Metropolitan bathing time

The black cloud was there all sunday long
and monday too.
It was floating over town stormy as hell,
that tiny little black cloud.

Then yesterday it broke into rain,
and now it keeps on falling.
And last weekend feels heavy,
soaked as it is in black cloud's sweat.

But I will take you by the hand,
me or whoever or nobody,
walk you to the gardens, out on the balcony
and we and you will watch straight into the horizon.

Now let rain slip along your skin,
do you feel it? washing it all away?
Keep my hand -or nobody's- tight
and get lost into the heat of the grip.

Let the contact wrap around you
and comfort you and hug you,
for you must not feel loveless
sitting there all by yourself.

'Cause if there's anyone who's capable of loving
above anybody else in this world
it is you my dear buddy.

I promise the time will come for clarity,
and your chest will feel light again.
And if patience does not convince you
just go, open hearted and do tell and cry.

Look around.
Drops are falling all over the place, and us.
do you feel it? washing it all away?

6 a.m.

I am the Jiminy Cricket.

I jump around into the back of your head, and keep your feet to the ground.

I have a big hat, and baggy pants. You call up to me when things are fucked.

I see you from the outside, and foretell your next move. Most of the times I get it right.

Now it's 6 a.m. and I'm probably still drunk. Talking bullshit anyways. Bullshit that keeps me up at night. I shall just turn the page in my head and drift off to sleep. 

I tried, can't manage.

Being the Jiminy Cricket is tricky. At times you get stepped on to. Small and greeny, I got long legs and can be scary. People jumps even higher than I do when they realize I'm next to their feet.

But I usuall find my job, or better my hobby, fulfilling. On other occasions it's too... invasive, and I end up not getting enough sleep, which fucks up my days completely.

That is because sometimes people find me unconfortable, or they are simply scared. Scared of hurting my feelings, or disappoiting me. 

This time it's a bit different. This lady knows she is not probably doing the right thing. She knows she is making a risky choice, which will fuck things up again at a certain point. But temptation is a bitch at times. It comes in between, and I well know it can drag you with her.

But also she knows what I, the Cricket, think about this whole thing.

Anyway, whether she is scared to hurt my feelings, or to disappoint me, it tears me apart that she does not tell me.

We used to talk me and the lady. She was one of the good ones, those who do not step on you on purpose. Now things have changed a bit, and we are now adjusting. At least I hope so. 

I just wish she would tell me. 

Marcire

Mercoledì sera marcisco.
seduta in poltrona divento humus,
concime per il basilico secco sul davanzale.
Le mani tremano,
sono muscoli che saltellano di tanto in tanto
è la festa di decomposizione per me.
Vampate di calore
le ultime ad attraversare il mio corpo
penso di avere la febbre, ma non importa.
Sento la sua delusione da attraverso il muro
le note che mi accompagnano sono disperate
tendono le braccia verso una salvezza lontana.
Troppo lontana per afferrare le dita stanche.

I libri sul tavolo mi chiamano
stentatamente evito di rispondere
l'indomani saranno ancora lì ad aspettarmi.
Mi chiedo se la mia metà sar paziente,
e come fare a sbattere tutto fuori
richiudere rapidamente e tornare indietro,
o andare a vanti come più vi pare.
Mi sta evitando,
non lo posso sopportare.

Senza la mia metà,
marcisco sola, lenta.
Se solo sapessi, voglio urlarlo al mondo.
Prendere il foglio mal scritto
posarlo sul tuo cuscino.
Mi coricherei forse, marcendo un po' meno.

Ma ho dato la mia parola.
Ora dissolvo,
la mia lealtà mi tiene per mano, cosi credo.

Ma in realtà marcisco.

Condoglianze

Porgo a tutti le più sincere condoglianze per la disfatta elettorale.

