#Sei's fragile mental state?

[nabi-unveiled]

It's official. I've lost my mind.

Because there's sizzling and boiling sounds during all kinds of critical moments. And there's sweet coffee that's only drunk at the office or shared with Sei until Hagiwara doesn't want it anymore. And there's all kinds of additional water imagery that I didn't write about the first time. And SO MUCH MORE. But let's stick with the sizzle for now.

Does food sizzle when grilled? Yes. But the show doesn't HAVE to include the sound, and it often doesn't. The sound comes in. It drops out. It plays sometimes when there is no food at all.

Sei has sizzling sounds when the emails begin getting more intimate.

It's there when Sei talks about Hagiwara's question with Fujisawa.

Until the sound drops (at least getting soft enough I can't hear).

There's sizzling while Hagiwara hears that others are getting married.

That seems to get louder when internally admitting his frustration.

There's something like a sizzling noise when Sei gets a little more vulnerable, but the sound is only on Hagiwara's side at this point. I still argue the museum was NOT the start for him.

There's boiling sounds as they continue their email conversations while eating separately.

This becomes sizzling sounds when they talk and eat together.

The sizzling in this scene fades in and out as specific points are being made. Sometimes Hagiwara puts on the meat. Sometimes it's Sei.

There's this statement (no sound) that I'm not certain how to take because Kaori obviously does mind that he's getting sizzle elsewhere.

But it DOES parallel. Kaori is not overly controlling of Hagiwara whereas Fujisawa exerts control over Sei.

Even if Sei willingly complies. That's a different essay though.

Things really begin boiling when Hagiwara goes to Ayako's house and Kaori's secret is exposed. Leaving Hagiwara bubbling with feelings.

But once the pot boiled over (note: it's a rain sound here)...

There's no more sizzle.

[kiseki-no-scenarios]

I received this request a few days ago but since it’s a heavier topic I took a little longer to think about it more and how to write it. Sorry for the delay, anon, I hope you enjoy!!

Pained Nostalgia - Akashi Seijuro x Reader

“Sometimes I wonder if my mother would be disappointed in who I was before Seirin won the Winter Cup.”

The two of you were having a quiet date at home, and you had just convinced Seijuro to lay his head down onto your lap, claiming that you wanted to play with his hair.

That was part of your objective, but you knew that the anniversary of his mother’s passing was just around the corner so you wanted to comfort him as well.

“Your mother loved you, Sei. Still loves you.” You reply, carding your fingers through his soft, crimson locks.

Seijuro closes his eyes as he leans in to your touch.  

“…I do not regret the path I had walked, but sometimes I wonder if there was another choice.” He continues, his chest rising steadily along with his breaths.

“We’re human. And, life is beautiful in the way that we can make choices, don’t you think?”

Seijuro pauses as he considers your words, nodding slightly.

“Yes, you are right. I feel that I can talk about my childhood with you, _____.”

Your fingers pause momentarily as you suck in a deep breath. You knew bits and pieces of Seijuro’s past, just through what you knew from being friends with the members of the Generation of Miracles. You’d never pushed Seijuro for exact details, however, worried that you would unintentionally hurt him as he dug through the trauma of his early life.

“Whatever you want to tell me, Seijuro. I’ll listen.”

A quiet lulls between the two of you as you continue running your fingers through Seijuro’s hair, smoothing down any wayward locks as he continues to rest with his eyes closed.

Seemingly finding the words on where to begin, his eyes slowly open, meeting your gaze. “The best way to describe my childhood…I supposed I felt suffocated, like I was being held underwater and drowning.”

“The burden of the title heir is a heavy one to carry, and from birth, I was a gem that had to shine brighter than anyone else. My childhood was not normal, to say the least.”

You nod gently, listening to the timbre of Seijuro’s voice. It’s steady, but you can detect an undercurrent of hesitance that lines his words.

“There was no concept of free time in my world. All the time I had was devoted to my studies, and I was expected to succeed in all aspects. Failure…was not an option.” As if preparing himself for the next part, Seijuro takes a deep breath.

“My one and only salvation was my mother, who introduced me to basketball. It was the only time I felt free, alive-when I had the ball in my hands, and I always remember how she watched me, a fond smile on her lips.”

You felt that you were beginning to understand the depth of his feelings for basketball as you listened to his words. It was his strongest connection to his late mother, something that was tangible, even now.

“After my mother passed, I fought tooth and nail to be allowed to continue the activity. My father eventually allowed it, under the condition that I always win. I could not afford to lose.”

Shifting, Seijuro curls to the side as he tucks himself against your side.

“The pressure became too much in middle school. The members of the Generation of Miracles were all developing their own skills, and growing apart from the team. It was the first time in my life I had felt a struggle to keep up, compounded with the fear that I would lose.”

You remember the stories about how Seijuro had changed during his time at Teiko, and how he had developed a second personality that took over. It was a form of mental protection, to protect the fragility of Seijuro’s mind.

“You know the rest of the story. How it was Kuroko that saved me, saved us all, really.”

“Even if you felt alone, Seijuro, all the members of the Generation of Miracles were by your side. Because they knew your true nature. They believed in you, Sei.”

“Yes, I am truly lucky to have known them.” A gentle smile pulls across Seijuro’s lips as he gazes up at you. “And, I am sure that you were sent to me too, _____.”

“You expect too much from me, Seijuro.” You whisper, ducking your head down in embarrassment.

“I’m only stating what is the truth. I always feel at peace when I’m with you.” Seijuro’s hand tugs your head down as he kisses you, leaving you breathless.

“I feel the same way, Sei.” You move your hand to his chest, feeling the thump of his heartbeat underneath your palm.

As much as Seijuro protected you, you would always protect him and his heart in turn.

[kaelen]

ser vs. estar

“ser and “estar” are both spanish irregular verbs that mean “to be,” but they aren’t used interchangeably. when i first encountered these verbs, i had a lot of trouble distinguishing when to use one over the other (and how to conjugate them, but that’s another post), so i hope that this is a helpful beginners’ guide to differentiating the two :)

ser

ser is used for permanent attributes (or semi-permanent but long-lasting attributes because what is permanent in this fragile state of being, really?). a helpful acronym is DOCTOR.

Description- the qualities that describe a person, and will probably continue to do so for a while, like their name, physical attributes, religions, nationalities, etc;

Soy Jorge.

Ella es judía.

Los niños son españoles.

Eres alto y rubio.

Occupation- what someone does as a hobby or as a source of income

Isabel es una enferma.

Mi hermano era un estudiante.

Characteristic- this refers only to personality characteristics because physical characteristics were covered in “Description”

Nosotros somos simpáticos.

No soy muy fuerte.

Time- you know what time is: years, months, days, dates, whatever the clock reads. you could even throw in the exact second if you’re feeling smexy

Mañana será la Navidad.

Son las seis menos cuarto.  

Hoy es lunes, el veinticinco de enero.

Origin- where someone/something is from, or the material that something is made of

Carlos y Nina son de Colombia.

Este té es de India.

La pulsera es de plata.

Relationship- how someone relates to another person

Marcos fue mi amigo.

Maya es su prima.

Luis es mi tendero.

estar

estar is used for, well, everything else, aka the temporary attributes, and the acronym here is PLACE (or LoCo for Locations and Conditions, but i prefer PLACE).

Position- where or how one is physically placed

Mi madre está de pie.

Nosotros estamos sentados.

Location- where something is (no matter if it’s temporary, permanent, or figurative)

Xavier está en la cocina.

El cine está lejos del supermercado.

Mi tío está en su propio mundo.

Action- what someone/something is doing

Estoy comiendo pan con mantequilla.

Tu abuela está muerto. (Tactful, huh?)

Condition- physical or mental states that will likely change over the course of the next few hours, months or years

Estoy enferma hoy.

Mis padres están cansados.

Emotion- how someone feels at a specific time

Él está emocionado.

Audrey fue preocupada.

ser vs. estar grammar practice:

i borrowed heavily from this article by SpanishDict, and their ser vs. estar practice quiz here is equally helpful

this StudySpanish quiz with many, many descendants

and if you’re more into printables

maybe you’ll like this other printable, too

or you might just want to do your own grammar exercises or look into the vast array of online practice opportunities that aren’t one of the four supplied. either way, best of luck!

*also if you find an error in one of my posts please, please, please let me know, so that i can fix it. i’m still a relative beginner, so any help in making sure that these are as accurate as possible is greatly appreciated. thanks!

