Tangled lives

night sky

It’s raining again, even if I saw the moon not more than half an hour ago.
It stated again, out of the blue. Out of the navy blue of the sky.
This autumn doesn’t want to leave us and maybe it’s the same autumn that doesn’t want to leave our souls, our shoulders, our eyes.
I see that you are sad, the same sadness that I felt one month ago. Maybe it’s not the same, but I want to think that we are somehow similar, that we feel the same feelings, that we get sad for the same reasons.
Maybe, as I was, I just want you to be sad because of the irony of life, because two people meet out of the blue, after they took decisions that involved other people, and their souls somehow recognise each other, but their minds can’t accept that all the thoughts, all the time, all the feelings spent until then have to be erased. And you can’t erase life, you can’t erase a story, you can’t erase memories.
They tell you that one day you’ll find the better half and that everything will finally fall in place in the easiest way. But what if the wires that connect our lives get tangled and we end up meeting that better half after a journey that brought other human lives? What if you need to chose between loving somebody that you didn’t know was coming and hurting somebody else that you loved for such a long time? What if different journeys collide and instead of creating a beautiful sky of shooting stars you damage something in which you believed with all of your being?
I can’t go to bed, I wont sleep, I would, instead, think of you, I would dream, with my eyes closed but my mind awake, to hug you, to squeeze you in the tightest hug.  We’d be there, in each other arms, the time would stop and all our questions would be answered.

Close your eyes and make a wish


A couple of weeks ago, passing by a small patch of grass and daises, I saw some dandelions and I thought to make a wish, a wish that if will ever become reality would make me very happy, but somebody else very sad. That day I decided to feel sad, keep my wish for my self, don’t try in every way to make it become true, suffer inside until that hope to have something special would disappear.

I spent two confusing and sad weeks where I didn’t know what I wanted, I didn’t know how to act for the sake of somebody that I don’t even know.

Today, coming back from work, I passed by that small patch of grass, all the dandelions in that patch turned around to stare at me, and while I was listening to a song of love and desire, hope and dream, I decided to stop for a moment, pick up one of those dandelions and after thinking deeply about the best way to express my desire I blown on it.

For once in my life I decided to be selfish and think about my happiness before somebody else’s, for once in my life I decided to give up on my past sadness, on my fear for the “what if”, for once in my life I decided that the “What If” might be something incredible good and that I want to chase that dream and that hope and it doesn’t matter if in the end I’ll turn up with another plaster on my heart, the important thing is that even for a single moment of my life I thought that this thing can be possible, and right now I absolutely do.

Little review of A moveable feast by Hernest Hemingway

quote a moveable feastI can’t lie, every time I end up watching Midnight in Paris by Woody Allen I want to jump back in time, and join the crew of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway and Gertrude Stein. This is why, last summer I gave my self a little present: The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas by Gertrude Stein and A moveable feast by Ernest Hemingway, two autobiography of two of the greatest author of the early 20th century.

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1 – A Whole Life by Robert Seethaler

  • Scars are like years, he said: one follows another and it’s all of them together that make a person who they are. 
  • Of course, he thought, his proposal could not just be any old proposal. It had to be one that somehow optimized the magnitude of his love and would engrave itself for ever on Marie’s memory and heart. […] Ideally he would have liked to inscribe his love on the mountain, in huge letters, visible for miles around to everyone in the valley.
  • You can buy a man’s hours off him, you can steal his days from him, or you can rob hum of his whole life but no one can take away from any man so much as a single moment. That’s the way it is.
  • The sun was low, and even the distant mountaintops stood out so clearly that it was as if someone had just finished painting them onto the sky.
  • Just as Anna Holler had quite naturally appeared outside his door with the cake in her hands, she quite naturally walked into his life, where within a very short time she was claiming the space that she clearly assumed was hers.


A little review of Unbridled by Jude Dibia

2015-07-22 19.33.49When I had to call South Africa to get in contact with the publisher of the book and find a way to have them on stock in the bookshop I couldn’t expect that I was going to misunderstand half of the things that my interlocutor was saying. Luckily he was as well very patient.

Unbridled by Jude Dibia is the book in program for the African Reading Group (ARG!) in September, but since we have the 20 copies that we ordered from Far Far Away, I thought I could start to read it in July… and so I did.

The book tell the story of Ngozi, a girl that after a difficult childhood decide to move from Nigeria to London, after she meet a boy on line.
She move to England and change her name in Erika. But her life isn’t quite like she was expecting.
James live in a flat with other two guys, is rude and not at all the nice guy coming from a decent family.

Erika start to straggle with this new life and the novel goes back and forth between her present and her past.
We find out what made her run away from home when she was still a teenager. Who helped her when she arrived in Lagos, and why she could “accept” her situation in London.

It’s not just a novel that talks about a change of scenario and then of life, it’s something more complex. It’s a story of humanity and respect, that can’t be related just at the reality of Africa. It’s a story of a girl that find herself, unawared, in awful situations.

I wouldn’t expect this kind of story with this kind of voice to be written by a man, but I had to change my mind. Dude Dibia touches the feeling of his woman character with deepness and a respect incredible.
He doesn’t use complex language and even when he let his character speak in African languages, he always find the way to translate what they are saying.
He talk about humanity with a light touch.