Answering Machine Opening Times

KALEIDOSCOPE 09 - Silence




A flourish of his hand to put aside thoughts after you hung up the phone. The pendulum
whispers that have the time available.
strange coincidence it had to feel right now. When I decided I could not remember the day that I should go see him .... or maybe I chose this day to have an excuse to not visit ... would be fun, almost paradoxical ...
... That's enough jokes, you have to think about serious things, his voice, the voice of D *** A ***, the voice of my father, should not be the last ...
I have to fix it. In
room should still be cassettes - melancholy smile - those on which to record the words to give my body to compose poems.
A quick touch to the front door in the passage. Open. Perfect. Recorder on the desk and leaned heavily in his hands one of the many boxes in his room, a look at the date ... 7 years ago, should work. Ultimately that is the other one.
- Michele moves the chair by the desk and sits down with his back entrance -
- With the hand feels the jacket -... the bag is in place.
reviewed in mind the list of things she had to do ... nodded thinking that the letter had already sent a couple of hours earlier.
Well, now that things were in place practices could begin.
She brought the papers to him, he wanted Gabriele saw ... turned on the recorder - Tump - these ... awakened from its lethargy snorted, cried, scatarrò out a voice.
He heard her voice, a voice heavy weight of the powder of seven years, beginning with the date and then he left blank a moment, then he announced the title ... In fact here is: "Silence" the voice of his mind this echoed that of his past, I ... no, do not remember this.
waited a few moments waiting to begin, then the moments when it became too much frowned and after he rewound the tape again invariably repeated the same sequence of sounds, as had been planned.
... But of course, silence, hour recall, at that time far more fascinated by the silence of words, another strange coincidence, perhaps too many, the thought of his letter and then sat on the chair more comfortable and continued to listen to silence while the shadow of Gabriel, who had continued to fix it since he sat down he began to speak:


Shadow: Funny how the words bounce between ourselves, those same words that came out that we seem not to want to return us to those sounds which we are deaf, but that claim to be heard by the other ... being accepted by others.
possible that the only real communication with oneself is constituted by what appears to be the negation of the communication?
possible that what is commonly represented as an inconsistency, insuperable barrier between speaker and listener is actually the only thread that connects the souls ... the souls of our own and I with the other, or rather with the images of the souls of others who are in our own me?
possible that where the truth finally spoken fail triumphs but the Truth, that Truth does not need to be expressed, and that even if explicitly betrays itself and becomes something other than, and therefore non-truth? Truth that requires only the silence to be educated? (That is rediscovered in our own mind, the image the soul that we have in our souls and no idea of \u200b\u200bour mind or we think that we want other souls, the souls of others have.)
The Silence ... if all else is futile, why not just listen ... ... .... .... ...
Idea: Perhaps because everything else is useless: it is what is reality and then our being.
Shadow: I do not think the rest is perhaps not only our way of being as such?
Idea: can possibly be given without BEING the way it is?
Shadow: Not in reality, not in this reality that is constituted by the rest from non-silence, from the bay.
Idea: You tipping the concepts, for you become vain and abstraction of the concrete foundation of the very silence, the silence only allowing you admit humans only what is common to all men and because universal human needs no words to express it.
Shadow: So why is and should be only that which is universal for all can be the foundation of what is predicable of all men there.
That is the essence of man, the only part of which should be taken into account.
Idea: Assume also that it is as you say, you're ready to lose yourself? Because what makes you such is not the existence which is common to all, what characterizes you and you have made is what you call in vain.
Shadow: I'm ready to lose myself if it means to take the existence and essence, if not my own, of all things.
Idea: So you're ready to deny the thoughts that brought you to this concept and, ultimately, you are ready to give up on this same concept of your existence?
Shadow: .... .... .... .... .... ....
Idea: This concept that you have is itself part of what defines space, it is not universal, so much so that you needed to put into words, and you can say that in expressing them in contradicting the fact ... it is because you are made this way and in anyone else that you could take this idea, and now, because this idea says that only the most essential and important because it makes itself manifest as peculiar and then inessential, for all those reasons you're ready to cancel too along with all the "vain"?
Shadow: ..... ...... ....... ....... ....
Idea: But if you do not want / can, bring it to its logical conclusion, consistent with itself, erasing it, that you can not put it down gently as something fragile and precious to your shoulders with the other things that have lived and passed and make some progress in the knowledge that this progress, this thy become something other than what they were before though still yourself, is also due to what you've been.
The result is due to a foundation, and, as the first not the second, they may not even be totally different.
Shadow: You're telling me to leave the forgotten silence?
Idea: I'm saying that silence is as important as what is not silence.
Shadow: So it's decided: Silence does not utter words in silence, but I'll do it in my words that there are echoes of the unspoken Silence and silences that speak the words my soul.
Nasty Words of unspoken words and silences filled with meaningful hints.