[lost-inthechaos]

tw // anger

my heart is beating so fast I’m full of anger and disgust and I can’t sleep like this I want to spit on his grave, to destroy it and idk I just want him to suffer because life was too easy for that shit

__________

un tweet in bozza, che alla fine di questo post deciderò di eliminare definitivamente come se non fosse mai stato partorito dall’user brokencameera. mettermi a nudo sull’app del cinguettìo è prassi ormai, almeno 140 followers di cui non conosco neanche il volto conoscono i miei interessi, opinioni, orientamenti. Sanno dei miei daddy issues, del BED, dei miei successi e fallimenti e sono aggiornati quasi in tempo reale sui miei attacchi di panico e mental breakdown eppure non ho mai realizzato quanto di me stessi condividendo e con chi lo stessi facendo. non che la cosa mi spaventi realmente, anzi il fatto di potermi sentire capita con un like o una risposta da qualcuno di totalmente esterno alla mia vita mi ha sempre dato quel conforto e sostegno disinteressato che ci si aspetta da altri ‘utenti”. sono i rimanenti 16 followers ad avermi bloccato dal pubblicare questo tipo di contenuto, le domande che mi avrebbero fatto o non detto, ciò che avrebbero potuto pensare. è qualcosa di cui mi vergogno terribilmente, un incubo che mi ha perseguitato per almeno 20 anni prima di avere quasi la certezza che non si trattava di una mia paura riflessa in un sogno, ma della realtà da cui il mio inconscio ha cercato di proteggermi. pur non avendone ancora la certezza, le parole di mia madre “mi sono successe cose che non ho mai detto a nessuno e mai lo farò per il bene di tutti e non so nemmeno io come ho fatto a superarle” sono state come un ceffone in faccia per me e la prima immagine che mi è apparsa è proprio quella della luce del bagno in contrasto col buio della mia casa, e ciò che ho visto dallo spiraglio della porta.

non ci riesco. non riesco a trasformare in parole ciò che ho visto senza provare nausea, a disegnarlo senza che mi tremi la mano. provo solo frustrazione, rabbia, disgusto, un mix di emozioni talmente forti e rancorose da non riconoscermi. e invece io sono anche questo. sono anche cattiva, crudele, spietata ma nessuno lo sa perché nella mia testa c’è una regola suprema “fai la brava”. non potrò mai dire a voce alta queste parole né riuscirò mai a denunciarle con un disegnetto, ma su questo caos di pensieri deserto nessuno mi vedrà né mi ascolterà. si perderà come tutti gli altri post ma almeno sarà esistito. la mia rabbia non sarà repressa, la mia cattiveria non sarà cancellata, i miei pensieri non saranno censurati.

È stato fin troppo semplice per te. Sei morto di una malattia che ti ha mantenuto col sorriso fino all’ultimo respiro, con la comprensione e il rispetto delle persone a cui tu non lo hai mai dato. Avrei voluto che soffrissi, che l’alzheimer ti rendesse solo un frustrato e rabbioso leone senza denti. E invece sorridevi come un bambino indifeso e io stessa mi sentivo in colpa a non provare affetto nei tuoi confronti. Disprezzo. Questo è quello che provavo per un uomo come te. Ora è rimasta solo amarezza per non averti mai potuto castrare. Ho una rabbia cieca, irrazionale che non ho intenzione di studiare. Voglio sentire la mia rabbia. Voglio essere cattiva e irrispettosa. Voglio sputare sulla tua tomba, darci un calcio, disonorarla in ogni maniera possibile così che tu possa sperimentare l’umiliazione che da vivo hai provocato agli altri. Vorrei che realizzassi quanto fragile e pietoso fosse il tuo machismo ma ormai sei un corpo putrefatto, non esisti più e probabilmente l’essere andato via prima di tutti noi è la punizione che ti spetta. ora che ho la certezza dello schifo che eri, sarò la nipote più ingrata e cattiva che esista ma lo saprà solo questo caos. non ti perdonerò mai. È stato fin troppo semplice per te.

[bangtanitalianchannel]

[INTERVISTA] BTS X DAZED

“Incontriamo i BTS, il fenomeno K-Pop che sta superando i record del mondo

Abbiamo parlato con RM, il rapper dei BTS, il gruppo formato da sette ragazzi che, grazie all’ultra-dedito fanbase, è diventato il più noto act sud coreano a fare scalpore all’ovest.

La linea telefonica si collega a Seoul dov’è quasi mezzanotte e dove RM, il leader dei BTS, il gruppo sud coreano formato da sette membri, sta ripensando ad un pazzo mese (appena trascorso) in cui hanno battuto record – alcuni stabiliti precedentemente da loro stessi, altri che non avevano mai pensato di raggiungere – uno dopo l’altro in un’onda implacabile.

“Sento come se fossimo un palloncino…,” ha detto RM e nella sua voce si percepisce una sfumatura di incredulità. Il loro ultimo mini-album Love Yourself: Her è l’album K-Pop più venduto di sempre sin dai preordini (oltre un milione solo nel paese), e con il singolo ‘DNA’ sono ora il gruppo K-Pop ad avere raggiunto i 10, 20 e poi i 100 milioni di visualizzazioni YouTube più velocemente. Poi ci sono le posizioni raggiunte nelle classifiche: #14 nella UK Album chart, Top 10 nella US Billboard 200 album chart, mentre DNA non solo ha regnato sulle classifiche iTunes del mondo ma è salita alla #67 della Billboard Hot 100, la posizione più alta mai raggiunta da un gruppo coreano.

Le aspettative per il comeback erano ovviamente alte; i BTS (i rapper RM, J-Hope, Suga e i cantanti Jimin, Jin, V e Jungkook) hanno raggiunto il livello ‘fenomeno’ l’anno scorso con il loro secondo full album WINGS e il singolo stile moombahton Blood, Sweat & Tears. Ma il 2017 ha già portato un nuovo quasi incredibile strato di successo. Ogni giorno ora porta un nuovo record, un nuovo articolo o una nuova stazione radio occidentale che manda la vivace ed electro-pop ‘DNA’. Se il loro potente ed energico fandom, conosciuto come ARMY, si è sentito anche solo momentaneamente travolto da tutto ciò, allora non è il solo.

“Tutto si sta muovendo così velocemente,” ha aggiunto RM lasciandosi scappare una risatina. Intrigante e carismatico nella conversazione, lui è un rapido pensatore laterale che riesce a trasportarti in un’equivalente mentale di una gigantesca montagna russa. “Non sappiamo dove andrà questo palloncino ma sto solo cercando di godermela perché prima di tutto questo c’è stata tanta sofferenza. Sto cercando di non perdere di vista ciò che stiamo facendo.”

Durante le settimane fin dalla sua pubblicazione a metà settembre, anticipato da una serie di trailer collegati al concept precedente di The Most Beautiful Moment in Life, Love Yourself: Her è diventato sempre più intricato. Saturo di doppi sensi (essendo sia una ricerca dell’amore sia una lettera diretta ai loro fan), per la maggior parte il suo sound possiede un groove sicuro di sé e ricercato, ma allo stesso tempo mette da parte la sua superficie scintillante dove lividi e graffi giacciono sulle sue membra anche nelle tracce più dolci come “Serendipity”.

Mentre non capita spesso che ci è possibile entrare nel ciclo vitale di un album dove il senno di poi comincia a risplendere e forse si comincia a definire la prossima fase di un artista, questa resta comunque un’esperienza curiosa, illuminante e leggermente fragile. Tuttavia, senza esitare un istante, ci immergiamo in Love Yourself: Her per esplorare immediatamente le parti indottrinate nella tradizione dei BTS, il suo impatto, le sue ombre e il sempre più vasto effetto che raggiunge chi lo possiede.

-DOMANDA- Al rilascio del nuovo album tu hai definito Love Yourself: Her un ‘punto di svolta’ e ‘il secondo capitolo’ dei BTS, indicando la musica come elemento fondamentale. In questo mese trascorso sono emersi altri elementi che aggiungono ragioni a queste definizioni? RM: Il concept di The Most Beautiful Moment in Life, che era per noi il primo capitolo, aveva quell’atmosfera perché eravamo partiti dal fondo ma in questo concept, Love Yourself, abbiamo iniziato a parlare di cose più allegre, come le cose reali della vita. Sul lato professionale siamo entrati nelle classifiche Billboard e in quelle UK e i nostri stadi stanno diventando sempre più grandi… quindi sia dentro che fuori è un punto di svolta per i BTS. Direi che siamo solo in un altro universo, come un granchio ora noi ci troviamo in una nuova conchiglia.

-DOMANDA- Due dei momenti più commoventi sono le tracce nascoste, il parlato ‘Skit: Hesitation & Fear’ e ‘Sea’. Entrambi riguardano le difficoltà affrontate al vostro inizio e le attuali preoccupazioni riguardo la fama e il successo. Perché era importante avere queste due tracce nello stesso album? RM: Inseriamo tracce nascoste quando vogliamo aggiungere dettagli, no? Lo ‘Skit’ era necessario per rendere comprensibile ‘Sea’. Credo che si rispondano a vicenda. In verità ho parlato per la prima volta di queste paure, della felicità, del mare e del deserto nel nostro primo album (2 Cool 4 Skool), queste erano le tracce nascoste: uno skit chiamato ‘On The Start Line’ e una canzone chiamata ‘Path’. Sono passati quattro anni e ora parlo di come abbiamo affrontato tutto ciò, di cos’è il mare e il deserto dentro di noi e di cos’è il futuro.

-DOMANDA- Siete tornati al punto di partenza e, cavoli, non me ne sono accorta. Quindi in questi quattro anni, usando questo ultimo concept, cos’hai dovuto accettare o imparare ad amare di te stesso che al tempo non ti piaceva? RM: Ummm, ho dovuto accettare il fatto che non tutti possono amarmi. Perché quando c’è l’amore c’è anche l’odio, quando c’è la luce c’è anche il buio. È stato molto difficile come artista accettare che ci sono molte persone che mi odiano ma dall’altra parte ci sono molte più persone che invece mi amano. Penso che tutti attraversino questa cosa.

-DOMANDA- Ricordi il momento in cui sei riuscito a dirti ‘ok, posso sopportarlo’? RM: A dire la verità ci sto ancora provando (ride). Non mi sento ancora realmente fuori da questo ma mi sto abituando. Sono come un surfista, all’inizio riesci solo a pagaiare e cadere dalla tavola ma con il passare del tempo riesci a stare in equilibrio sulle onde più grandi (ride).

