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Visualizzazione dei post da Settembre, 2013

My himn

Immagine
Well my world used to be sunny
And jokes used to be funny
But now you're gone and everything's turned around

Well my world used to be warm
And there never was a storm
But now you're gone and everything's turned upside down

And now it's cold outside (it's cold outside), and the rain is pouring down
And the leaves are turning brown
Can't you see
That now it's cold outside (it's cold outside), and it's all because of you
'Cause there's nothing I can do to make you love me

Well my world used to be sunny
And jokes used to be funny
But now you're gone and everything's turned all round

Well my world used to be warm
And there never was a storm
But now you're gone and everything's turned upside down

And now it's cold outside (it's cold outside), and the rain is pouring down
And the leaves are turning brown
Can't you see
That now it's cold outside (it's cold outside), and it's all because of you
'Cause …

A poem I didn't know, as for the author (ahem): here's the glorious Alekos Panagulis

Voi, tombe che camminano insulti viventi della vita assassini del vostro pensiero fantocci in forme umane Voi che avete invidia delle bestie che offendete l’idea del creato che chiedete rifugio all’ignoranza che accettate per guida la paura Voi che avete dimenticato il passato che vedete il presente con occhi appannati che non avete interesse per il futuro che respirate solo per morire Voi che avete mani solo per applaudire e che domani applaudirete  con più forza di tutti come sempre e come ieri e come oggi Sappiate allora voi scuse viventi di ogni tirannia che i tiranni li odio tanto tanto quanto ho schifo di voi. Alekos Panagulis, 1971
I have resumed the poem from the blog Stand Up and Fight, from which it is also essential to read the post in honor of the unmatchable Oriana Fallaci, to whom the powerful defender of democracy was a lover.

My life as me

I'm not a retarded. I just decided to pretend to be one circa 1997-1998.
It all started at age 14, I was a "very" anxious boy, but not depressed or thing: parents send me to complete primary studies at a Jesuit lyceum. I spoke just a few words in those five years, then I was forced to study medicine, it took me 16 years to get the degree. Now I have two specializations. I can't work, girlfriend called it quit while I was at the University. So many beautiful failures. Basketball, punk rock, I can't understand why everybody loves me: they say money is not important, but I live a nightmare: no money at all, at home with two parents with different kinds of dementia who hate me like I was a traitor, a bad traitor. And the schizophrenic brother who returned home three years ago - no space for him, so he occupied my little studio where I practiced Psychiatry.  I have no friends: I said "Goodbye to you" to each and anyone. Today I know how GREAT real priests (a…