#finira bene

[inaconstantstateofchange]

please enjoy this no-context meme from a forthcoming chapter of my astarion/the dark urge time travel story, finirà bene

[inaconstantstateofchange]

Kelis, my resisting Dark Urge Druid and entire heart.

Their personality is reserved and dry, and they have an incredibly odd moral code. They do a lot of good things for less-than-selfless reasons, and while resisting [REDACTED], they see no problem with killing or lying to people who deserve it.

As far as romance, they are together with both Astarion and Halsin.

I truly cannot overstate how many hours of each day I spend thinking about these characters. I have an Astarion POV time travel longfic in the works from this ‘verse: finirà bene, which tragically Kelis is Sir-Not-Appearing in for… so long.

Friends- Mutuals- Random people on the internet! Show me your Tavs!

I'll start with my current ones-

That lovely elf in the circlet is my Durge warlock, Thaddeus (pretentious as hells, I know). He's gorgeous and absolutely terrible. Guilty pleasure character.

The Tiefling is a bard and my Sweet and Fluffy (TM) character that I'm playing concurrently and can switch to when the Durge gets too dark. His name is Tayvis and he's romancing Karlach. He's literally just a cinnamon roll.

[sgiandubh]

Di solito non seguo le presenze occasionali di bionde o brune accanto a Sam. Nel corso degli anni sono rimasta in attesa di vedere tornare quella scintilla nei suoi occhi, lo sguardo da ragazzo/ uomo gentile dei primi anni. Caitriona ha indossato da tempo la maschera che toglie saltuariamente . Speravo che dopo le foto del funerale del padre l'era delle cazzate fosse finita. Evidentemente no. L'idiozia di queste rappresentazioni sta raggiungendo altezze irraggiungibili. Meglio sarebbe ignorare. E meglio sarebbe per entrambi leggere i post che li riguardano e che non rappresentano un pericolo per la loro vita reale. Forse pensano che tutto finira’ ma come saranno ricordati? . Per che cosa vogliono essere ricordati? Grazie per la tua ragionevolezza e sincerità.

Dear (returning) @findanserwers,

Grazie mille. Il problema che poni è importante: è così che vorrebbero essere ricordati? Spero di no. Altrimenti nemmeno Santa Rita potrebbe aiutarli. Entrambi.

Tradurrò prima il tuo contributo, poi la mia risposta.

' I usually do not follow the occasional blonde or brunette spotted next to Sam. Over time, I waited to see again that sparkle in his eyes, that boyish gentle gaze of early years. It's been a while Caitriona put on a mask, she does take off from time to time. I was hoping that after her father's funeral the fuckery era was over. It's obviously not the case. The idiocy of the show has reached unattainable heights. Better to ignore. And even better if they could read those posts that concern them and do not represent a danger for their real life. Perhaps they think it will all be over but how will they be remembered and for what? Thank you for being reasonable and honest.'

For our Anglophone friends, I answered:

'Thank you very much. The problem you are raising is important: is this how they would like to be remembered?

I hope not. Otherwise not even Saint Rita could help them. Both of them'.

Dear @findanserwers, money and fame do things to people. Compared to so many others, politicians included, they still look like dazed and confused amateurs. Yes, after all those years. Underneath that Constipated Matron and that Clueless Manwhore, those people still exist, somewhere. Sometimes, all it takes is just a walk in the park to get an unexpected glimpse of it. But we don't see them anymore. This is their rambunctious story. This is the life they have chosen to live. And these are also their perennial PR problems.

Un bacione. Pace e Bene.

[abr]

"Non c’è niente di meglio dell’occidente, ma deve riformarsi".

Banalità la prima parte - la seconda pure: che noia, lo sappiamo, tutto deve adattarsi e cambiare - così evidente e scontata che sovente viene dimenticata dai più presi dai vari ami idealisti.

L'ha detta Rémi Brague, filosofo francese, docente all'Università  Panthéon-Sorbonne di Parigi, specificando: "Il woke finirà. E l'Occidente supererà le proprie follie culturali". Bene, ci conto anch'io.

via https://www.ilfoglio.it/societa/2024/01/23/news/-il-woke-finira-e-l-occidente-superera-le-proprie-follie-culturali-parla-re-mi-brague-6128481/

[edda-grenade]

it’ll end well.

fandom: the old guard song: finirà bene band: ermal meta lyrics + translation under the cut bc outgoing links are a no-go

(i made this in an absolute stone age version of imovie and also i've never made a fanvid before so i am pretty proud of this!!! also pls read the lyrics for that extra emotional gutpunch!!)

