http://search.deviantart.com/?q=by:polvereinnamorata&section=today deviantART RSS for by:polvereinnamorata en-us Copyright 2009, deviantART.com Wed, 23 Dec 2009 08:24:08 PST deviantART.com http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://s.deviantart.com/minish/widgets/apple-touch-icon-precomposed.png http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/12876209/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/12876209/ Mon, 07 May 2007 13:24:01 PDT

_{I'm back}

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/12445850/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/12445850/ Tue, 03 Apr 2007 15:07:49 PDT
_{...così piccola e carina come sono...}

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/12291858/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/12291858/ Fri, 23 Mar 2007 02:31:00 PDT
Should I stop looking for you when I find people? When I'm just living everyday, everywhere?

This is for you. This is just for you.

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/12093031/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/12093031/ Wed, 07 Mar 2007 12:58:56 PST
I know I can't call him, I don't even know if he can understand I'm talking at him. What is he doing now?

Do things end always without possibilities? I don't want it this way. This isn't fair. Did you really decide, or did you just escape?

You're important to me, ok?

I'd just want to go for a walk with you, and chat, and run, and decide titles for your photos, and feel as I felt with you.

Couldn't you be my friend again?

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11959366/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11959366/ Sun, 25 Feb 2007 10:16:31 PST To all appearances now I've got an alley cat... but he's not a cat.
This cat, who's not a cat, is making me feel like I want to be a better person.

I just want to be there.

I just want to take care of my alley cat. That is not a cat. Maybe a bear. Or just a little stray. He managed in making me to go over 20, I don't know how. Maybe he don't know how.
For this time, you're allowed to hide me.

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11902333/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11902333/ Tue, 20 Feb 2007 23:18:59 PST
Should I be happy?

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11793726/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11793726/ Tue, 13 Feb 2007 02:44:41 PST set n.1: N. is eating for the 1st time at the house of her (ex) boyfriend. Lunch with his parents. Brrr. Fear.
The Father (trying to be nice): Hi N., d'you see this tie? It's my favourite one, I'd use it always... but it has a small, small spot... what a pity! I hope I'll clean it...
Then, the lunch.
N. is trying to drink some water... a normal thing that normal people can do, usually. But she's N.
She catches the bottle of water, she loses the bottle of water. It bumpes into the other bottle of water (glass, obviously) that crashes on the plate where the most beautiful cake of the world was sleeping... full of cream... Not enough: the 1st bottle - remember it?
Well, it decides to collapse on The Father, washing it completely with water... I say completely.
I think He should be happy. I cleaned his tie, didn't I?

set n.2: N. is invited at a marriage.
She meets a Nice Girl, she has some incredibly turquoise hair. You can't help looking at it... then N. discovers she's a nurse at the E.R.
N.: No, no, that's wonderful!!! Someone goes to the E.R., and we know usually that's not a happy thing, ok? But then he sees you...
N.'s brain: "...and he begins to smile..."
N.'s voice: ...and he begins to LAUGH!!!
Nice Girl: Ah. He begins to laugh.
N. (looking at her brother): Ehmm... maybe I didn't explain it very well..?
N.'s brother: Start digging.

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11584606/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11584606/ Sat, 27 Jan 2007 06:56:49 PST I want to apologize, or maybe say thank you.

"Anche se non t'arrivano... anche se non li leggi i miei sms, anche se... se... se... ho voglia di parlarti lo stesso, e per dirti che sono contento. Di un contento fortunato che ti credi d'aver vinto qualcosa, che la vita è una sorta di lotteria... ad averti incontrata quella sera, come fosse nulla, iniziata a conoscere di lì a poco come fosse la cosa più normale del mondo... contento, anche se non sono lì con te fisicamente adesso. Contento, anche se... se quando sarò lì chissà magari non sarò 'bello' come le parole che ti mando e magari mi dirai 'pussa via!'... quaggiù, sono contento di sapere che Novella Pollyanna piccolo sole che ride da qualche parte gioca e esiste, è acceso ed è molto caldo! straparlo? stupido! manco t'arriveranno..."

(Even if they don't reach you.. even if you can't read my messages, even if...if...if..I feel like talking you anyway, to tell you I'm happy. A lucky happiness, when you think you won something - 'cause life is a sort of lottery... because I met you that night, as a downplay, I started to know you soon as if twas the more standard thing in the world... happy, even if I'm not phisically with you now. Happy, even if... when I'll be there perhaps I won't be as 'beautiful' as the words I send you and maybe you'll tell me 'go away!'... down here I'm happy to know that Novella Pollyanna little sun who's laughing somewhere plays and exists, it's lightened and very hot! Am I overtalking? Stupid! You won't even read it...)