-DOMANDA- Temi come fato e destino vengono trattati in questo album. Hai sempre creduto di avere un sentiero già stabilito? RM: Nietzsche… una delle sue famose frasi è amor fati o ‘ama il tuo destino’. Diciamo che io sono nato in Corea e tu, Taylor, sei nata in Australia e questo non lo possiamo cambiare, non possiamo avere la stessa vita. Amor fati non intende dire lasciare tutto al destino ma partire con l’accettare ciò che non possiamo cambiare. Amare il nostro destino e il nostro ambiente e poi pensare che possiamo fare qualcosa con il fato e cambiare direzione. Noi ci troviamo su sentieri stabiliti da quando siamo nati ma credo che possiamo comunque cambiare alcune cose. Quindi credo nel mio destino ma allo stesso tempo non ci credo (ride).

-DOMANDA- Che impatto ha sulla vostra creatività questo enorme successo che state ottenendo con l’album? Riuscite a pensare “scriverò questa canzone e vediamo come va” o pensate “devo scrivere una canzone che non può non essere incredibile”? RM: C’è pressione, non posso dire di non sentirla. Ciò che sta accadendo è molto per me e tutto quello che gira intorno ai BTS si muove così velocemente, come il creare dieci canzoni in sei mesi. Alcune volte è troppo ma ricordo sempre a me stesso com’era nel 2007, ho iniziato perché volevo dire qualcosa. C’era un messaggio che sentivo dentro di me e volevo condividerlo attraverso la musica, quindi quando sono nel mio studio a scrivere cerco di andare piano. Cerco di guardare in profondità, penso a cosa sto cercando veramente di dire.

-DOMANDA- Tranne quando le persone ti bussano alla porta dicendo “Hai finito? Hai una canzone per me?” RM: (ride) Ah sì, è per quello che le persone la chiamano deadline (scadenza), perché ti senti dead (morto).

-DOMANDA- ‘Mic Drop’, sia la canzone che l’esibizione, è ormai un classico dei BTS. ‘La mia borsa è piena di trofei…/ Gli hater stanno già rinunciando / Il mio successo è già così oro… / Hai già fretta di scappare.’ I BTS hanno sempre lottato per loro stessi ma cosa rende questa traccia fondamentale per il vostro nuovo capitolo? RM: Hitman Bang (il CEO/produttore del gruppo) voleva che in questa canzone lasciassimo uscire la rabbia e il dolore ma è stato difficile perché dentro non era rimasta nessuna rabbia o gelosia, sono soddisfatto ora (ride). Amo i nostri fan, tanti miracoli stanno accadendo ogni giorno. Non ho tempo per dare retta a chi ci odia. Penso che questo si colleghi al perché Her è un punto di svolta per i BTS e ‘Mic Drop’ (aiuta) a comunicare che noi lasciamo cadere il microfono ed il primo capitolo è finito. È molto divertente.

-DOMANDA- Quanti microfoni ha rotto Suga lasciandoli cadere alla fine delle esibizioni? RM: (ride) Oh, no non (ha ancora rotto quelli buoni) per ora. Ne compriamo di economici, quelli da karaoke che costano sui 30$.

-DOMANDA- È chiaro che vi stiate godendo la vita ora ma ci sono emozioni più oscure che si nascondono nell’album. È possibile che vedremo qualcosa di più di queste emozioni nel prossimo album? RM: Queste emozioni ci sono ancora, non se ne stanno andando ma hanno una forma diversa. Non penso che l’amore sia solo felicità, complimenti e luce. L’amore comprende anche cicatrici, un po’ di odio e alcune cose sporche che teniamo dentro di noi.

-DOMANDA- E immagino che nessuno sia felice al 100% per tutto il tempo, anche quando tutto sta andando bene… RM: Proviamo delle emozioni più oscure e a volte ci sentiamo così pesanti con questi record e gli articoli e le persone che dicono ‘Oh, voi rappresentate la Corea, voi state rendendo famosa la Corea!!’, e ogni secondo noi siamo tipo ‘Grazie mille’, ma sai io sono ancora qui nel mio piccolo studio e provo a scrivere alcuni testi ed è tutto quello che faccio. Sto ancora cercando di capire come affrontare questa cosa.

-DOMANDA- Quindi, oltre ai BTS, cosa ti rende felice? RM: Grazie per questa domanda, non molte persone me lo chiedono! (lunga pausa) Non ho la patente quindi vado in bicicletta lungo il fiume Han. Questo è ciò che amo veramente perché a nessuno frega niente di me per un momento. Mi sento così libero. Amo anche collezionare figure e guardare i film di notte così posso guardarli tutto da solo e seduto nel posto migliore.

-DOMANDA- Devi indossare cappello, occhiali e mascherina per evitare che ti riconoscano? RM: Non indosso mascherine, mi metto solo un cappello perché i miei capelli sono troppo colorati, troppo brillanti (ride).

-DOMANDA- Alcuni critici hanno avuto una conversazione online incentrata sulla possibilità dei BTS di essere nominati per un Grammy. Non è accaduto quest’anno ma il prossimo… non si sa mai! Come ti fa sentire questa cosa? RM: Ho sentito che le persone ne stanno parlando ma io cerco di non pensarci. Se inizio ad aspettarmi qualcosa rimango deluso. Un Grammy è tutto un altro livello, è tutto un altro mondo per noi!

-DOMANDA- Se doveste vincere ragazzi dovreste sul serio indossare del trucco waterproof. RM: Ovviamente. Tutti piangerebbero. Penso che dovremmo preparare anche un completo waterproof.

-DOMANDA- Magari potreste semplicemente indossare plastica dalla testa ai piedi. RM: (ride) Sì, potremmo indossare una tuta spaziale o qualcosa del genere.

-DOMANDA- Avete avuto un’estenuante tabella di marcia in Corea per questo mese, più due concerti in Giappone per 80,000 fan – qual è l’aspetto che ancora ora è il più faticoso e chi vi mantiene sani? RM: Dormire. Il non dormire trasforma un umano in un altro umano (ride). Culturalmente i coreani sono abituati ma è ancora tanto difficile. Ci abituiamo ma mai completamente. J-Hope prova sempre a farci forza e io gli sono molto grato. A dire la verità mi piace definirlo come un nuovo leader del gruppo.

-DOMANDA- Siete insieme da anni, chi nei BTS riesce ancora a sorprenderti? RM: V. Le sue parole sono folli e anche il suo inglese lo è. Crea nuove parole e nuova grammatica e mi sorprende sempre. Penso che sia anche abbastanza bravo in inglese perché riesce a parlare con chiunque, ha più confidenza, ha più fegato.

-DOMANDA- Dicono che quando impari una nuova lingua non puoi avere paura di fare errori. RM: (sospira) Io ho sempre paura di fare errori. Penso di essere nato con questo.

-DOMANDA- Mi sono sempre chiesta cosa fanno i BTS prima dell’uscita di un album, c’è un rituale? RM: Ci riuniamo nel nostro salotto, beviamo qualcosa e parliamo di come dovremmo affrontare gli impegni e di come ci sentiamo. Non è niente di che ma ci fa sentire diversi, ci dà la forza di continuare a correre e mantiene il nostro atteggiamento perché ci ricordiamo sempre di quando eravamo tristi e poveri (ride). La popolarità è una bolla. È una montagna, puoi salire con molta fatica ma scendere molto velocemente.

-DOMANDA- Okay, ultima cosa… tu sei il re del cinque e della stretta di mano che finiscono male. RM: (ride) Sì, è quello che i fan dell’Europa e dell’America dicono! Ma amano quei momenti, giusto! È una cosa culturale? Non so perché ma nessuno nota le mie strette di mano e i miei cinque. Le mie mani sono davvero grandi e sono alto due metri quindi possono vedermi facilmente. È davvero triste, vero? (ride).”

 Traduzione a cura di Bangtan Italian Channel Subs (©CiHope) | ©dazed

[danielesfeeling]

A Luca

questa pagina di vita sarà una delle più difficili da scrivere della mia attuale vita.

Ancora non ho iniziato eppure sento già le lacrime uscire dagli occhi e cominciare a scorrere tra le mie guance però cercherò di scrivere una lettera, una di quelle che sai che non leggera mai il diretto interessato, in cui sei libero da ogni paletto mentale e dove puoi lasciar scorrere le emozioni senza aver paura che ciò ti possa rendere debole.

questa lettera la dedico a Luca.

Caro Luca, 

purtroppo non parliamo più ormai da quasi due mesi ed io non so più nulla della tua vita e tu, allo stesso tempo, non sai più nulla della mia.

Devo confessartelo Luca, io sto male.

 sei stata la mia ancora di salvezza nella landa lombarda e fino a l’altro ieri eri il mio punto di riferimento della mia vita al nord, le nostre strade si son divise ed io in tutto questo non mi sento di averne alcuna colpa.