Questo non è buio sono solo gallerie Questa pioggia unisce le tue lacrime e le mie So che pure tu senti la voglia di scappare O di ritornare Sai che soli al mondo è non è facile restare Che una rivoluzione pure in due si può iniziare Pensa a quante volte ci facciamo anche del male Ma non ti preoccupare Finirà bene Finirà bene Finirà bene Finirà bene Finirà bene Finirà bene Finirà bene So che pure tu hai dato più di quel che hai preso Che a volte non pensarci sembra l’unico rimedio Le cicatrici sono le cerniere del passato Ma non ti preoccupare Finirà bene Finirà bene Finirà bene Finirà bene E non è colpa tua Se non riesci a decidere Se restare o andar via O lasciare tutto così com’è E non è colpa mia Se ho bisogno di credere Che qualcuno ci sia Che ha bisogno di me Finirà come deve Finirà finirà Finirà come vuole Finirà come viene Finirà finirà che non dura per sempre Non ti preoccupare Finirà finirà finirà Bene Bene Bene Finirà bene Per te e pure un po' per me Finirà bene Anche se non ci vuoi credere Finirà bene Per noi che non sappiamo vincere Che non sappiamo vincere Finirà bene Per te che cresci i figli da solo Finirà bene Per te che ogni porta diventa un muro Finirà bene Lo so, ti giuro Finirà bene Finirà bene (bene) Finirà bene (bene) Ti giuro finirà bene Finirà bene (bene) Finirà bene (bene) Finirà bene (bene)

This isn’t darkness, it’s just tunnels This rain merges your tears to my own I know you too feel the need to run Or to come back You know that alone in the world it’s not easy to live That a revolution even with two can start Think of the times we hurt ourselves But don’t worry It’ll end well It’ll end well It’ll end well It’ll end well It’ll end well It’ll end well It’ll end well I know  that you too have given more than you've taken That sometimes not thinking about it seems the only cure Scars are windows to the past But don't worry It’ll end well It’ll end well It’ll end well It’ll end well And it’s no fault of yours If you can’t decide To stay or go away Or to leave everything as it is And it’s no fault of mine If I need to believe That someone is here And is in need of me It'll end as it should It'll end, it'll end It'll end as it wants to It'll end as it comes It'll end, it'll end that it won't last forever Don't worry It’ll end, it'll end, it'll end Well Well Well It’ll end well For you and also a little for me It’ll end well Even if you don’t want to believe it It’ll end well For us who don’t know how to win Who don’t know how to win It’ll end well For you who raise your children alone It’ll end well For you to whom every door turns into a wall It’ll end well I know, I swear It’ll end well It’ll end well (well) It’ll end well (well) I swear it'll end well It’ll end well (well) It’ll end well (well) It’ll end well (well)

[phoen-i-x]

se non ci penso più, mi sento b e n e  

[a-hobbit-in-isengard]

This is for all the peeps that have to suffer the geoblock :D

[sognare-tra-le-luci-di-roma]

Thank you Ermal Meta for my life

[margielabebi]

condamnés, mais libre, fuck la mayflower, je viens je suis libra, je reviens je suis cancer, la vue, pas sur ma mer, comme pop smoke, je l'ai fais, mais jne finirai, pas comme mon frère

i jus need a haircut, new trim, won't be fair, fuck a opp up, cuz they done took it too far, won't go far, cuz im ere, count up cuh, count doku, fin gon die, roll the dice, you gon die, any way, cuz what at play, could be gone in a day (play) around wit er coochie cuz im bored, i got hoe material, but they aint no whore, we jus gettin nasty, hind the door, in hindsight, take u from behind, ill be gentle, ill fuck u hard, take a look, got a hard on, put u on my hips, lets sigh, imma keep us in my mind, till the day well leave behind all the mayhem, never been like them, imma let u in im kind, we be fine, when the sun shine, submariner for the moon, just for flex, ill just heal up, then count up, put it up u *** (soon)

le temps il passe, je suis nasty, temps qui casse, que leur croûte, je te goûte, et leur gout me dégoûte, je te goûte et tu sèmeras mes gouttes, pas de pluie tu sais de quoi je parle, jai trop hâte, mais ça va

mntnt on va, va bene, joue mes cartes, pokerface je suis votr fan aussi, pas le only fan, mais le only qui le mettra dans vos fannie, chuis pas funny, mais on rie, elle a goûté moi sur riz, elle ma goûté, me regarde, quand je fini, reste en garde, je reste branché, lavez pour moi, je dois vous laver le visage après le facial, soit disant chuis pas hentai, à la chambre on finira vite, j'ai vitesse appelle moi Martial

😘hehe

[inaconstantstateofchange]

finirà bene - an Astarion/Dark Urge/Halsin time travel redux

Summary: At the very moment of the Absolute's defeat, Astarion opens his eyes to find himself amidst familiar burning wreckage, face-to-face with a Shadowheart who has no knowledge of their companion, the dragonborn Kelis. Stuck in this familiar-unfamiliar situation, Astarion will have to reforge alliances alone as he seeks to make his way out of this nightmare, and find his missing partner(s).

Pairing: endgame Astarion/Dark Urge/Halsin, with a primary in-fic focus on Astarion/Halsin (as Kelis is busy haunting the narrative).

Reposting because I'm very proud of the new banner - Kelis artwork done by @somespareserotonin-please - and because I haven't had a proper masterpost up yet.