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11551674/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11551674/ Wed, 24 Jan 2007 10:19:24 PST This cruel, cruel world. I'm blocked. I hate accidents. I hate doctors. Lot of painnn!!!! >__<

So... let's talk about something funny. In the past days some children of mine (no, I do not have a lot of sons) asked me some nice questions... I don't know, maybe I've got something written on my forehead??? A friend of mine says that's because I usually listen to them, I really listen to them, so they're confident in my answers.

This 1st baby looked at me with his big, fair eyes and with his total and disarming confidence asked me:
"So, if storks don't bring babies... how do they come?"

Giggle. His teacher looked at me with a satisfied smile from an ear to the other. I don't want to be a mother

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11449266/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11449266/ Mon, 15 Jan 2007 15:12:45 PST
Maybe there are still some pieces in my hand. But I'm here, now. I'll find another bottle.
Happy to be back.

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11060150/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/11060150/ Thu, 14 Dec 2006 09:16:24 PST But...

...in case you find the bottle.




Miss you.

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10739987/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10739987/ Wed, 15 Nov 2006 23:32:05 PST _> ) I had a play with my best friend: the PEDESTALS.

They were some guys we didn't even know, or just say hello to (and few words)... but we're sort of "in love with". Each one had a name that was given by us because of his features... there was the "Silent" guy, the "Red" guy, the "Head" guy... then there was our favourite. I think he still don't know the game, but a lot of things happened in our "magic world" with him: that's not just about dreaming, but coincidence he probably didn't notice because didn't care

Well, you know my best friend isn't here anymore... but one of her boyfriend's best friend is just this guy, "Mine" (because of his surname). It has been several times so far he (the boyfriend) sees me home after we're gone out together, and then goes to his (Mine's) house. We never meet. Me and Mine, not more than few seconds.

Ok, this is silly. But it's sweet. I'd just want to tell her that there is a link, after all these years.
There is still our game. Pedestals.

***


]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10706918/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10706918/ Sun, 12 Nov 2006 23:30:34 PST I was there ad 18,00. Made some shopping before the night begun.
Really, I had fun, I love them and it was nice!
But I've understood one thing: I'm changing. I'm changed.
I loved being with them, going to bed at 5 o'clok in the morning... but then I woke up at 8 o'clock ç__ç and, well... I like this way sometimes, but I'm not gonna have this life each day of my life anymore.

I don't want to be lazy. I don't want to be bored.
I've got a lot of things to do before I die.

There are lots of places to see, people to meet, stories to write... I cannot be a ghost in the day because I passed the entire night doing... what?

Well, I think this was about comforting me for all the waking up early in the morning, ehe
More, I think it was about understanding who I am now. It's difficult. And it's difficult for me, because I've always known who I was, and who I didn't want to be.

I'm discovering myself again Will it be the same? Won't it?
Ok, nevermind, I only want to do my best.



***


]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10642935/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10642935/ Mon, 06 Nov 2006 23:34:30 PST
Come on Novella, you must go, the day's already begun!
A lot of things today. And tomorrow. And...
...Blah, blah, blah.




Groan. I want to sleeeeeeeep!!! >_____<




______________________________________


So. I'm doing an Advent Calendar for my baby Chiara, I'm teaching her english and she's soooo pretty! Awww! *_____*
I'm having a lot of fun, even if it's hard! I'll use it to make her learn other words, stuff, but also to make her eat some chocolate

Oh, chocolate! Yesterday I was talking with a friend of mine and he was showing me (with the cam) tha great, great presence of chocolate &Co in his room, and I was crying to have one...

....and, suddendly, there it was. Chocolate. On my table.
I was alone in the room, and when I arrived there wasn't any chocolate.
But then... there, right in front of me!!!
So... why? ç_________ç

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10577668/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10577668/ Wed, 01 Nov 2006 02:23:02 PST But I'm jealous.
In that cd, it's not a song, it's not music.

It's you.

It's your soul, so rich and so powerful that I cry everytime I'm listening to. I cannot do it if another one is in the same room, I don't want them to see my face...

I don't mind if you like or dislike that song, it's not the song, it's the voice. Few people knowed about your voice. You, silly girl, were ashamed of singing. But I perfectly remember it.

Listening to you make me remember forever what I've lost, and what's still marking my footprints. Thank-you.

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10543452/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10543452/ Sun, 29 Oct 2006 01:38:03 PDT
I'll be out the whole day, until tonight.