 Ho sempre cercato di essere il miglior amico possibile: paziente, disponibile, sempre pronto a dare il 100% nel rapporto in cui crede e tu lo sai che sono così, l’ho sempre dimostrato sia a te che in amore.

io però sto male, e non perché le nostre strade sono ormai divise ma per come si siano divise e te lo giuro Luca io volevo solo il nostro bene, perché tu per me eri come un fidanzato, di cui la rottura ha lacerato in me il cuore, perché io in un certo senso ti amo.

non fraintendere le mie parole, non parliamo dell’amore romantico, quello delle farfalle nello stomaco,  ma di un amore pari a quello fraterno ed io mi sento di averne perso uno.

però ora devo parlare di te Luca, perché io le mie colpe le conosco ma tu non conosci le tue, l’orgoglio è sempre stato padrone della tua vita.

partiamo dall’inizio:

Tu mi hai trascurato.

dall’inizio di settembre, quindi dal trasferimento di Delvino e Raffy mi hai piano piano portato sempre più fuori dalla tua vita come se in loro avessi trovato una nuova amicizia che potesse sostituire il rapporto che avevamo noi, io ne ero geloso, mi sono sentito come se tutto quello che avevamo costruito in tutto questo tempo fosse così fragile da poter esser rimpiazzato dall’ultima persona appena arrivata. ma questo lo sai: mi hai visto piangere, stare male per te, soffrire l’ennesimo abbandono di qualcuno che sentivo realmente importante nella mia vita. Purtroppo da li ho smesso di credere alle tue parole: 

“Siete importanti entrambi per me”

“Non voglio problemi tra di voi perché vi voglio entrambi nella mia vita”

ho smesso di crederci tempo fa, in cuor mio sentivo che in realtà quello che volevi davvero era che nessuno potesse toccarti l’entusiasmo della novità.

Poi è avvenuta una delle cose che più temevo, la rottura con Alessandro.

beh che dire, non mi sei stato minimamente vicino, tu mi conosci e sai quanto posso soffrire un abbandono del genere, come mi spezzi l’anima , eppure in quel momento non ci sei stato anzi, hai sempre cercato di tirartene fuori il più possibile ed io non ne ho mai capito il perché.

“Non parlarmi di Alessandro”

-“Sai Luca, c’è questa cosa che è successa con Alessandro vorrei un tuo parere...” “Beh non c’è molto da dire, direi che si commenta da sola”

questo è stato il massimo di conforto che ho ricevuto da te, oltre un caffé e una chiamata in piena notte.

Vedi Luca, tutto questo mi ha ferito ma tu non te ne sei mai reso conto perché io, che nel mio piccolo pensavo a te e non te l’ho fatto più pesare ma sappi che non averti avuto vicino mi ha fatto davvero male.

Dopo Alessandro la mia vita ha iniziato a colare a picco, la carriera nell’aviazione per esempio è andata a farsi fottere e non ho avuto la possibilità di rendertene partecipe.

Ora immagina me caro Luca, tu che mi conosci e sai come sono.

Immagina che in poco più di due mesi ti crolli un amore, un’amicizia, una carriera, una vita. immagina che nello stesso preciso momento la tua famiglia stesse vivendo un  momento di crisi economica e che non sapesse più se potesse mantenerti dove tu ti stai costruendo la tua di vita.

adesso immaginami solo, nella mia casa a varese circondato dalle foto della mia vecchia vita sapendo di averne perso 3/4 non uscendo più di casa e passando il mio tempo a cercare di rimettere a posto i pezzi sparsi nel pavimento, e di nuovo;  senza più i miei amici, lontano dalla mia famiglia, senza più una carriera e senza più un amore in cui credevo. passando il tempo a vedere le foto e le stories di tutti voi che vi divertite e state bene senza curarvi minimamente di chi, qualche tempo prima, definivate vostro amico.

e adesso pensa che tutta questa situazione, almeno tra di noi, si è creata solo perché ho voluto esser sincero, e perché ho voluto essere io la coscienza di qualcun’altro ed alla fine dei giochi Luca, come hai visto tu stesso, quello che ha mentito non sono mai stato io.

ancora mi rimbomba in testa “Smettila di credere di essere l’unica vittima di questa situazione”

beh come vedi alla fine l’unica vittima sono stata io.

Vedi Luca, quante cose non sapevi, eppure l’unica cosa che ti interessava era sapere se avessi messo o no il cuoricino a Walter su Tinder,

Sei stato troppo occupato a vedere solo te per provare a vedere me.

[ramctheatheist]

5 Filmmaking Tropes of Mysskin

An edited version of this article can be read here.

Name : Mysskin Skills : Director, Screenwriter, Producer, Singer, Actor Language : Tamil Active Since : 2006 Favourite Genre : Crime Thriller / Drama Biggest hits : Onaayum Aattukkuttiyum (2013), Yuddham Sei (2011), Anjathe (2008)

Shanmugha Raja was so impressed by the character of Prince Myshkin in Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Idiot that when he began his film career, he decided to rechristen himself as Mysskin. And just as Amarendra Bahubali died while roaring “Jai Mahishmati!”, Mysskin is the kind of director who wishes to draw his last breath between shouts of “Action!” and “Cut!”. His films are a reflection of his real-life character. They’re moody, melodramatic, poetic, rebellious and stylised at the same time.

His Best Work

Onaayum Aattukkuttiyum (The Wolf and The Lamb, 2013): Chandru, a medical student finds a man lying bleeding on the road from a bullet wound. When hospitals and the police refuse to take swift action, he carries the wounded man home and attempts a splenectomy to save his life. The next day the man goes missing and the police arrive to arrest Chandru and his family, revealing that the man he saved was a murderer. Who exactly is the man Chandru saved? What happens to Chandru’s life after this incident? These form the rest of the film’s plot. Together with Anjathe (Have no Fear, 2008) and Yuddham Sei (Wage a War, 2011), this film makes up Mysskin’s crime trilogy.

Pisasu (Ghost, 2014): This isn’t your typical horror film in which the ghost wants to avenge its death so that it may attain liberation. The house of Siddharth, an upcoming violinist, is haunted by the ghost of a girl he tried to save from a road accident. Pisasu is Siddharth’s journey in understanding the ghost’s true intentions.

Trivia: This film was produced by Bala at a time when horror flicks were all the rage in Tamil cinema. Remember ‘cunning commercialism’ from Bala’s filmmaking tropes? :)

Nandalala (Lullaby, 2010): This film is in sharp contrast to the rest of Mysskin’s filmography in terms of content and genre. Inspired from Takeshi Kitano’s Kikujiro, it’s the story of two characters in search of their mothers - one is a lonely young boy and the other is a mentally challenged person on the run. Their unlikely friendship and adventures make this a heartwarming film, as illustrated by this scene.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3HvujIsqh9Y

5 Filmmaking Tropes of Mysskin

Compassion

Whether the genre is drama, thriller or horror, Mysskin’s recurring theme in each film has been compassion and forgiveness. His films inevitably have a character who begs for forgiveness or a character who wholeheartedly forgives. They’re compassionate and melodramatic crime dramas! His films are what you get if Anurag Kashyap’s body gets possessed by Rajkumar Hirani’s soul.

The world he portrays is cruel with untoward accidents lurking around every corner and filled with heartless people who look away when someone bleeds to death. In his world you’re better off being blind, but there’s inevitably that one soft-hearted person who’ll go to any extent to save a life. Pisasu depicts the pinnacle of compassion and makes you reflect silently on the violence that’s usually unleashed on screen in the name of revenge. In fact, this song gives voice to the underlying thread that ties all his films together. It speaks of darkness being dispelled by the flame of heart and God falling at the feet of man.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xtFE1eLcNUU

Stylised Staging

Mysskin abhors the close-up and finds it boring. His films lay bare their interiors for your inspection with innumerable static, wide-angle shots. You’ll find the characters going out of focus during critical moments. Mysskin likes to convey emotions through the entire body and movement, both of the actors and the camera. In his recent interview with Baradwaj Rangan, Mani Ratnam revealed his thought process behind staging scenes in a way that adds more depth. Likewise you can find Mysskin constantly experimenting with staging. Some work and some don’t but you can always see he’s trying. Here’s a scene from Anjathe of a police officer’s attempts to save a dying man. Emotion, emotion everywhere but not a single close-up to feel!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w44WU2a8c9A

Several cardboard boxes containing severed hands had to be revealed in public places at different points in the narration of Yuddham Sei. This is achieved by a repetitive visual motif, involving a long shot with the camera finally tracking sideways to reveal each box. And in Onaayum Aattukkuttiyum, when he depicts an investigation, visuals of officers asking questions is intercut with visuals of a wooden table being dragged across the floor. The sound of wood grating against concrete intercuts the barrage of questions.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cznhHYAQyUs

His stunts are extremely stylised and get your adrenaline pumping. Classic examples are the fight on an overbridge with a pocket knife in Yuddham Sei and the subway fight in Pisasu. There are no grand sets or camera gimmicks but instead you have simple blocking, movement and editing. This perhaps stems from the director’s love of kung fu, which by its very nature is a simplistic martial art. Moreover, the stunts are never present just for the sake of it. The overbridge fight comes at a point in Yuddham Sei when the protagonist gets a firm hold on the case he’s investigating, just as firmly as he grips the pocket knife in his hand.

Dark Humour

In the opening portions of Onaayum Aattukkuttiyum, as a bleeding man lies in the middle of the road, passers by click photos to be posted on Facebook. When he’s rushed to a hospital, there’s a ward boy who’s enjoying a comedy scene on television with a smile permanently plastered on his face. There’s wry humour in the last words of each person who is shot dead. Some of them shout out names of Gods, some the names of women while some merely cry out, “Why?” And in Yuddham Sei, a man’s severed head is found amidst a bunch of watermelons!

Fragile Protagonists

Unlike Bala’s protagonists who’re larger than life, Mysskin’s protagonists are flawed and fragile. We’ve seen cool police officers and gangsters in mainstream cinema, who strut on screen as if they were born to be a cop or a criminal. Mysskin strips his characters of any cool factor. In Anjathe, you can see the protagonist’s struggle in coming to terms with the harsh realities of being a police officer and in Onaayum Aattukkuttiyum, the medical student can hardly bear the brutalities that he’s forced to witness. When such protagonists overcome their weaknesses to stand up and fight, then we jump into their shoes and the film resonates with us.