Chapter 1: My own birth

Che cosa posso dire a questo punto.
Ho detto tutto quello che avevo da dirti. Questa storia si ripete da troppo tempo. Parole, parole. Suoni che esprimono la realtà. Chiamare le cose con il proprio nome. Dicono tutto e nulla contemporaneamente. Il loro futuro dipende da te e te soltanto. Io lo so e spero che tu lo sappia.
Ho deciso che il tipo di amica che voglio essere richiede che tu sappia quello che penso veramente. Al di là di tutto quello che c'è stato o forse non è mai esistito. Questo non lo so neppure io. Per il tuo bene, per la tua realizzazione, per la tua felicità. Voglio che tu sappia quello che penso, e che la mia porta sarà sempre aperta. Perchè è tutto quello che mi è rimasto da offrire.
Gli eventi sono prevedibili, invischiati in una ciclicità che sembra senza fine. Sto provando ad uscire, sono stanca. Ma non ho bisogno di riposo. Devo muovermi. Devo muovermi adesso, perchè mi è rimasto qualcosa da offrire, da condividere. E questo ripetersi è troppo stretto per la mia necessità di movimento.

Allora decidi tu come meglio credi. Sai tutto ciò che devi sapere. Ora è solo questione di scelte.

Song for a friend

Thursday night, every thing's fine, except you've got that look in your eye
when I'm tellin' a story and you find it boring,
you're thinking of something to say.
You'll go along with it then drop it and humiliate me in front of our friends.

Then I'll use that voice that you find annoyin' and say something like
"yeah, intelligent input, darlin', why don't you just have another beer then?"

Then you'll call me a bitch
and everyone we're with will be embarrassed,
and I wont give a shit.

My finger tips are holding onto the cracks in our foundation,
and I know that I should let go,
but I can't.
And every time we fight I know it's not right,
every time that you're upset and I smile.
I know I should forget, but I can't.

You said I must eat so many lemons
'cause i am so bitter.
I said
"I'd rather be with your friends mate 'cause they are much fitter."

Yes, it was childish and you got aggressive,
and I must admit that I was a bit scared,
but it gives me thrills to wind you up.

My finger tips are holding on to the cracks in our foundation,
and I know that I should let go,
but I can't.
And every time we fight I know it's not right,
every time that you're upset and I smile.
I know I should forget, but I can't.

Your face is pasty 'cause you've gone and got so wasted, what a surprise.
Don't want to look at your face 'cause it's makin' me sick.
You've gone and got sick on my trainers,
I only got these yesterday.
Oh, my gosh, I cannot be bothered with this.

Well, I'll leave you there 'till the mornin',
and I purposely wont turn the heating on
and dear God, I hope I'm not stuck with this one.

My finger tips are holding onto the cracks in our foundation,
and I know that I should let go,
but I can't.
And every time we fight I know it's not right,
every time that you're upset and I smile.
I know I should forget, but I can't.

And every time we fight I know it's not right,
every time that you're upset and I smile.
I know I should forget, but I can't.

Kate Nash - Foundations
(Made of bricks, 2007)

gold soundz - by pavement -

go back to those gold soundz
and keep my advent to your self
because it's nothing i don't like
is it a crisis or a boring change?
when it's central, so essential,
it has a nice ring when you laugh
at the low life opinions
and they're coming to the chorus now...
i keep my address to yourself 'cause we need secrets
we need secrets crets crets crets crets crets back right now

because i never wanna make you feel
that you're social
never ignorant soul
believe in what you wanna do
and do you think that is a major flaw
when they rise up in the falling rain
and if you stay around with your knuckles ground down
the trial's over, weapon's found
keep my address to myself because it's secret
cuz it's secret cret cret cret [etc.]... back right now

so drunk in the august sun
and you're the kind of girl i like
because you're empty and i'm empty
and you can never quarantine the past
did you remember in december
that i won''t eat you when i'm gone
and if i go there, i won't stay there
because i'm sitting here too long
i've been sitting here too long
and i've been wasted
advocating that word for the last word
last words come up all you've got to waste