The great thing is: I don't know at all where I'm going.




***

Clubs:



]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10497728/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10497728/ Tue, 24 Oct 2006 13:43:58 PDT
So, the theatre: I went in and he said hello very joyfully, with arms wide open:
"DARLING!!! I don't see you from AGES!!!"
and then, a second later:
"are you PREGNANT?"


...


(Few minutes later he told me: "Ok, get naked now, I've got to check you... you must wear only slip and pants."
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
I looked at him.
"BRA!!! I mean bra!!!")



]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10402275/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10402275/ Sun, 15 Oct 2006 14:33:13 PDT We were free and they saw us alone.
They couldn't understand our bravery was our best virtue. Our madness was our way not to slumber.
Our laugh was our freedom.


Have you ever red "Itaca"?
Our dream were unreachable. We needed them to keep on walking.



***

Clubs:



Friends:



Beloved:

http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10369019/ Thu, 12 Oct 2006 12:39:22 PDT Sometimes I have some meaningful dreams, I realize they tell me something, or maybe it's me that tell myself something.
I had one of those dreams a week after her death... perhaps a month: what's time anyway?

So... this is about her death, again.
I think she was with me last night.
Every day, every hour, every second I can't help but thinking she's here... I'm doing something and I think: "I must tell her this" or "I want to do that with her"; then I think "Damn! She isn't here!"... everything in a fraction. But the strange thing is that after the second moment my brain says: "Ok, I'll do that when she'll be back."

When she'll be back. This is my head. I'm waiting for her to come home.

This is my soundtrack nowadays. It's simple, nothing dramatic, not a choose. I'm waiting. My head is waiting.
Before I can realize it the "When she'll be back" is already there.

Tonight I had a dream.
I called her, and in the dream I often called her, I could several times talk with her by phone like in reality I think of her as of someone that's homecoming.
Then - some pain, some great pain and anguish, and I was crying and asking, screaming "Who the hell are you? How's that possible?"
I mean, even in the dream she was dead.

I wouldn't be a good doctor: I haven't still confessed it to my heart.



Clubs:



Friends:



Beloved:

http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10320946/ Sun, 08 Oct 2006 02:53:43 PDT I want my air and I want to invent it, now I need some bravery to decide my bag, to leave what's ballast and to bring with me hope and my wishlist.
To give my face to the wind.

Maybe something bad is waiting for me, and surely some hurt is waiting for me. Perhaps, there will be some rainbows then to help me on my way.

I bring with me spots of your words, of your acts; of your eyes and voice. Maybe one day I'll have to throw them all in the sea to save me. Maybe.

But now, here, I still hope not.


________________________________________ _______________

Clubs:



Friends:



Beloved:

http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10290831/ Thu, 05 Oct 2006 07:59:47 PDT Ok, maybe as usual
But: I'm idealistic (I know, I know, that's my constant!), that's why. I hate power for power, I love autorithy when power deserves to be. But I think that's so rare...
So I had some accidents.


BAD AUTORITHY n.1: CHURCH

I have been arguing with my parish priest (Im not a lover of Church indeed) 'cause I can accept that you consider yourself as the owner of truth for what deals with faith... but that doesn't allow you considering the owner of truth on PEOPLE, expecially people you've never met. More: the parable of prodigal son teach to love him, not to dismiss him, right? So why do you feel allowed to tell someone to dismiss someone you've never seen, you don't know at all, only because you THINK that he is in a way that he isn't instead - but maybe it was too hard to ASK?


BAD AUTORITHY n.2: POLITICS

Last Sunday I was walking around a marketplace when I saw my region's president near a stand. The boy who was helping him was so horribly ass-licking that I couldn't resist (helped the fact that I voted against that man ^__* He is in the same party as Berlusconi, if someone knows that dishonest dwarf). I went there and, with a sweet, angelic smile I looked at them and smile more, and played with my blonde, angelic hair and flapped my eyes and smiled. Then I said with a soft, childish voice: You should lick a little more, he's not wet enough.



^__________^ See ya.