Foreground Music

Mani Ratnam uses songs as a bridge to travel from one point in his story to another or to heighten and elaborate an emotion. Unlike Mani, Mysskin considers every song a roadblock to his narration. As a result, songs in Mysskin films are either non-existent or thrown in deliberately, thereby shifting the focus to background score.

Typically background score is used to underline emotions or in the rare case to act as a counterpoint to visuals. Sidney Lumet stated in his book Making Movies, “I want the score to say something that nothing else in the picture is saying.” Mysskin attempts to do just that and here’s a great example of this in an early scene from Anjathey. The film’s core is the friendship between two men which goes awry. As they reach a crossroads during their banter, the background score is an ominous wail mourning the events that are to unfold.

In a specific scene from Onaayum Aattukkuttiyum, when a character hacks at the legs of some baddies as revenge, the background score doesn’t celebrate his heroic act. Instead it mourns and sounds almost like “Ah! Being born as humans, the kind of things we’re made to do…” In Pisasu, after the protagonist witnesses death firsthand, the scene cuts to a music studio, in which he’s one of the violinists. He plays a tune that’s out of sync with the current composition but in sync with his internal emotions.

In Onaayum Aattukkuttiyum, which is in essence a hunting expedition, there’s the persistent hum and roar of bike engines throughout the film. This sound doubles up as a mechanical counterpoint to the human heartbeat as well as the dull roar of a predator. You hear it when a wounded man is drawing his last breath and hear it again when a constable remains frozen awaiting his death. This use of sound coupled with a background score helps Mysskin communicate unspoken words and emotions. In fact, in Onaayum Aattukkuttiyum he credited the composer Ilaiyaraja for “foreground score”.

In conclusion

In Yuddham Sei, the protagonist spends every night under the streetlamp where his missing sister was last seen. Just like the person from the zen story who searches for a lost key, the revelation hits the protagonist much later that he’s been looking in the wrong place all along. Mysskin’s films are peppered with many such zen moments. He’s a big fan of the Japanese haiku and his films are a vast and complex web made by stringing a lot of cinematic haikus together. Each scene is composed like a riddle that offers up something new on multiple viewings. The sequences in Pisasu that build up to reveal the true identity of the culprit are best enjoyed on a second viewing.

And just like a haiku you never know what’s coming. One moment you’d be savouring an existential quandary and the next line would hit you with melodrama and the very next would drop you in the middle of action. It’s best to treat the scenes of Mysskin films as you’d treat a haiku. Depending on your temperament, you could cast them aside as meaningless aesthetic constructs or plumb into their silent depths and construct your own meaning.

(With inputs from N Balasubramanian and Srinath Nalluri)

[thekuroiookami]

KnB (Akashi x Reader): The Queen’s Gambit - Part 7

After the summer party. 7.00 AM in the Akashi manor.

Morning sunlight gently filtered in through gauzy white curtains and dappled Akashi’s skin. You were close to touching him yourself, but hesitated in fear of waking him up. And the sight of him peacefully asleep, unburdened and somehow trusting, was something you wanted to enjoy a little longer.

I wonder what you dream of, Seijuro. Only good things, I hope.

You carefully shifted on to an elbow, taking your weight off his arm. He turned his head deeper into the pillow. On a suspicion, you picked up the clock on the bedside table, still moving as carefully as possible.

Trust Sei to have an alarm set for the weekend as well. I say, not today.

You smiled, switching off the alarm and settled down to watch him. He slept on, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The temptation was too great. You slowly, lightly pushed away a lock of his hair from his eyes, and stopped. He didn’t move.

He must be really tired after yesterday. I’m not surprised, it was a long day.

You decided to continue, tracing a path along his brow, across a cheekbone. Back into his hair, lingering in the fine strands, watching it slip through your fingers. A brush of your thumb at the corner of his mouth, over his jawline. Still he did not stir.

Take that, fan club. I bet you’ve never seen Akashi Seijuro look this beautiful.

You contemplated getting out of the bed and dressing, still absent-mindedly stroking his hair. Akashi radiated warmth, and the bed was luxuriously comfortable in the way only beds could be when all was right with the universe. The idea of having to move, face the world when you could be here tangled in his heat all day was too much to bear. You stilled, realizing that Akashi had been a bit too perfectly asleep for a while now. You narrowed your eyes at him.

Someone is still pretending they’re asleep, are they? I can fix that.

You sat up and moved over him, bracing both hands on either side of his head. Akashi didn’t move a muscle, but the air took on an anticipatory quality.

“Sei,” your voice was soft, soothing, “wake up. Time to get up.”

He didn’t stir, as you’d expected. You dipped your face closer to his.

“Wake up, Seijuro. It’s late.” A soft kiss to his forehead punctuated the sentence. He didn’t move.

You grinned, revelling in his pretence as much as he did. “Hmm, not waking up? I guess I’ll have to convince you then.”

You pressed a kiss to his jaw, and whispered again. “Wake up, Sei.”

Another kiss to his temple. “The sun is shining.”

Two more kisses, light brushes of your lips over his eyelids. “You’ve been asleep long enough.”

Yet another kiss, dropped on the tip of his nose. “Aren’t you going to keep me company?”

Your lips grazed his neck, where his pulse beat steadily. “Rise and shine, my love.”

A longer kiss, this time on his pale cheek. “Open your eyes, Sei.”

Finally, you pressed your lips to his, eyes closing at the sensation. “I’m lonely, Sei. Wake up.”

You lifted your head to find a not-at-all-sleepy Akashi looking straight into your eyes. You flushed a little, slightly startled by the intense scrutiny. He smirked, satisfied with the results. You moved to sit back and let him get up, but his hands on your upper arms stalled you.

“____.” His voice was low, resonant. “Come here.”

You leaned forward, drawn by his hypnotic gaze. He tugged you forward until you fell on to his chest, listening to the solid thump of his heart. You tried to look up at him, but he held you there, his voice reverberating through you.

“Stay still for a moment. Let me enjoy the peace while it lasts.”

In reality, he needed a moment to gather his thoughts before you sent them scattering like marbles everywhere. His skin still tingled with the memory of your touch, his imagination never having anticipated being woken up like this. He had stirred to consciousness with the feeling of your hands in his hair and had frozen at the unexpected sensation of being vulnerable. It had turned out to be a good move, because you had continued, humming as you peppered kisses over his face and generally treated him like he was a rare, fragile gem.

Ah, so this is what it means to be loved.

You smiled against his chest, unaware of his thoughts. “Good morning, Sei.”

He finally looked down, trapping you in his ruby gaze again. A slight smile of his own curved his lips. “Good morning, ____. Shall we get breakfast?”

You looked at him, pondering. “Only if I get at least one kiss in return.”

“That can be arranged.” You had to admit, Akashi Seijuro did keep his promises.

XXX

One normal day after class, after the beach trip. During club activity time.

If there was one thing you had to say you didn’t like about basketball, it would be that infernal noise. Not the sound of breathless young men, grunting and huffing in their race to steal the ball. Not the thump of said ball, echoing off the high walls of Rakuzan’s spacious gym. No, it was that horrendous squeaking that came from rubbery shoes grating against the shiny floor. That squeak was the plastic equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it.

Squeak. Slide. Squeak.

It wasn’t working. You resorted to your dependable music, plugging in a calming playlist of piano melodies.

There, much better. Now where was I with this essay again?

Unfortunately, the music began to have a deleterious effect after a few minutes, lulling you into sleep. The essay topic was not helping.

I will never understand why, when it is the most boring section of all, World War 1 is the longest chapter in our syllabus. It’s all guns and tanks. What’s interesting about that?

Your pencil became slightly slack in your fingers as you pondered the Warring States period instead. Now that was an essay worth writing. Your eyes drifted shut as the music reached a particularly soothing nocturne. It had been such a long day. First Rio and Rui had managed to spill tea over your notebook, drenching important notes for a test. Then you had arrived at school to discover that the same notebook also had your homework in it, but was at home drying. Then there had been that fiasco with the club’s budget. In the process of preventing the hot-blooded vice-captain from enacting violence, somehow you had several buttons broken from your blazer. It had taken ages to sew them all on again. And Akashi hadn’t been free to speak to you all day…

You woke up with a start when you pitched forward, dangerously close to falling off the bench. You shook yourself awake and looked up to see Nebuya and Hayama looking at you with concern.

“_____-san, are you okay? No offense, but you seem really tired.” Hayama was as brotherly as ever.

You stifled a yawn, feeling like your head was stuffed with wool. “I’m alright, just a bit short on sleep. Don’t let me interrupt your practice.”

Nebuya was sceptical. “You should probably go and rest for today.”

You shook your head. “Thank you senpai, but I should attempt to finish this.” You tapped the pencil on your book, giving them a wry smile.

They didn’t seem convinced, but returned to the court, where Akashi successfully got a dunk past Mibuchi and dropped lightly on to the floor.

The shooting guard shook his head. “That amazes me every time I see it. Sei-chan, however did you learn to do that?”

Akashi gave the smile of an amused conqueror. “Practice, I would say.”

Hayama rolled his eyes at this patently false modesty. “Ne, Akashi, _____-san is falling asleep on her feet over there. She says she’s fine, but I think you should check on her. She seems really tired.”