Prologue and Chapter 1 are up on AO3, and I'll put them here for anyone who prefers to read that way. Chapter 2 is finished - 5k words! - and in the process of final editing and formatting to post here and on AO3, probably tomorrow at the latest.

I'd love to hear your thoughts, and hope you enjoy the journey as much as I do! ^^

Prologue: alone in the world

The din of battle fades out in patches, his ears ringing as the world swims before his eyes, dizzying colors erupting and obscuring the pitted surface of the nautiloid around him. Staggering to the side, he focuses on catching his balance, running his gloved hand along the gaps in his armor, looking for any puncture wounds carrying poison he didn’t notice.

Not now, not like this. The thought whispers through his mind like the frenzied beat of a drum. After everything they have battled through to reach this point, to survive it together, surely this cannot be the end, not when their true enemy is so close to defeat.

Through the spots encroaching further into his vision, and the strangely warped perspective the world around him is taking on, he casts about for Kelis, separated from him by the tide of battle for some time now.

At last, he sees them, far too close to the Brain for any comfort, near death though it is beginning to seem. Perhaps that is only wishful thinking, but — surely, surely it must be nearly defeated.

Their owlbear form seems somehow larger than he’s ever seen it, magnificent and ferocious. With a resonant shriek that builds from their chest and erupts into the air around them, they jump up toward the stormy sky above, body tilting down gracefully at the apex of their leap in preparation to bring the full force of gravity down with them on the target of their final strike — that wretched, hateful Crown.

He bares his teeth in wild, bloodsoaked joy, ready for this months-long nightmare to be over, but the world will not allow him more than this moment. As Kelis’s claws make contact with the sickening glow of the Crown’s gems, the warping that had faded into the background, holding its breath like everyone else in the battle, rushes to life with redoubled intent, now eating through not only his vision, but seemingly the world itself.

The last image he has before all is overtaken by crackling brilliance is Kelis blinking out of existence — present one moment, and gone without a single discernible trace of a spell’s effect the next.

His unbeating heart twists in his chest, nausea filling his entire body.

Not now, not like this.

“Kelis! Ke-”

His words disappear in the space between breaths, and he himself follows suit.

For a moment, an empty crown glints in the waning sunlight, before it too fractures, cracks, and splinters away.

Across a starlit sky, a burning nautiloid hurtles toward the ground, its trajectory cut short by its impact with the riverbank.

Numerous eyes track its passage, and a multitude of forces and individuals set to devising their responses to this unexpected incursion.

On a grassy outcropping, one pod is ejected at a sharp angle, its surface breaking open and its captive launched forward against the grass.

A white-haired elf lies still among the rocks and silt, unbreathing, as the sun’s rays climb over the horizon, inching closer and closer to his unresponsive form.

“-lis! Kelis?” The world filters back in in discordant jumps and starts — but something isn’t right. Blinking his unaccountably heavy eyelids open against the blinding sun, many somethings are not right.

Behind him lies the burning wreckage of an all-too-recognizable nautiloid, flames still crackling hungrily amidst the ruins.

Dumbly, he springs to his feet and spins around as quickly as the vertigo wracking his body will allow, knowing what he is searching for even as a horrible certainty grows in him that he will not find it.

To the left: the sharp drop to the Chionthar, its brilliant blue water belying the nightmare he must be inhabiting.

To the right: more wreckage, an extremely distressed boar, and — a familiar figure, albeit with a hair color he is no longer used to. His mind catches on this detail for a moment before abandoning it for more pressing matters.

“Shadowheart! What things have come to that the sight of your dour visage brings me relief, of all things. Will wonders never cease!” His voice is overly cheery, perhaps a touch manic, but no one who truly matters is around to mention it, so he’ll grant himself a temporary allowance.

“Now, is this an illusion spell of some form? Do you know of any way to break it? As patient as I would love to be, time is very much of the essence, so a bit of alacrity would be greatly appreciated!”

Alright, perhaps a slightly less temporary allowance.

Unexpectedly, the cleric’s response is to take a sharp step backward, expression growing even more wary.

“How do you know my name? We have certainly not yet been introduced, to my knowledge.” Her voice is icy and biting, without even the edge of begrudging fondness that had begun growing there in the past weeks.

His face slackens for a moment, thoughts whirring through his mind almost faster than he can note them. Something is far more awry here even than he originally considered.

As quickly as he can, he runs through what he knows of spells that could achieve an effect as encompassing as this appears to be. There are not a great many, but of course a creature as unprecedented as the Nether Brain could have access to a multitude of unknown magics.

None of his senses are telling him that anything around him is untrue or fabricated, despite his mind screaming very much the opposite. The wind coming from the water carries with it the expected smells, and the creaks and groans of organic machinery breaking down into the flames is as he remembers from his first day of freedom.

Most damningly of all — everything about Shadowheart is exactly as he recalls from their first meeting, down to the very smell of her, in his experience the most difficult sense for any illusion spell to accurately replicate.

He switches tacks as smoothly as he can, pushing as far down as it will go the part of him that wants to start screaming, and perhaps never stop.