Gabriel smiled, smiled and walked a few steps.

Where Is Cody Of Corbin Fisher

Tummy Ache election

The die is cast, the elections are over and we find ourselves with the Italian government that we deserve. Nothing to say, are basically the rules of democracy, and Italy is clearly shifted to the right. Just a moment to reflect on the paradoxes of history to understand that Count Camillo Benso di Cavour, the father of history right on certain issues (one in all, a secular state), was much more to the left of the Democratic Party veltroni. We must therefore arm ourselves with pragmatism and face the reality that elections are not won in Italy with his head, but with the belly, with the portfolio and with the image. We can say that we already knew, after all, because "hardened paunch", to quote Dante, voter average face is easily influence by flattery and the fabled promise of greater wealth, as well as the bogeymen of "different" playing on the irrational and evoked self-preservation instinct that is triggered when you are faced with hazards are real or imaginary. It is not nothing new if it's true what they say Guicciardini centuries ago, the Italians are forgotten before the death of his father that the loss of the portfolio.

But that left some of my snobbery does not help to resolve the situation, it is useless to shut themselves up in their ivory tower dispensing with contemptuous arrogance looks at the world around us as if we did not live in that same world. Similarly explaining, as Diliberto, the failure of the left, and I refer specifically to the dramatic collapse of the left rainbow, by reducing everything to the lack of the hammer and sickle symbol, it means only show not to be able to do a basic policy analysis. Then now that the project of the PDCI, according to Diliberto, should be to reconnect and return to that political ritch (exact words) was interrupted in 1984 with the death of Berlinguer, I think it's crazy and it becomes clear indication of myopia that does not allow the political elite of Italian society to understand anything now. The causes of the defeat, in my opinion, are well other. First and foremost, of course, the support given to the outgoing government without this commitment be matched by the implementation of any of the reforms that the left had to be spokesman. Second, even if they are structurally more important, the impression that the new unitary subject was disorganized and unprepared. Certainly his birth was a necessary response to the road taken by Veltroni, but has always remained the feeling that you were chasing a goal not just heard. Thus, even the program, I feel that reflected the role of "civic consciousness" of centrist parties that the left has found itself in the last decade (for reference only to what I experienced first hand). Full of ideas interesting and (from my point of view) fully agree with the ethical values \u200b\u200band of those, the program left the rainbow But it lacked the requisite organic and economic pragmatism. That is to say that it was just the ideal plan, but did not propose a very solid and achievable plan that would ensure governability. This is not criticism of a vote or a voter who knows what liberal political force ... I voted left rainbow and I do not regret doing it but how do those who are always ready to abandon the boat of losers at the first signs of storm. This does not mean she can not criticize their choices, with constructive ends, of course. After all even too often they are leftists are ready to cite Marx as if it were gospel (plus local and national level, it is true), but I'm an atheist in every sense and does not replace an icon with another deifying the thought of a man, however acute, did an analysis based on the situation of his time (I only remember that the capital was published in 1867 !!!!!). So it makes no sense to me to be accused of being a reformist, not to be a Communist or who knows what else, it seems that everything depends on the terms, if mean communist who slavishly follows the "doctrine" and that Marx's economic thought that in the Capital there is a magic recipe for the economic situation of any historical period, well then they are not actually communist because I believe that Marx's thought can give some interesting yes, but no concrete answers to the needs of the present.