Akashi narrowed his eyes, not pleased with the reminder. “I am aware, but if I thought she’d listen to me when I said to rest, Iife would be much easier. But you are correct. We can wind up practice in the next ten minutes, and I will go see to ____.”

True to his word, the captain put everyone through a gruelling last few minutes of running and dismissed the team with promises of more torture the next day. Returning to the bench with Mibuchi, he found you sound asleep, head leaning on the wall. Akashi exhaled in exasperation.

Mibuchi smiled like a fond mother. “Oh my, ____-chan must be exhausted. What a rare sight. Sei-chan, are you planning to wake her up?”

Sei-chan hesitated. “I should, but…”

She looks so peaceful. And kind of…adorable. I didn’t even know I had that word in my vocabulary.

Mibuchi patted him on the shoulder in sympathy and left. You shifted in your sleep, unconsciously trying to find a comfortable position. Akashi mentally winced at the painful thought of having to wake you up, but knelt down to do it anyway. However, you didn’t respond to his gently shaking your shoulder. Just when he resolved to do something a bit more attention grabbing, you murmured in your sleep.

“Just…a minute more. Don’t go…Sei.”

Fascinated by this new, vulnerable side of you, Akashi sat down on the bench to inspect you. Your hair was coming loose from its braid and spilling on to your face. He reached out to brush the strands back. Your lashes brushed your cheek and your skin was flushed with warmth. He gave in to the irresistible desire and pulled out his phone.

This might the best picture I have of you.

You dozed on, oblivious. He draped his sports jacket over your lap, considering. Perhaps the best course of action would be to pick you up. He did just that, sliding an arm under your knees and lifting you. The movement finally woke you up and you blinked, confused.

You realized where you were and shifted uncomfortably. “Um, you can put me down now, thank you.”

Akashi merely tightened his grip and kept walking. You struggled a bit, embarrassed.

How is he even carrying me like I weigh nothing, anyway?

He gave you an admonishing glance. “Don’t be difficult, ____.”

You glared back at him, frustrated. “I’m not. If you could just let me walk- “

He cut across you, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t have any intention of letting you go. Unless you can answer a question.”

Your curiosity got the better of you. “What question?”

“What was special about the Winter Cup?” His face was neutral, but you could sense the weight behind the question.

You instantly understood what he was referring to and frowned, tucking your face in his shoulder. This was not a topic you wanted to delve into, but it had to be sooner or later.

Akashi looked at you, expectant. You sighed. “Fine, but can you put me down so we can have a proper conversation?”

He looked like he really didn’t want to.

I rather like having you in my arms.

Eventually though, he acknowledged it with a nod, and the moment your feet touched the floor, he grasped your wrist in a steel lock. You touched his hand reassuringly.

“I won’t run away, Seijuro.”

He glanced back as he led you to the student council room, which was empty. “I know. You have always been unflinchingly honest.”

You blinked at the unexpected comment. “Is that…a bad thing?”

“Not at all. I prefer it. At Teiko, I believe we spent too much time not acknowledging our feelings. Even Kuroko, who is usually the most sensitive of us. It might not have changed the outcome, but perhaps everyone would have had less difficulties if they knew there were others who cared. I consider my time with you too valuable to be wasted on subterfuge.”

You didn’t say anything, because there was nothing to be said. There was a great deal of meaning behind that speech, the implications of which you couldn’t untangle without wondering what kind of pain Kuroko, Kise and everyone else had gone through. You decided to focus on the fact that Akashi had come far enough to consider it objectively.

He handed you a cup, wispy tendrils of steam floating from it. “Here, the tea will help you feel more awake.”

You nodded in thanks and slowly sipped the tea, thinking. He seated himself with an air of patient expectation.

“When I first saw you, it was with Mayuzumi-senpai. I don’t know if you remember this, but it was a day when he was still reluctant to join the team. I remember seeing the other members and thinking that it would be difficult for Rakuzan to win if the team wasn’t really a team. Then you walked in, they straightened up, and everyone began playing like their lives depended on it. I thought to myself then that a first-year that could keep their personalities in line was either that inspiring or that terrifying.”

His eyes were shaded, his tone contemplative. “Did you get an answer to that?”

“Yes. I made eye contact with you in the hallway one day and realized. It was both.”

He waited for you to continue, not offering an opinion. “We never met in person, but you’re not someone that has a low profile, so I knew about you. The general image I had was that you were…how do I put this? In disguise? Someone who was mostly covered in shadow to give the impression of something else.”

His eyes sharpened. “I see.”

“I had largely decided that we would probably never be friends. Not that I disliked you or anything, but you didn’t seem like you were the kind of person who cared about such things. You were busy all the time – school, basketball, the student council, your tutorials. It didn’t seem likely we would ever be in a situation where we would talk to each other, and no offense, but you seemed cold. I didn’t feel the need to know you.”

“No offense taken. What changed?”

Here came the problematic bit. “If you remember, Rio and Rui were as obsessed with the Generation of Miracles then as they are now. I didn’t see all the matches, but they insisted on me watching the finals. I would have gone anyway – the whole school was attending – but they somehow dragged me into one of the front row seats. I remember Rui jumping up and down when she spotted Kuroko-san on the court. That’s how close we were.”

Akashi almost smiled. He could imagine what your siblings would have been like. “And then?”

“And then you proceeded to destroy everything. The other team. Mayuzumi-senpai. My expectations. I was shocked because I hadn’t realized just how far your ruthlessness went. Watching the first three quarters of that match chilled me, because no one on the court was enjoying it.”

From the stiff set of his shoulders and the tightness of his jaw, you could tell Akashi wasn’t happy with it either. You heaved an internal sigh. This was why you had been reluctant to discuss this.

“I’m so sorry to say this, but I was glad when you lost. Kuroko-san has all my gratitude for making that happen. After that, you lost the coldness. I could tell when you changed, became someone else. Was the basketball team very surprised?”

His reply was sardonic. “I would say so.”

You smiled. “I can see the look on Hayama-senpai’s face now. Then as you know, the match progressed, Seirin won and so on. After the game, I was leaving when I saw you there, smiling at someone. It was…so different. You were sad, yes, but also happy at the same time. I don’t think I had ever seen a real smile on your face before. Then somehow, we made eye contact again and I knew. That the shadows were gone, and that you were a warm person.”

That someone as strong as you could be so lonely.

Akashi’s eyes glittered, now fully bearing down on you. “That is a great deal of faith you put in me. What if I hadn’t changed?”

What if she had never cared enough to approach me?

“That’s the theory I was testing when I pulled that gambit with the treasurer. I’m not that bad a judge of character, you know. There was a point though, when I realized you could have been a serial killer and I wouldn’t have cared.”

This was new. “Interesting. What inspired that kind of thought?”

You blushed a little. Revealing your weaknesses, even given your policy of honesty, was a bit too much. “Do I really have to tell you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Now that you’ve said that, yes.”

You hid your face in your hands. This was going to be so embarrassing. It came out as a whisper. “I found out about the unicorn.”

“What?” Where had this conversation gone?

“The plushie. I know you told her not to tell me, but I extracted it out of Komachi. Her aim is notoriously bad, so I was wondering how she got a prize from a ring-toss game. When I found out you got it for me, I was so surprised. And happy. No one had ever done something like that for me.”

You peeked out between your fingers. “How did you know that? That giving me a gift like that would unerringly melt my heart?”

Akashi was wondering, how in the space of a few minutes, he had gone from being chillingly ruthless to romantic hero. He decided a minor reciprocation of the truth was in order. After all, who knew what you might reveal next?

“I didn’t know. I just saw you looking at it and thought you might like to have it.”

Your face turned completely pink. “It’s even worse if you didn’t have any ulterior motives. What on earth will I do? You’re such a danger to my health.”

He smiled pleasantly. “More importantly, if your undying loyalty can be bought with a stuffed animal, I should be worried. Anyone with a teddy bear could steal you away. That’s unacceptable.”

You gave him an equally pleasant smile. “Then you’ll just have to work harder, won’t you? Put all your considerable powers to the task. So, to sum it up, I realized the dark truth that Akashi Seijuro had been hiding so well these years: he is a marshmallow at heart. Now you know everything.”

He was eyeing you dubiously. “I feel like I understand even less than I did before. Why would you go so far for someone you barely knew?”

That was the clincher, wasn’t it? Why your senses inevitably turned to Akashi like he was true north. Why you hadn’t been able to stand back and just watch the boy with the lonely eyes go past.

“I…don’t really know. Something in me doesn’t like the idea of letting you be alone. These questions are really hard to answer!” The last words came out in a frustrated snap.

Akashi rubbed soothing circles over your wrist. “I did not intend to trouble you. I just wanted to understand your feelings.”

You were instantly apologetic. It was hard not to be, with him being so loving and agreeable. “I’m sorry. I understand; it was just aggravating me that I couldn’t articulate my thoughts.”

Akashi disagreed. “On the contrary, it has been very enlightening. You seem less of a mystery now.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “I’m the mystery? What about you? I can never tell what you’re thinking, especially if it’s in relation to me. I still have no idea why we’re dating. Care to shed some light on what you see in me?”

He dropped a kiss on your palm with a secretive smile. “If you can’t figure out something so obvious, it shall have to stay a secret.”

“That’s not fair!”

“I never said I was.”

You sparred with him all the way home until he kissed you to silence you. It may have worked.

XXX

The next day after the beach outing. Somewhere near Ueno.

