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A ponderar seriamente MA's porrrraaaa 100 balas MA's e destiny MA's sao 100 balas #interiorMonologue
Silence
It was always packed at Paddington at four so much so that Cathy considered as she always did getting off of the tube and continuing her time-wasting by foot for today especially that would slow down time nicely but the train was already moving off and Cathy had found her seat her favourite seat only person in London her mother always said to love the tubes she settled her book on her lap and faced the blank pages they were always blank these days her eye was caught by the flicker of a mouse tail nearby it was the shoe lace of the boy next to her scattered in artistic disarray across the floor his sleeves were slumped at his side and his baggy jersey straightened and creased as the body beneath sighed to the beating hooves beneath the train eyes were closed beneath the brim of his hood but Cathy knew he was not asleep probably just pretending she peered closer at the laces under the rims of her glasses they were an ombre of mud and dyed nylon the result of a thousand careless wanderings maybe late at night in places you wouldn’t expect mud to reach like a corner of Camden or a dark alley in the East end under spider-webbed streetlamps that block out the stars she turned back to her page but her eye was caught again by something falling nearby she scratched that something fluttering nearby it was made of paper but it wasn’t a shopping list and it wasn’t a letter that much she could be certain of it was something official a ticket of some kind maybe it was for the cinema from the date-night of a failed romance or a train ticket one to visit someone who lies ill a grandmother with her eyes barely open waiting hopefully desperately expectantly for her grandson to arrive to say his goodbye but will he come will he ever make it if this ticket lies abandoned trodden into the chewing gum and dust to leave her waiting always waiting?
Gently, Cathy reached down and picked up the ticket to give back to the boy.
Lasciatemi vivere
00:01.. ora ho voglia di raccontarmi.. Non so a chi,a me forse.. anche perché questo blog è nato anche per questo: per me. Per avere uno spazio solo mio, senza pressioni,senza apparenze.. mio e basta. Vorrei fare un bilancio della mia esistenza ma ora è la cosa più difficile che qualcuno possa chiedermi.. Che strana la vita! Non me ne sono neanche accorta eppure sono qui, sotto il mio amato piumone a cercare un po’di me.. 00:05.. Non ci capisco niente! A volte pare che riesca a intravedere una luce,un sospiro di aria nuova,di vita.. ma in un niente ricado, così,ancora.. È un periodo (un anno) che quasi quasi non mi riconosco più.. Quante cose sono cambiate dall’estate scorsa! Faccio riferimento all’estate perché forse è stata l’ultima volta in cui mi sono sentita “normale”.. Ho perso te, che pensavo fossi l’amore della mia vita; ho perso te , compagna di una vita, che continui a rimanermi accanto ma che credo tu sappia che non sono più quella di un tempo.. Ho perso occasioni,possibilità.. soprattutto di essere felice e scordarmi della tristezza, almeno un po’ .. e invece no,è più forte di me.. E in parte ho perso me, o forse sono sempre io e devo solo ambientarmi.. forse mi serve tempo.. Come sempre d’altronde! Io e il mio Tempo. Mio e basta. Quello che nessuno può calcolare. Quanto tempo mi stanno portando via! E io glielo permetto.. mi manca leggere.. vorrei leggere Ken Follett,anzi no. Jane Austen! La mia amata Jane.. e poi c’è ” L’eleganza del riccio”.. sembra che è sulla mensolina da un secolo,che aspetta solo me.. Che bello il verbo “aspettare”… Sa di speranza, di amore.. di quell’amore bello, di cui sento la mancanza.. Sono stanca di vedere la mia vita solo come mancanza, di perdite.. basta! Ho così tanto e questo tanto è semplicemente ciò di cui adesso ho bisogno! Ho voglia di mare.. Vabbé, buona notte :) 00:21 ♥