What then is the solution? Well, here falls ass and I with it. I admit that I still have the ideas clear enough to answer this, I just here trying to make sense of what has happened, the critical reflection is just the first step, but it is an essential starting point to rebuild something that really makes sense. Of course, the immediate thing to do I think it groped more local roots, act locally so decided and be receptive to the needs of a world that, as a bit 'musty and repetitive (as evidenced by the Berlusconi III), it is just frozen up positions imperishable, because, as Galileo said ..... "And yet it moves." (Hopefully for the better)

Chemotherapy On Lupus

KALEIDOSCOPE 08 - The morality of a Blasphemer

been two days of fact ...." "I can not sleep, just close my eyes I am overwhelmed by the muffled sound of the shot, the newspapers still no trace of'.... to anything .... My Eva decided that it is better to get away for a while 'we packed up in haste and now we are on the bus to the train ..... I do not remember what our goal, she told me, but not listened to .... I heard only the distant sound of gunfire. Before leaving my cat with a worried look I took her face in her hands and told me to stay calm, still nothing happened ..... That may be true, but my nothing is filled by that phrase .... the last written by the man.
"Gabriel smiled again, but the smile is cracked."
again Gabriel. The circle closes, and my thoughts go back to their origin.
The couple in front of me is off the bus, I see a nun. Normally I would look away, but not now. I can not help but observe his features relaxed, freed from guilt, almost free from the oppression of their actions ... the I envy that. I wonder if there really is no God to answer for their actions.
Absurd.
Unthinkable. I feel
canceled, I have the temptation to bring your knees to your chest and hiding his face ... already: a fetal position, but I can not get back to basics.
My innocence is lost, and if it finds her, her innocence would be irretrievably lost.
... Or maybe not?
Yet it is inconceivable that it can be ... if when I killed that person I was absolutely indifferent, now ... now that if I could give my life to make his potergli ... now I hate to have him killed for asking me to do it, because now I am crushed by myself ... candor that can be in this hatred?
attention back to the nun, the features are always soft, almost seraphic smile, but ... there is something different than before I had not noticed.
There is a kind of imperfection, of cracks in its most brazen aura of holiness ... I could not describe it ...
And if I were to project on her quell'imperfezione that is only mine? Perhaps out of envy, or because they feel that otherwise I could not even support his view?
No, I read the same shade in the gentleman who fumbles awkwardly with the newspaper careful not to lose balance in my "Eve" and also that other Gabriel, what fell from the bus, I recognize as characteristic of their being.
possible that this is the shadow of human weakness that is projected on the corners of our faces, our gestures ... of our words?
And the nun, the holy myrrh "(as I have always considered profanely), her daughter and spouse of God, sin, yet claimed by his" holiness "is still palpable.
I am reminded of the words of my mother ... can not be, I keep banging my face against the fragile texture of memories ... broken chipped memories ... and sharp splinters are pierced. I look again
the soror plump and ruddy-faced .... only now I realize that it seems fake .... plastic .... its thin film was torn and his calmness is monstrous because I now I realize it's only a priori self-persuasion of being right ... the meaning of his actions is drowned in the din of the triumphal march of a presumed single unshakeable truth. The disregard for their actions makes serene think only with a meter that is not his to relax, everything is reduced to a simple pattern that can not hear themselves and behind the mask from his face sleeping sister is dumb.
No, not hiding myself that I will have an answer .... rather than bear the responsibilities will make me more honest with my self. What nonsense
ruining his life with his own hands! I just have to stay quiet so the police will never find me. This sentence pronounced in the mind of a murderess should be accompanied by a feeling of relief, but ...
... it seems to me only to wear the same cloak of hypocrisy that I have never accepted.
So in reality it is clear what I should do ... I do not want to choke me forget what I did, I have to deal with it.
... So maybe I should be ....
Suddenly the roar of the city is silent, the world around me disappears roars like a bubble bursting.
There is only the secular moralistic voice of my conscience. All around
: ........ ....... ...... ...... Silence.