Pasting on the smile that charmed hundreds of Baldur’s Gate’s finest to their deaths, he draws himself up into a less alarming pose, that perhaps screams an iota less ‘I am about to break down and begin stabbing every thing in sight.’

“My deepest apologies; I have had some… dealings, shall we say, with your cohort in Baldur’s Gate before, and was pleased to encounter a familiar face in an area this… desolate.” The sneer on his face as he peers around theatrically is not at all difficult to manufacture.

“I had no idea you were on one of your Lady’s more sensitive missions. Rest assured I will abide by all due secrecy in the future.”

He closes his speech – marvelously tailored under so short a time constraint, as far as he is concerned – with a hand flourish and a tip of his head, telegraphing foppish carelessness with all his might, but in truth desperate for the opportunity to hide his face away, even for a moment. The battle to keep that part of him that wants to break down – in tears or in murder, it is impossible to say – in check is becoming more difficult by the moment.

After an artful pause, he casts his eyes up through his fringe, checking for the success of his fabrication.

Shadowheart’s frown deepens visibly for a moment, discomfited by something about his statement, before the tension lines in her face smooth out and she shifts into a more neutral, although still readied, position.

“Apology accepted, although you would certainly benefit from greater discretion in the future —particularly if you intend to continue your dealings. The Mother Superior does not tolerate failure, as you must know.”

He inclines his head once more before returning upright, smile coming much more naturally now as he submerges himself in his role.

“Of course! My deepest thanks for your helpful reminder and concern for my person.”

A dismissive scoff is her only response as she turns to survey the wreckage herself.

Seeing an opportunity, he ventures a question. “I saw you on the ship, I’m fairly certain. However did you escape from those wretched pods?”

“There was someone else up there, who helped free m-,” Her answer comes without hesitation at first, only to cut off abruptly as her brow furrows.

With furious and feral hope clawing its way up his chest, he interjects as intently as he dares, “There was someone else loose up there? Who? What did they look like?!”

After a moment, he tacks on a weak justification, attempting to play off his intensity, “They must have been impressive indeed, to free you from such a fate.”

She doesn’t pay his inconsistency any mind, eyes clouded as she continues looking over the wreckage, seemingly in search of something in particular.

After another long moment, she turns away with a firm shake of her head. “No… no, there was no one. My pod broke when the ship crashed, just as yours did, I presume.”

He barely keeps himself from pressing her, biting back the words trying to escape him as he marshals the increasing urge to grab her shoulders and shake her, demanding to know if she had seen a red Dragonborn with bottomless black eyes.

At this point in his ongoing nightmare, he is becoming sickly certain that hearing her answer would be even worse than the creeping dread that is slowly overtaking him.

“Well, all’s well that ends well, I suppose!” With a false laugh and a bright grin he doesn’t feel even a fraction of, he commits to the course he’s set for himself.

Stay alive.

Don’t drive off one of your least useless comrades, in the event that this ends up not being some illusory nightmare realm.

Find a camp or similarly secluded place of respite.

Have a breakdown that will rank in at least the top ten of your very long life.

Make a plan.

Find Kelis.

[breaddo]

i listened to finirà bene before a d&d session and the entire party failed at the end and i don’t know what to make of that

[technicallycleverdetective]

Top 10 songs currently living in my head

Tagged by @verecunda. Thank you :) What an interesting game.

1. La Storia Infinita by Pinguini Tattici Nucleari, which I’ve now heard enough times to sing without lyrics.

2. Un’emozione da poco by...well, not originally, but this version is sung by Luca Marinelli. Same as above. I had a full week where it just played in a loop non-stop, although fortunately it’s settled down now.

3. Per le strade una canzone by Eros Ramazzotti feat. Luis Fonzi. Only in the last couple of days, but that’s enough.

4. Den Exo Idea by Melisses - it’s written in Greek so that may not be spelled right, and also I don’t speak Greek so it’s just tuneful sounds in my head, but it’s enjoyable :)

5. Non sono una signora by Loredana Berte. The best song ever for singing to a steering wheel.

6. Finira bene by Ermal Meta.

7. Luce (Tramonti a Nord Est) by Rancore and La rappresentante di Lista.

8. Comunque andare by Alessandra Amoroso.

9. Blinding Lights by The Weeknd

10. Arresto cardiaco by Fabrizio Moro, although mostly the music with the occasional word thrown in there.

And I tag @sociallyawkwardwriter @raisedtokeepquiet @consulting-angel-in-bag-end @enter-the-bear-circle @i-know-i-am-there @dreamers-queen if any of you are in a musical mood. If anyone else is in a musical mood, please feel free to participate and tag me too :)

[solo-stef]

Ecco, ho rebloggato il prezioso link inviatomi da @mafelofr, che in effetti @ilpianistasultetto ha spiegato senza troppi fronzoli i concetti base di questo troiaio di autonomia differenziata.

Bene, (cioe' male, molto male), a questo punto cosa possiamo fare noi? Avevo letto da qualche parte che il PD avrebbe chiesto un referendum su questo, seciondo voi sara' possibile?