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10256694/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10256694/ Mon, 02 Oct 2006 07:52:32 PDT One day Little Blue Riding Hood took her BASKET and filled it with APPLES to go and see her beloved grandma'... she did not envy her sister, but she was a younger sister anyway, so often tried to copy her.
She closed the DOOR and walked, walked, walked...
When she arrived near the forest she met the ELEPHANT and the TURTLE: they were both good animals, but hungry... oh, how hungry! Little Blue Riding Hood was very kind in the soul and gave'em some ICECREAM and JAM that were in the basket with the apples (she was more modern than her sister): the two animals wanted to thanks her, so they offered her a big, coloured KITE, assuring her that it would be useful.
Little Blue Riding Hood walked, walked, walked...
But she was the younger sister, not allowed to walk alone and not used to do it, and soon she lose her way: she started to search and call for help, but nobody answered. She was worried, and then it started to RAIN: she didn't know what to do, but then she remembered her gift: took the KITE and, having opened it, she squatted under it to get a shelter. At a poin the RAIN stopped, but it was already evening. And there, with the dark, the WOLF.
It was a big, black wolf and she understood he was as bad as her sister said. She didn't know what to do, but suddendly, the idea: she took the KITE again. There was some WIND and, when she opened it, the wind brought her higher and higher... until they reached the MOON. The wolf was at the bottom of the world, and Little Blue Riding Hood started to laugh, happy.
She tried to understand what she could do, but then she discovered that the MOON (the last quarter) was as comfortable as a cradle, and decided to sleep there until the morning, when he could go and visit grandma'.
Someone says that night, in the wind, a sweet, beautiful melody was travelling around the sky, and reached some open windows. Do you ever let your window open in the night? Do you know that stories travel better in the night?
That story dealed with the little girl that found the moon so comfortable that decided to sleep there, and the moon moved like a cradle all night. Singing wind. Tellin' her a story.



This is the story I wrote in about five minutes: I needed one for the baby girl I teach English too (she's nine, ten years old), and I had to explain her some words (the big ones) I don't know if I remember it well, it's just a play.

^__^

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10232198/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10232198/ Sat, 30 Sep 2006 01:44:11 PDT I have rescued you - and me.

Every day since that day, every night. In every single moment, I do have made that phone call.




For thee. And for three.

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10157793/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10157793/ Sat, 23 Sep 2006 01:01:04 PDT
It doesn't matter. I cannot rescue you.

How many guys die in that way every year? How many boys or girls have died since May, 17?
Many... too many, perhaps.
Millions of people die in the world. How many are they everyday? I don't know. How much can your death matter for the world?

Nothing.

But for some of us, for me, it matters more than the world itself.

]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10059811/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/10059811/ Wed, 13 Sep 2006 12:33:23 PDT Indeed I shouldn't have, because I was working. But.

I understood photography is not exactly a defence for me... actually I defend myself from photography.
I mean, I've told my biggest way of expression is writing, and I really don't love making people read what I write; I'm complex. Really complex. So what I write IS complex.
My photos are something different, are my simple way to communicate.
I don't say taking pics is simple, I just say for me is something different. I can open up.

But... it's not easy opening this way, not for me anyway. That's why I defend myself from taking photos.

I don't really know if I could explain my point...

It's like my ID: I said Welcome, but the image is confused... because that's not so easy succeed in coming into me... it's not easy at all!


Uhm.



You know? I love having ink on my hands. Sometimes clothes. ]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/9930065/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/9930065/ Fri, 01 Sep 2006 12:49:28 PDT
- Well, I definetly love b/w. Love because every time you look at it, it's like HE's tellin you a secret.
Colours are a patina over the essence...

- Well, I definetly won't be a photographer. I love photographing, I don't think I'm SO good at it, but that's not the point anyway. The point is: I've understood that in this period of my life (it's an important period, so many things have changed even if I didn't want them to, and I don't know if it will last forever) I dont take photos to get into people.
I only try to defend myself from them. The camera is my shelter, my filter. ]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/9859816/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/9859816/ Sat, 26 Aug 2006 08:57:31 PDT I must work with them, or not, but they' aren't photos anymore (for now).
But... that's sad: scraps now are such a ghetto you can't find if you don't REALLY want, or if you don't know the site quite well...
Poor, poor babies... your mom is bad! dA is bad!

<



2a p.