Chikan In Bus And Train

KALEIDOSCOPE 07 - Hic et Nunc





The door is open as agreed.
I sincerely hope that it is not ... would no longer be depended on my will, I would not have had to choose, and the conditions were not those the defendants, maybe the man had changed his mind, I'd be back in the car pretending to be irritated ... she really was, but not with me, in a couple of days then would pass .- sigh-... but the door is unquestionably open and his evidence seems to accuse me of not having courage in the end she had convinced me not? ... Maybe I just think its possible reaction to my refusal, the money does not really interest me that much. Some
step is lost in a dusty silence. The door makes a feeble squeak. Stopped abruptly. The man sits and gives me back, just as he said the other, unaware of my presence, unaware of my intentions - cold sweat - and if he had heard ... the squeak I mean .... sure the other man has assured me that there would be no problems, but how can he be sure? ... And if you then suddenly turned, perhaps a trifle, perhaps to take a cassette tape player as there is on the table, or something to go to the bathroom or get a glass of water ... So, then I would scream and if and if it ran to call - First Police, help! There is an armed stranger in my house! -...?
I feel the heart beating in my throat, my heart already, that this man would stop soon ... drums into the abyss ... drumming dumb because without someone who sounds.
Just now I decided, well, she has decided for me, but, in any way to question that decision now would take a more difficult in the near future ... Leopardi ... can not decide who never returns to its decisions do not have to take yet ... maybe he was right, however now I started well and bring everything to fruition.



Michele listened to the silence and listening to the silence you feel many things: the soft creak of a door, stealthily crossing of the entrance, almost felt his breath ... the breath of the boy. He was almost ready; fixed 'Gabriel, who was smiling from his papers.
He heard a phrase "Michael ... Gabriel, who is killing you! "
Then, only then Michele smiled heartily. He heard a muffled sound ... the gun with silencer ... understatement.
Thoughts approaching death are more rapid, whirling, buzzing, crumble into a heavy rain of ideas, feelings not yet linked.
And if torn from the agony of an instant flow of time, ... last very long if that moment - stealth - I crumpled in my pocket ... and if in those thousand, one hundred and more moments that could have been but were not (or will be, if you prefer) reigned / perish the here and now incontrovertibly?
Yes, because in these fractions of a second that I'm living before I die ... monad in this time torn by time (from the rest of the time) is substantializes the here and now, only then to be able to expand indefinitely, a here and now that expands filling the infinite duration of this time is no longer a tiny portion of time, become detached from it all the time, eternity is crystallized in a stillness that can not be said that will endure as it may mean the becoming of its time, but And that 'in my time, not absolute perceived by others.
Maybe now that split, the "eternal revolutions" in shards raining down from heaven, so this is a time that is eternal here and now between life and death that is actualized the only possible immortality of the soul.
It's fun to think about his own death as he becomes conscious of the eternity of the moment you are living ... but these are only thoughts again ... So I fell like a dead body falls.



- The man is slumped on the desk in front of which sat -.
is dead ... is dead, there is no pulse: it is dead. No more of this word expresses the presence of the void. I just feel the cold, I see my body do things almost automatically, I look at everything without seeing. I raise my body down (his time) and pulled the envelope from his jacket, the one in which there are the rest of the money .. that guy was telling me that I would find there, and even though I felt was something not very sensible, the bag is real. I do look at the courage and face.
smile, smile ... I do not understand ... is, is the man who had commissioned me ... I will stop without the strength to even pronounce the name in the mind of that action which I have also had the courage (or rather, cowardice) to accomplish. Funny how sometimes the words of the things they fear most.
And that sentence? Why he asked me to pronounce that phrase before shooting?
No, I did not do it! Go, go, gotta go away! In turning round the eye falls on the sheets on the desk, the papers on which man has collapsed, the victim and instigator.
sheets are full, but there is a single sentence written obsessively repeated: "Gabriele smiles. "
Only the paper that the dead man still held in his hand looks different, this time the phrase is not repeated and there is once wrote: "Gabriel smiled again, but the smile is cracked."