Cmq mi chiedo come siamo potuti arrivare a questo punto, e lo dico da cittadina di una regione, la Toscana, che tutto sommato penso che con questo sistema potrebbe avere dei vantaggi.

in ogni caso come al solito soldi non ce ne sono quindi i famosi livelli essenziali delle prestazioni vorrei sapere con cosa li garantiscono.

Finira' come gia' ipotizzato dal Pianista, con regioni in auto super lusso che portano i figli in scuole super tecnologiche e regioni in utilitarie che portano i figli nelle scuole degli anni 50.

Autonomia differenziata spiegata in parole povere.

In Parlamento e' in discussione la legge costituzionale che istituisce autonomia regionale su molte materie, dalla scuola alla sanita', agli ordini professionali fino alla gestione di corpi militari, 23 materie in tutto. Premessa di tutto, assicurare comunque ad ogni regione, livelli essenziali di prestazione, livelli che devono essere garantiti su tutto il territorio nazionale.

Iniziamo con il dire che "essenziale" e' un aggettivo fumoso. Se chiediamo per strada, l'80% delle persone non saprebbe rispondere sul suo significato. Un sinonimo piu' comprensibile: indispensabile. Cosa serve di indispensabile per far funzionare la scuola? Banchi, lavagne e cattedre. Ecco, questo assicura lo Stato. E la sanita'? Letti, lettighe, ambulanze, gli strumenti per interventi chirurgici, per visite specialistiche, e per degenze.

Che succedera'? Le regioni svantaggiate avranno scuole con lavagne in ardesia, palestre con la spalliera e la cavallina di legno come negli anni '70 e i ragazzi scriveranno con penne e calamaio; l'essenziale, appunto. Qualche altra regione avra' lavagne luminose, proiettori a parete, aria condizionata e palestre con attrezzatura tecnologicamente avanzata e i ragazzi studieranno con Ipad e pc portatili.

In alcune regioni si faranno interventi chirurgici con il bisturi e 80 punti di sutura per una semplice appendicite e in qualche regione gli interventi verranno fatti con il laser compiuterizzato in day -hospital.

Vogliamo rendere tutto piu' semplice? Ok! Per andare al lavoro serve l'automobile. Lo Stato assicura il livello essenziale per soddisfare quel bisogno. "Ecco, almeno una bella Fiat Panda". Vedremo cittadini di alcune regione tutti a bordo di Fiat Panda e cittadini di altre regioni a bordo di Mercedes Plug-in hybrid.

Chi non capisce questo, credo capisca niente nemmeno con i disegnini.

@ilpianistasultetto

[gloriabourne]

I'm almost crying how amazing and sensitive Ermal is with his fans, in these hard times for everyone he shows his love, respect and trust. I didn’t understand why some fans attacked him, he was so sweet letting us see a little part of the most intimate side of his life and I’m proud he did it for us, 1/3

such a private person like him is so much in love that posted his partner’s photo, he sees us as his friends, like equals, sharing pure happiness of being in love and being loved, it’s so beautiful! He shows that even during pandemic when people die and lose the ones they love, one still can love, have sex, make plans, 2/3

do cool things and have hopes, life goes on and he shows us all the beauty of it. He always finds words of support and right moment to do nice things for his fans and when he says finira bene I believe him. I ship metamoro but no one sane would believe in it for real, for this we have fanfiction and I hope you’ll make us happy with new ones.3/3

----------------------------------------------------

Well, with your sentence "no one sane would believe in it for real" I think you have offended a large part of this fandom. You said that some people in this fandom (a lot of people actually) are insane. And I can't stand offenses like this one.

So I'm sorry but I'm not going to answer to this stuff.

The only thing I want you to know is that, even if I really love Ermal, I think you are put him on a pedestal. He's a human being like everyone else and the fact that he posted a picture of a girl doesn't make him amazing or sensitive.

[unavitadisguardi]