“What exactly does one do on a typical date in Tokyo?” You shaded your eyes, trying to look out at the busy street.

“Presumably the same things that one does on a date in Kyoto, only with less greenery.” Akashi’s reply was quietly amused, as usual.

“So high-stakes poker games and debates on the Art of War, then?” Akashi had slightly less of an advantage in card games because an element of chance was involved. And because you may have started removing items of clothing suggestively. Though he’d still won in the end.

He huffed a laugh at the memory. “I’d say more in the line of taking in sights and shopping. Is there anything in particular you’d like to do?”

“Eat cake at a café, maybe? I can’t really think of anything specific.” You slipped your arm through his elbow, wanting to be closer.

“Then I have an idea. This way, ____.” You were gently guided down the street.

Ten minutes later, you decided Akashi should be left to plan every date ever.

“It’s the zoo! I forgot that it was around here somewhere. You know me too well.” It was hard to contain your delight.

“It is a subject you have made your feelings clear on.” His voice had an indulgent streak in it a mile wide.

“Are you sure though? I don’t mind doing something you want to do. Cute animals can wait.”

He tipped your chin up with a finger. “My idea of a date is spending time with you. Anything that makes you happy is worthwhile.”

A glow of affection spread through your chest. “Thank you. Shall we go explore then?”

This time it was you leading Akashi around as you tugged him from animal to animal, exclaiming over their fur or the lack of it. Of all the animals, the flying squirrel was your undoing.

“Oh my goodness, Sei, look at its eyes! Why is it so cute? My heart can’t take it.” You leaned back into him for support. He caught you with practised ease.

“It looks rather conveniently portable,” he agreed.

Your eyes widened at the image. “Just imagine carrying it around in your pocket! You come up with the best ideas. Would they be deeply offended if I kidnapped one?”

He pretended to think about it. “If you took all the other animals you promised to abduct, then yes. Is there one that you don’t like, come to think about it?”

“There aren’t many,” you admitted. “I find it hard to hate most things with fur and wings.”

“What about snakes then?”

“I don’t hate them, and some can be quite beautiful. Though I suppose I don’t feel the same about them as the squirrel.”

“It’s just the spiders that you’ve reserved for your animosity, then.”

That cast a dark cloud over an otherwise happy day. “Do not bring that up.”

Akashi merely gave you one of his enigmatic smiles and suggested that it was time to go to lunch.

At the restaurant, you chatted to Akashi about the previous day’s events.

“So what did the boys do after Garcia-san threatened them with the volleyball?”

His face turned into the Akashi version of an eye-roll, which was a flat look. “Their own version of a slumber party. Aomine and Kagami ended up arm-wrestling. Himuro and Kise were discussing hairstyles in one corner, Murasakibara was asleep in the other. Izuki-san and Takao were trying to draw faces on him. Midorima, Kuroko and I talked about Teiko for a while.”

His memory was impressive. “It sounds…lively.”

“It was-“ Whatever he’d been about to say trailed off as an expensively dressed girl sauntered over to the table.    

“Akashi-kun. What a pleasant surprise, running into you here,” she purred.

“Hasegawa-san.” Akashi’s face was totally neutral, but the curtness of his reply told you everything you needed to know.

She turned her cat-like green eyes to you, assessing. “And who might this be?” Her tone suggested you were on the level of a dead extra in a war film, completely insignificant.

“This is ____-san, my girlfriend. ____, Hasegawa Eri-san is a family acquaintance.”

“Pleased to meet you, Hasegawa-san.” You dipped your head politely, waiting for her to brandish whatever weapon she had up her sleeves.

She didn’t disappoint. “Family acquaintance? That’s an understatement, Akashi-kun, considering we were engaged at one point.” She gave you a triumphant and significant look.

You just smiled back, not sure why people kept bringing up these former fiancées like they mattered. They weren’t actually married to Akashi, after all.

Meanwhile, the prince with the alleged harem was not pleased. His voice became dangerously calm.

“I’m sure you are busy with other things, Hasegawa-san. Please do not let us keep you.”

You resigned yourself to the drama as she laughed prettily. A wave of her manicured hand produced a waiter who then made a chair appear from nowhere. A chair that was placed uncomfortably close to Akashi, with the blonde girl holding court on it. You wondered how he planned to deal with this, and sat back to watch.  

“So, Akashi-kun,” she said, slanting closer to him, “tell me. What are you doing in Tokyo today?”

He leaned back in a manoeuvre that was both kingly and distancing at the same time. You almost applauded. “____ and I are on a date today. We were visiting some attractions and stopped to have lunch.” Unspoken but clearly implied was “until you interrupted.”

Eri clearly didn’t care what was implied. “I’m sure that’s all fine” – there was a disdainful glance at you here – “but perhaps you’d like some real entertainment.” She emphasized the point with a saccharine smile and a lingering caress of his arm. You winced, feeling sorry for Akashi.

She’s decided to go down that route, has she? I might have to stab Eri-san with my chopsticks.

He, on the other hand, was clearly used to this and brushed her fingers off in a trained movement.

“Thank you, but I am otherwise occupied. Perhaps you should find someone else to accompany you.”

Seeing that Akashi was not a viable target, she turned her attention to you instead. You waited, your face set in mild curiosity.

Brace, brace, brace.

Again, she was quick to fire. “____, was it? I’ve never heard of that name before. Is it an important mercantile family in Kyoto?”

Oh, we’re going for the elitist bullets. Fine by me.

“Not at all, unless you considering teaching a business.”

“Do you have old family connections then? How is it that you are so well-acquainted with Akashi-kun?”

I shouldn’t add fuel to the fire, but I can’t resist.

“Seijuro and I met at school. As for family connections, I don’t know of any, unless you count that two imperial concubines that my grandfather claims we’re related to.”

Akashi set down his glass sharply and looked away to hide a smile. Both of you ignored him.

“Then what use are you to Akashi-kun? Surely it can’t be your looks.” She tossed her hair back in a contemptuous flip.

Wow, she really went there. Is there a comeback to this?

“Oh, I just act as a sympathetic listener when he tells me about all the two-faced snakes he’s met that day. Come to think of it, he might have mentioned you too, Hasegawa-san. Is that right, Seijuro?”

“I can’t remember,” he murmured truthfully. Eri narrowed her eyes in fury.

“It’s been an enjoyable chat, but I must be leaving now. Akashi-kun, take care now.”

He turned his head, about to acknowledge her blessed departure. Eri, however, had to have the last word, and leaned in, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth. He froze in shock, eyes wide.

Your temper snapped.

Ok, I’ve had enough.

Eri sat back, smirking in victory. “I’ll be seeing you then, Akashi-“ There was thud and a soft splash as a pungent liquid spilled onto her pristine pink dress. She looked down, horror dawning slowly.

You held up a hand to your mouth. “Oh dear, I seem to have spilled the soy sauce. Clumsy me. It must be the poor looks. I do hope you can wash that silk, Hasegawa-san.”

She stood up, gave you one last look full of venom, and whirled away in a flurry of silk and perfume. You watched her go with relief and turned back to Akashi, who still looked a bit lost.

“Here,” you said, holding out a napkin, “there’s still lipstick on your skin.”

Outside on the street, Akashi glanced at you carefully. You had been silent for the past few minutes, and it was making him restless.

“____,” he began, “I’m sorry about the-“

“Sei.” You cut him off abruptly. “Over here.” You pulled him into a shaded spot under a tree. He was pushed back against it without much notice. You moved your hands up his shoulders, lips near the strong column of his neck.

“You smell like her,” you murmured. “I don’t like it.”

That was all the warning he got before you kissed him. It was fierce and desperate, out of character for you. One hand slid into his hair, the other fisting in his shirt. He could feel every curve of your body pressed against his frame.

He tried to regain control of the situation and pushed you back a little. “Perhaps we should take a moment…”

“No.” You took advantage of his surprise to sweep your tongue over his, possessive. He went still as your hips aligned with his. Your fingers traced under his shirt. “I won’t let go.”

There was a beat of silence as he took this in, and suddenly you were the one trapped against the tree.

“Why, ____”, his voice musical in its amusement, “are you jealous?”

“I don’t know what gave you that idea.” You tried to pull him to you again, but he had your hands firmly immobilized behind you.

“Don’t, my love. Not unless you want to play with fire. I’m on the edge as it is.” His eyes glowed with promise.

You set your jaw stubbornly. “It would serve you right for not dodging that female. Point guard and reflexes, my foot. I was only going to spill water on her until she did that.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You never cease to surprise me. Who knew you were so possessive?”

You looked at him sharply, increasingly annoyed. “The promise goes both ways, Akashi Seijuro.”

“I haven’t forgotten. It will not happen again. Now there’s somewhere I want to visit before we catch our train. Let’s go.”

You stared at him, heart still pounding from his closeness. His eyes sharpened in understanding.

“Patience is a virtue, ____. When we have our first time together, I would prefer that it happen on a bed behind closed doors. I will take my time getting to know you. Until then, be satisfied with this.” He placed a light kiss on your fingers.

You sighed, unable to resist, as always. “Of course. You’re right. Let’s go.”

When you saw where he wanted to go, you almost reconsidered it.

“A boutique? Why are we here?” It had all the signs of a small but hideously expensive store: an ornate shopfront, an artfully dressed mannequin, a name written in calligraphy.  

“You’ll see.” He strode into the store like he owned it, which, on further reflection, was a strong possibility. The saleslady greeted him with practiced familiarity.

He nodded in acknowledgement. “The items I asked for are to be fitted on her, please.” You gathered that you were the subject of that sentence.