Oh GOSH! I've just finished writing "dA is bad"... and it stole me a photo! Where is my Three Stories, where? ç___ç
I can see it on The principal page (profile's one), but if I go to the gallery... there isn't!
Bad, bad dA! >___< I'm suffering! ]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/9445396/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/9445396/ Fri, 21 Jul 2006 07:04:17 PDT kujaku told me to do something with this space, but I still cannot... gosh!
Ssso.... little play:

I LOVE

cats, oceans, cartoons, sweets, walking, heroism, reading, writing, little sparkling things, photos, water, nature, silence, books, big foolish things, poetry, lullabies, icecreams, bread, sunrises/sunsets, hugs, everything with sugar, big big animals who get scared by small small animals, memories, libreries/bookshops, differences, films i make in my mind for everything happens, wind, highlanders, papers, words, reading between the lines, friends, old cassettes, little stars, boxes, Dr.House, little dresses with little flowers, silver, sleeping, trains, Felicity, Donald Duck, manga, politics as you study in history (Roman Empire...), puzzles, smell of just-cut-grass, guitars, violins, fairy tales, ink, walking barefoot, bubbles, fruits, felt-tip pens, Gilmore Girls, Paperinik, earpieces, wrinkles, sticking things on walls, octopuses, people who doesn't have everytime a reason for what they do.

I HATE

coffee, grammar mistakes, Studio Aperto, unloyalty, midi files, set up behaviour, talking for diminutives (not names), mr B., commercial music, young (damned) writers, discotheques, monument in Padua for 9.11, cold, rings under the eyes, nufascism, arrogance, show business, "veline", values market, spread for culture, envy, ostentation, "fighetteria", sun-lamps, Brail's jewelry, traffic, night without dark, Mickey Mouse, racism, upset racism, closed spaces, Big Brother, hypocrisy, sauces. People who says "I know how you feel about Marta". People who didn't talk to me before, and now come as some beautiful friends, put their hand on my shoulder and ask: "How are you?"

(AMO

i gatti, l'oceano, i cartoni animati, i dolci, camminare, l'eroismo, leggere, scrivere, cosine che sbrilluccicano, fotografie, acqua, natura, silenzio, libri, pazzie, poesia, ninnananne, gelati, pane, albe e tramonti, abbracci, tutto ciò che ha zucchero, grandi animali che si spaventano o perplimono per piccoli animali, ricordi, biblioteche e librerie, diversità, i miei film mentali, il vento, gli highlanders, la carta, vecchie cassette, parole, leggere tra le righe, amici, stelline, scatole, Dr.House, vestitini a fiori, argento, dormire, treni, Felicity, Paperino, manga, la politica come si studia nella storia (l'impero romano), enigmistica, profumo dell'erba appena tagliata, chitarra, violino, fiabe, inchiostro, camminare scalza, bolle, frutta, pennarelli, Lorelai Gilmore, PAperinik, cuffie, rughe, appiccicare cose alle pareti, folpi, le personeche non hanno sempre una ragione per ciò che fanno.

ODIO

caffé, errori ortografici, Studio Aperto, slealtà, i midi, modo di fare impostato, parlare per diminutivi (cia' raga' il pa'...), il signor B., musica commerciale, giovani scrittori maledetti, discoteche, il monumento a Padova per l'11/9, freddo, occhiaie, neofascisti, tracotanza, lo show business, le veline, il mercato dei valori, disprezzo per la cultura, invidia, ostentazioni, forzature, fighetteria, lampade abbronzanti, i gioielli della Brail, il traffico, la notte senza buio, Topolino, il razzismo, il razzismo al contrario, gli spazi chiusi, il Grande Fratello, ipocrisia, intingoli. Le persone che dicono "So come ti senti riguardo a Marta". Le persone con cui non avevo contatti prima e adesso vengono da me come se fossero sempre stati miei meravigliosi amici e chiedono: "Come stai?" ]]> ~polvereinnamorata http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/9327573/ http://polvereinnamorata.deviantart.com/journal/9327573/ Mon, 10 Jul 2006 01:13:39 PDT Yesterday I was thinking... Marta, maybe my best friend, knows exactly the way I am, I'm idealist to the marrow, from the heart to my heels!!! Well, obviously this World Championship is something so great, to me, I cannot believe it... i get thrilled for everything concerns such a form of heroism, can relate to my ideals of courage and purity, of justice and bravery and correctness and the whole rest.
Well, I needed it. More than any other material need, I need these things as the air, they can be an attorney which struggle with the Mafia, or the Olympic torch which get lighted up, or the terrific hero of a book... I know, the're on really different levels, but after all it's not them, it's me. I don't care where world is going now, I am my ideals, I want to be my ideals.
Ok, it was a long long revendication in Ani DiFranco's style...
But there was a small, thin part of me that didn't want to win yesterday night. Well, I was afraid of it.
We won last World Champ. in 1982, didn't we? The year of my birth. The year of my friend Marta's birth.
Well, I cannot think of it, there's too much reality against my face, with violence. We won W.C in the year you was born, Marta, and in the year you've died. That's too much to me.

Nearly two months ago. Miss you, sweety. ]]> ~polvereinnamorata