sono mesi ormai che non esco piu regolarmente da casa, piu i giorni passano e piu la mia ansia sociale aumenta. vorrei non uscire mai piu ma allo stesso tempo vorrei farlo. quando sono costretta ad uscire mi sento male, mi sento fuori luogo, giudicata, stringo i punti cosi forti che le unghie lasciano dei solchi nei palmi delle mani, se mi concentro su quel dolore non penso a quanto vorrei scappare da li. non posso parlarne con i miei perché non capirebbero, nessuno mi capisce. mi prendono in giro scherzando sul fatto che io non esca mai, che non ho una vita sociale. rido anche io perché in se fa ridere, ho 20 anni e passo le mie giornate a letto, fa sganasciare dalle risate. quando rido di questo sento l'ansia prendere il sopravvento su di me e una serie di domande iniziano a ronzarmi in testa: durerà per sempre? arriverà mai qualcuno che riuscira a tirarmi fuori da qui? riuscirò mai a sentirmi bene con me stessa?. tutti quesiti ai quali io non so dare risposta. ho provato tante volte a parlarne con qualcuno ma non ho mai avuto il pieno coraggio di farlo concretamente. piu i giorni passano piu la mia ansia cresce, mi sta mangiando dentro, la luce che si stava facendo strada da qualche mese a questa parte sta venendo di nuovo sopraffatta dal buio. il buio mi spaventa. il buio è cattivo, ho paura prenda il pieno possesso di me e mi faccia diventare qualcuno con cui non riuscirei mai a convinvere. e mi sento morire, ogni giorno vorrei solo restare a letto e vorrei che la gente si dimenticasse di me, cosi che io possa restarci per quanto voglio senza che qualcuno mi faccia domande. ma al coltempo ho paura di rimanere da sola, questa cosa, questo mostro, è troppo grande da poter manovrare da sola, non riesco a gestire questo caos, da sola non riesco, ma nessuno se ne accorge perché sono diventata una perfetta attrice a nasconderlo. alterno momenti di ira in cui vorrei solo urlare e accasciarmi in terra, a momenti in cui non provo assolutamente niente, sento il mio corpo li ma non li, e a momenti tranquilli in cui riesco a sorridere e ridere di gusto, ma purtroppo durano poco percio cerco sempre di godermeli al meglio. mi dispiace anche per la mia famiglia, non ho mai parlato con nessuno di come sto. mai. e mi urtano perche loro non capirebbero, come possono capire una cosa che nemmeno io riesco a spiegare? mi dispiace per mia sorella che ha bisogno di me ma con lei il mio corpo si rifiuta, mi cresce una rabbia immotivata e non so come gestirla, evito spesso di uscire o fare cose con lei, ma io la amo eppure il mio cervello mi dice altro. non riesco a capire. circa 3/4 mesi fa passai uno dei momenti decisamete piu brutti di tutta la mia vita, come se tutto il mio dolore accumulato in tutti questi anni avesse preso il pieno controllo su di me e mi avesse spinto a pensare a cose brutte, orribili, ma che da allora non mi hanno abbandonata. ero arrivata a scrivere una lettera a mia mamma, ovviamente non l ho mai consegnata, è ancora li nel cassetto sotto i calzini, non so cosa volevo fare con quella lettera. nel momento in cui l ho scritta avrei pensato al come lasciarmi andare, la morte mi spaventa ma in quel momento ero cosi stanca che avrei fatto di tutto per stare meglio. quei pensieri non sono molto frequenti adesso, ma ci sono, ogni tanto penso al "chissa se", poi non faccio niente. non sono buona nemmeno a morire, divertente.. qualche settimana fa mi sono riavvicinata ad una band che ha segnato la mia infanzia e metà della mia adolescenza, a loro devo tutto, mi hanno fatto riscoprire emozioni che avevo dimenticato, certo i momenti bui ci sono sempre ma loro mi stanno tenendo in pieni, assurdo vero? non li ho mai visti, non ci ho mai parlato, ma con le loro voci e la loro storia mi hanno dato la forza di essere ancora qua. però l'ansia è sempre qui con me, è peggiorata, alla grande.. se prima piangevo e non respiravo ora succede lo stesso ma con l aggiunta di graffi sul collo, unghie conficcate nella carne e dondolii isterici.. finira mai? mi sentiro mai libera? riuscirò mai ad essere io e solo io senza i miei demoni?..

[lesmotsnomades]

Cinquante ans après sa sortie, il est temps de (re)lire «Dune»

Etienne Augé — 30 juillet 2015 à 17h54

Détail de l'affiche de «Dune» de David Lynch

Le roman de Frank Herbert reste important pour comprendre notre époque.

Dune, le livre mythique de Frank Herbert, célèbre cette année ses 50 ans. L’occasion de revenir sur un roman visionnaire, qui a engendré de nombreuses adaptations et tentatives cinématographiques, des jeux, des suites plus ou moins réussies, mais surtout dont l’influence a marqué plusieurs générations de lecteurs. S’il est peut-être moins connu que d’autres univers de science fiction comme Star Wars ou Star Trek, Dune est pourtant tout aussi riche et peut-être même encore plus important pour comprendre notre époque.

Frank Herbert, créateur de mondes

Né dans l’Etat de Washington en 1920, Herbert est un libre penseur qui s’intéresse à beaucoup de choses mais assez peu à ses études. Il ne finira pas l’université et deviendra journaliste free-lance, son épouse qui travaille dans la publicité lui permettant d’avoir du temps pour réfléchir à ses projets.

Inspiré par le travail de Carl Jung sur la mythologie, mais aussi par le zen bouddhiste et les romans de science fiction de H.G. Wells, Robert Heinlein ou Jack Vance, Herbert s’inspire d’un reportage sur les dunes de l’Oregon pour commencer son grand œuvre, Dune, l’histoire d’une planète qui produit l’Epice, matière la plus précieuse de l’univers, nécessaire à la navigation interstellaire mais aussi à la transe spirituelle. Il faudra six ans à Herbert pour achever son livre, qui engendrera plusieurs suites d’abord écrites par lui, puis par son fils Brian. Dune recevra en 1966 les deux prix les plus prestigieux de la science-fiction, le Hugo et le Nebula. Ses ventes ont dépassé les 12 millions d’exemplaires, ce qui en fait le best-seller le plus vendu de la science fiction.