“Sei? Would you like to tell me what’s going on?” You had a premonition of a manga-like scene involving dress changes.

“I will after you’ve tried it on.” He gave you a gentle push in the direction of the expectant assistant.

“I’m only doing this because you never ask for anything.” You reluctantly followed her into the dressing room.

After a few minutes of brutalization, you stepped back out for Akashi’s inspection.

“How do I look?” The yukata was a purple so deep it was almost black, with bursts of white, lilac and pink flowers.

Akashi held his breath as you pivoted to check your reflection in the mirror. He hadn’t taken into account the impact it would have on his imagination. Somehow those flashes of skin as you moved – the nape of your neck, a glimpse of your wrist – created a fascination that had him curling his fingers.

When you turned back, his face was as unreadable as always, with a slight smile. “It looks perfect.”

Your heart skipped a beat, until you remembered you didn’t know why you were wearing a yukata. You looked at Akashi with a raised eyebrow. His smile widened.

“There’s a summer festival next week. I’d like to go watch the fireworks with you.”

You tried to hide your surprise, but it didn’t work. “And the yukata is for that?”

“Yes. As I suspected, it suits you.” He hadn’t realized he had a liking for you in kimonos, though.

You looked down at the beautiful fabric, biting your lip. “Sei, it’s lovely, but I can’t accept a gift like this. It’s…too much. There’s no way I’d be able to repay you.”

“There’s no need to. This is something I enjoy doing.”

“But I can’t just watch it happen,” you protested. “This relationship often feels precariously unequal and I hate that I can’t seem to give you anything in return.”

“Perhaps I want it that way.” His voice was so muted you barely heard him.

Perhaps I want you to be the one drowning in debt to me so you can never leave. Perhaps I’m the one that’s inadequate and will never be able to repay what you’ve given me.

“I…what?” You stared at him, eyes wide. He shook his head and smiled.

“It’s nothing. I’m sure you’ll find a way to surprise me. For now, take the yukata because it makes me happy to give it to you.”

You thought about it some more and conceded defeat. “Okay. I’ll just have to try my best to give you as nice a present.”

“Good.”

Later, you would admit that Akashi had never looked as happy as when you turned up to the festival with his pin in your hair and dressed in the purple fabric. It was a worthwhile memory, one to keep forever.

Read the previous chapters for things to make sense :)

[pangeanews]

“Scrivo per scoprire l’animale che ho dentro, per accettare l’incertezza”: il nuovo libro di Sylvain Tesson, alla ricerca del leopardo delle nevi

La letteratura ‘di viaggio’ non esiste – la letteratura è sempre un viaggio, altrimenti, meglio tramutare i verbi – la verbosità con cui diamo assoluzione alla nostra pigrizia, giustifichiamo i frustrati – in intenzioni e partire.

*

Chi legge libri come un viaggio – io! – o è un ozioso sedentario, o è un uomo che alterna la fuga alla pazienza.

*

Sapevamo viaggiare, i narratori italiani dico, dal Ramusio ai frugali resoconti del Seicento, fino alle fiction di Salgari e di Vittorio G. Rossi. Oggi in pochi (quasi tutti son reclusi nello studiolo sociologico del proprio ego) s’azzardano al viaggio e si danno alla ‘letteratura di viaggio’, sigla di serie B. Eppure, gli esteti restano: Paolo Rumiz, Davide Sapienza, Enrico Brizzi (passato dal romanzo al reportage); Gianluca Barbera ha dato al romanzo foggia viaggiante.

*

Nel mondo anglofono detta norma Bruce Chatwin, che dice di provenire da Robert Byron, ma il più sagace di tutti è Patrick Leigh Fermor. Solo che gli inglesi, sempre, guardano dall’alto in basso, da Crusoe che possono rifare Londra – e i club – su qualsiasi isola deserta.

*

Taglio corto. Sylvain Tesson ha preso gli occhi degli avi francesi che sondavano la Persia, le labbra da quelli che favellavano d’Indocina. Insomma, Nelle foreste siberiane – intelligentemente tradotto da Sellerio, insieme ad altri testi dell’autore, pubblicato da Gallimard nel 2011, Prix Médicins Essai (vinto, tra gli altri, da René Girard, da Joan Didion, da Svetlana Alexievitch) – mi è piaciuto, al netto di certi francesismi (ergo: esibire l’individualità vampira nella taiga). Figlio di Philippe – giornalista di peso, fondatore de “Le Quotidien de Paris” – Sylvain Tesson ha il genio dell’avventuriero (tra le imprese: ha attraversato l’Islanda in bicicletta, è stato in Borneo per una spedizione speleologica, ha fatto 5mila chilometri a piedi tra Buthan e Tagikistan, ha abitato in Pakistan e Afghanistan al seguito di una missione archeologica…) e il talento dello scrittore. Due pregi che valgono, narrativamente, oro.

*

Ha pubblicato tanto, Tesson, risvegliando il mito del Wanderer, l’escursionista meravigliato, incantatore poetico (vedi Hölderlin e la sua grecità mentale). In Italia i suoi libri sono editi da Sellerio, per Rizzoli ha pubblicato Un’estate con Omero, ora, con Gallimard, ha appena pubblicato l’ultimo libro, La panthère des neiges. Il leopardo delle nevi. Il brandello è seduttivo: “C’è un animale, in Tibet, che inseguo da sei anni, mi disse Munier. Vive sugli altopiani. Ci vogliono lunghi appostamenti per vederlo. Torno quest’inverno, ce la farò. Di chi parli?, gli chiesi. Il leopardo delle nevi. Gli dissi che pensavo fosse estinto. È quello che ti fa credere, mi rispose”.

*

Il leopardo delle nevi è il titolo di un super classico della ‘narrativa di viaggio’. Lo ha scritto Peter Matthiessen quarant’anni fa, pubblicato da Mondadori poi da Neri Pozza ora è in edizione Beat. Il viaggio coincide anche con un percorso filosofico nei recessi della religione tibetana.

*

“L’avevo incontrato una Pasqua, durante la proiezione del suo film sul lupo d’Abissinia. Mi aveva parlato dell’elusività degli animali, di quella virtù suprema: la pazienza. Mi aveva raccontato in dettaglio la sua vita come fotografo di animali, le tecniche dell’attesa. Arte fragile e raffinata quella di mimetizzarsi nella natura, aspettando una bestia, che forse arriverà. Di solito, l’osservazione finisce in un nulla di fatto. Questa accettazione dell’incertezza mi sembrava molto nobile, quindi antimoderna”. Queste sono le prime righe dell’ultimo libro di Tesson. Come (quasi) sempre, lo scrittore si mette al seguito di chi ne sa di più. In questo caso, va ad Est con Vincent Munier, fotografo francese, tra i grandi nel lavoro in zone selvagge. In attesa (appunto) che il suo libro approdi in Italia, una intervista. (d.b.)

**

Dicci del leopardo delle nevi.

Sappiamo poco e male. Ne restano circa 5mila esemplari in zone inaccessibili, dal Pamir all’Himalaya orientale e dall’Altaï al Nepal. È un animale adatto ad altitudini molto elevate: le sue tracce sono state trovate anche a 6mila metri. Ma una delle ragioni principali per cui è una specie poco nota è che è molto difficile da avvistare: ha abilità mimetiche tali da poterti passare a dieci metri di distanza senza che tu te ne accorga. È pesante, massiccio, si ciba di prede molto agili: compensa la sua relativa lentezza con un camuffamento che gli permette l’effetto sorpresa e lo scatto necessario alla caccia.

Nella prefazione racconti il tuo legame con il fotografo Vincent Munier…

Tra i motivi che mi hanno portato a seguire Munier c’è la ricerca della parte animale di noi stessi, da cui ci siamo allontanati troppo. Questa distanza ha il nome della nostra vita, si chiama cultura, linguaggio. Inoltre, Munier mi ha proposto di stare nella natura in un modo per me finora inedito, praticando l’arte dell’attesa: immobilità, occultamento, silenzio. Un’arte di integrazione con la natura e di dissoluzione del sé, quasi.

Come è possibile praticare l’attesa in regioni dove il gelo è pungente?

Totale abnegazione di fronte alla sofferenza inevitabile per adempiere al proprio progetto. Questo mi importava. Che significa: l’obbiettivo mentale che ci prefiggiamo – in questo caso, osservare un animale – ci fa dimenticare tutto il resto. Occorre gestire il corpo, inchinarlo al desiderio. Vincent Munier sa che l’animale, infine, arriverò, che la ricompensa è plausibile. E attende.

Quindi: perché si attende?

Per vivere il sentimento sacro che ti trasmette la vista del leopardo delle nevi. Non è un pensiero magico né sciamanesimo da show, il mio, ma sottolineare, semplicemente, le virtù della pazienza. Ho capito che tra la speranza che qualcosa accada e il momento in cui accade c’è un intervallo pieno di pensieri insospettabili e inattesi, che non arrivano se non si attende. L’attesa è antimoderna nella misura in cui ci riporta a ciò che le nostre vite moderne, iperattive, caotiche, casuali, condannate all’immediatezza, ci sottraggono. Ci costringe a considerare l’ipotesi che ciò che attendiamo, pur dopo molto tempo, potrebbe non arrivare mai. L’attesa ci fa ragionare sul fatto che ogni impresa è anche il suo fallimento.

*In copertina: Sylvain Tesson; in Italia i suoi libri sono tradotti da Sellerio e Rizzoli

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