Une saga des étoiles

Créer des mondes est fréquent en science-fiction, mais Herbert a imaginé une cosmogonie qui n’a peut-être d’égal que, dans le genre de la fantasy, Tolkien et son Seigneur des anneaux. Dans Dune, plusieurs maisons aristocratiques, certaines remontant à la Grèce antique, se disputent l’Epice, et Herbert décrit ces querelles militaires et diplomatiques complexes en y rajoutant de nombreuses organisations aux intérêts divers comme la CHOM, Compagnie des Honnêtes Ober Marchands, désireuse de contrôler le marché de l’Epice, la Guilde spatiale, qui possède le privilège du transport interstellaire, et surtout le Bene Gesserit, un ordre religieux qui travaille depuis des générations à l’avènement du Kwisatz Haderach, le sauveur-prophète qui dirigera l’univers.

Herbert est précis dans ses descriptions mais jamais pesant. Il introduit également de nombreux personnages féminins forts, dans un genre souvent macho, et invente une science-fiction plus spirituelle qu’attachée au progrès technologique, ce qui le différencie de manière spectaculaire des poids lourds du genre comme Isaac Asimov et ouvre la voie à des auteurs comme Philip K. Dick. Frank Herbert rafraîchit la science fiction en rappelant que le plus important dans le genre reste l’imaginaire, et souligne que «science sans conscience n’est que ruine de l’âme». Il remet l’homme au centre du récit de science-fiction au détriment de la machine, qui reprend sa place accessoire.

Le meilleur film de l’univers

Un flyer pour le Dune de Jodorowsky, signé Mœbius. (Via Wikimedia Commons).

Cet aspect hautement spirituel n’a pas échappé au chilien Alejandro Jodorowsky. Réalisateur surréaliste, «Jodo» décide d’adapter Dune en 1975 alors même qu’il ne l’a jamais lu. Le récit de la production d’un film qui ne sera hélas jamais produit est relaté dans un documentaire captivant sorti en 2013, Jodorowsky's Dune. Selon le documentaire, Jodorowsky avait réuni le casting le plus impressionnant qui soit, rassemblant tous les «guerriers» dont le réalisateur iconoclaste avait besoin pour concrétiser sa vision.

L’Empereur aurait été joué par Salvador Dali, poussé à accepter le rôle par sa muse de l’époque, Amanda Lear, qui aurait incarné la fille de l’Empereur, la Princesse Irulan. Le Baron Harkonnen aurait eu les traits d’Orson Welles, charmé par la promesse d’avoir son cuisinier attitré pendant le tournage. La musique aurait été conçue par Pink Floyd et le groupe français Magma. Enfin, le storyboard aurait été dessiné par le génial dessinateur Moebius/Jean Giraud, épaulé par l’artiste suisse Giger. Une telle combinaison de talents ne pouvait que convaincre les producteurs, dont le français Michel Seydoux, enthousiasmé par le génie tourbillonnant de Jodorowsky. Malheureusement, le film ne se fera pas, les quelques millions manquants étant refusés par des studios hollywoodiens convaincus du casting «all stars», mais effrayé par la personnalité du réalisateur chilien d’El Topo ou de La Montagne sacrée.

Le documentaire s’achève sur une extraordinaire impression de gâchis devant cette ambition de réaliser un film qui aurait «surpassé même 2001: l’odyssée de l’espace». Star Wars, en 1977, donnera tort à ceux qui pensaient que la science-fiction n’était pas rentable, et le film de George Lucas emprunte nombre d’éléments au film maudit de Jodorowsky.

Dune se fait lyncher

Dune continue de fasciner en tant que projet cinématographique. Le producteur italien Dino De Laurentiis en acquiert les droits en 1976 et charge le britannique Ridley Scott de diriger le film en se basant sur un scénario écrit par Frank Herbert lui-même. Scott ne réalisera pas le film pour raisons personnelles et préférera diriger son propre film de science fiction en 1982, Blade Runner, son chef-d’œuvre, considéré par beaucoup comme le plus grand film de science-fiction avec 2001 de Kubrick, sorti en 1968.

Dune est un univers riche, et le livre regorge de trésors qui passent mal à l’écran

Dune se fera finalement sous la direction de David Lynch en 1984. Le résultat n’est pas à la hauteur des attentes des fans de Dune ou même de Lynch, mais l’atmosphère baroque et très datée eighties n’est pas le désastre que Jodorowsky a décrit dans le documentaire consacré au récit de son échec. Le chanteur Sting y joue un Harkonnen roux et arrogant, Kyle MacLachlan commence sa carrière en campant un Paul Atréides convaincant et on trouve même Patrick Stewart en Gurney Halleck, alors même que l’homme de théâtre britannique commence à se faire connaître du grand public par son personnage de Jean-Luc Picard dans Star Trek: The Next Generation. L’acteur suédois Max von Sydow est le seul véritable poids lourd de cette production, bien qu’il joue le rôle secondaire du planétologiste impérial Liet Kynes.

Le groupe Toto fournit une bande originale honnête, les décors et les costumes sont audacieux mais la critique ne suit pas, tout comme le public. Le Dune de Lynch est un échec et le réalisateur américain ne dirigera pas ses nombreuses suites prévues initialement. Dune est un univers riche, et le livre regorge de trésors qui passent mal à l’écran.

Revoir le Jihad

Si on peut faire l’économie de revoir le Dune de Lynch, il est passionnant de relire Dune en 2015. L’histoire d’hommes du désert qui partent à la conquête de l’univers au nom du Jihad possède une connotation différente de nos jours par rapport à l’époque où Frank Herbert a décrit leur expansion depuis leur planète d’origine. Herbert utilise de nombreux mots empruntés à l’arabe et l’on devine sans peine qu’il s’est inspiré de plusieurs pays moyen-orientaux et des touaregs pour imaginer ses «fremens», les hommes des sables conquérants de l’univers sous la houlette de leur messie.

A l’heure où parler de djihad fait peur, alors que l’Etat islamique menace la civilisation, la fable de Herbert apparaît comme prophétique ou blasphématoire. Il faut surtout se concentrer sur la formidable analyse de la religion que Herbert fournit, notamment avec la Missionaria Protectiva, le bras armé du Bene Gesserit, chargé d’implanter des superstitions qui se transformeront en prophéties autoréalisatrices. Herbert démontre comment la religion peut être exploitée à des fins politiques, et son propos n’est une fois encore pas de prôner la domination des «peuples du désert» sur le reste de l’univers, mais bien d’avertir des dangers de se laisser aller sans aller de l’avant.

La science-fiction possède cette capacité de faire réfléchir en avertissant des dangers qui menacent notre monde à court et long terme. Les Fremens triomphent et dominent l’univers, non pas parce qu’ils sont menés par un messie, mais parce qu’ils rejettent toute facilité liée à un monde pseudo-moderne. Ce sont les barbares, au sens grec du terme, réjuvénant la civilisation, devenue trop molle en restant sur ses acquis et où les relations dominant-dominé sont acceptées depuis des siècles comme des conventions inaltérables.

La fin programmée des machines pensantes?

Frank Herbert évoque également dans Dune un «Jihad Butlérien» qui a anéanti les machines pensantes. Les commandements de la Bible Catholique Orange, religion dominante de Dune, indiquent clairement que «Tu ne feras point de machine à l’esprit de l’Homme semblable», et les tâches réservées aux ordinateurs de nos jours sont effectuées par des humains spécialement choisis et entraînés afin de devenir des «mentats». On n’apprend véritablement les raisons du Jihad Butlérien que dans les livres publiés par le fils de Frank Herbert, Brian: l’assassinat de Manion Butler par le robot pensant Erasme, qui conduit à la rébellion des humains réduits jusque-là en esclavage.

Frank Herbert a repris un thème cher à la science fiction, où les machines dépassent l’homme et deviennent son adversaire, que ce soit dans Colossus: The Forbin Project, WarGames, Terminator ou Matrix. On peut également émettre l’hypothèse qu’un homme comme Herbert, sensible à l’écologie et à la place de l’homme dans l’environnement, se soit méfié de machines qui éloigneraient l’humanité de sa nature. Herbert rejoint ainsi de nombreux experts actuels, comme Elon Musk ou Stephen Hawkins, qui estiment que l’intelligence artificielle est une menace pour l’humanité.

Selon Ashlee Vance, biographe d’Elon Musk, le génial entrepreneur, que l’on compare souvent au fictionnel Tony Stark, était un fervent lecteur de science fiction, y compris Dune. Musk développe aujourd’hui toute une série de projets extrêmement audacieux, de la colonisation de Mars aux voitures électriques en passant par les lanceurs spatiaux et les trains à très haute vitesse. Pourtant, le milliardaire se méfie des machines pensantes et a récemment donné 7 millions de dollars à 37 équipes de recherches afin de parer aux dangers potentiels de l’intelligence artificielle. Elon Musk n’est qu’un des nombreux lecteurs des œuvres de Frank Herbert, mais il prouve avec brio que la science-fiction est un genre qui peut sauver le monde. Ou tout du moins, contribuer à le remettre en question et à le transformer.

Dune mérite un film à sa hauteur, qui le placerait dans les étoiles, au même niveau que Star Wars, Blade Runner ou 2001. En regardant Jodorowsky’s Dune, on se prend à espérer que cette version reprendra vie un jour. Nicholas Winding Refn, présent dans le documentaire, consacre en ce moment un documentaire à Jodorowsky, qui lui aurait expliqué en détail son projet pour l’adaptation au cinéma de Dune. Peut-être, devant l’enthousiasme débordant de Refn, Dune sera porté à l’écran dans le futur par le génial réalisateur danois? Et pourquoi pas produit par Elon Musk? Lui saura trouver les millions manquants pour permettra l'aboutissement du «plus grand film jamais réalisé».