#la follia d'amore
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La Follia d'Amore...
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La Follia D'Amore
GAME OVER
SORBET HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY
TIME FOR THE PUNISHMENT!
YOU TOO, GELATO!
Out of all the things I've stumbled upon...
Why does this have to come today?
I wanted to go exploring around the neighborhood since we just moved here (not like the natives know; records are too easily forged). So after having my sister give me the OK, I decided to first check out the studio complex a few ways down from our apartment building. I see it on the way to school, and it's always stark black and empty. So with little Arles Zorro tucked into my chest for her own safety, I snuck inside. I used to sneak to avoid detection to keep up the exciting atmosphere.
Now I'm sneaking around for my fucking life.
About 20 minutes after walking into the basement, some others had also walked in here. I'm on the south-east side of the room where they were, hiding under the sofa (it's a surprisingly loose squeeze). The first one... was what I can only call a madman. Long and lanky figure, wild green hair, but I couldn't discern what he was wearing. This one stood the tallest. Next to/behind him was this, uh... I don't know what to describe it. It looks to be in a full bodysuit, but that's all. I can't see shit in this light that it was flashing from the tape recorder. Between that and the way these two faced the others, they might be recording a snuff film. And as for the content...?
It was torture, plain and simple. Two other men were thrown here, in complete darkness, bound up like shrimps. They seemed to have been doing SOMETHING wrong to have warranted this. But I've never seen them before, so I can't vouch for them. Two men, tied like little shrimps at the market, blonde and blue, faces blown into fear and despair. Hoho... I can sense how despairing they truly are. Hahaha... Once I caught sight of the other two, the captors, they might have said something. All I can make out was one of them calling the other "my love". Must've been from the shrimp schlubs. And then I think one of them exclaimed that the torturer lied to them, or something I can't remember, then one of them got pulled away to the table further in... An empty glass, reflecting this blunt truth. It's telling what's not to be told... They need that mask.
In hindsight, I really should have told Nero what I saw that day. Would it even matter if I did? He wouldn't care. As would I. I might have acted overt with what I saw that night. Nero-chan, I'm sorry, but I didn't think I had to. To die on the battlefield in that empty life is just hell. But it wouldn't make a difference. We all still die in the end. All for nothing. But back to the past at hand.
The madman held up a razor sharp butcher's cleaver looking thing. Then he called something out of his shadow, and injected one of them with something. He jolted upwards, yet flopped downward just as quickly on the table he could not escape from. The little thing holding the tape recorder didn't move from it's spot. Well THAT makes sense. It would be hard to record a snuff film if you're unstill.
And then he started slicing. Oh my!
From the feet up, he worked the blade onto that guy. *sshink!* That's gotta hurt. It's super, super sharp. Again he went, cutting into the guy bound, gagged, and strapped to table, making intensely small pieces as he went cleaving, producing very clean cuts, almost as if he'd done this before several times. A veritable dance of iron he (the victim) somehow didn't die from. And he was acting so calm as he hacked away, too. The victim was emanating blood-curdling screams, howls of fear and despair. I'll never forget the expression and face he made, seemingly constantly warped in fear, tears flooding down his face.
Despair... Were they mafioso? You can only get despair this potent from those punks. I know this, because outside Morioh at least, there's this yakuza, and they spread despair like this... One of my old teachers was a former member of the yakuza. I can tell from his chopped off pinkie finger on one hand. Isn't the mafia the Italian yakuza? Anyway... How could I have sensed the despair radiating from the room? Emotions aren't my strong suit, much less understanding how someone feels when I can't get a good look at his or her face. I only looked at him once, the image is yet still burned into my mind.
What's keeping that schlub alive? Is there even such a thing as something that can keep him alive through that? I pulled Arles Zorro closer to my chest, fearing slightly that whatever noise from her would send us to the chopping block. She's unusually fine with this now... Ever since we got her about a day before leaving Morioh, she hated being touched like this. Uh, actually, maybe it's just because it was Ane touching her like that. Keeping us alive... They seem very strong. Both the madman, and the pair. Strong... Hey, maybe I ought to check them out after this. When the Iron Waltz is done, I'll take my leave and go.
At this point, he was up to... the midsection, I believe. He didn't relent with this torture. Death by a thousand cuts seems to be a nasty way to go out, and whatever he put into him, he's still alive. Bound up extremely tightly like a fish, gagged so he won't scream, and hacked away by a mad doctor type while remaining alive under the knife... What a way to go out. Hey, what happened to the other one? Where's he? Found him.
He stopped crying, only temporarily. He was trembling in his spot. He squirmed away from the scene of the crime. And then he flopped down limply at last, his gag had been sucked in so far down his throat, it looked a bit suggestive. Most likely, he either suffocated from his crying, or he killed himself. At the time, and even in hindsight now, it was hard to tell. It wasn't that hard to do whichever one, either way. "...?!" I squeaked out once his corpse fell closer to me. Smells of cheap cologne, ugh...
"Eh?!" Shit. I think the camera freak saw me. One wrong move, and you're next on the chopping block. Hehehe...
The mad doctor, for his part, stopped what he was doing, and picked up the blonde's corpse by the collar. But only for a moment, and he dropped him once he saw that face. The face of one who wanted only to experience sweet death after all that happened. "How tragic," was what I read from his lips. If you're making a snuff film, it makes sense not to speak, unless it would amplify the experience. You don't want to muffle the cries of the damned, the ones crying for love in hell.
And now it was time to hack away again. Wither wither wither wither wither wither wither wither wither wither. Melt away into nothing. The cold steel is the reckoning for all. Drown in despair. The despair that your partner had killed himself because of this mess. The despair that you can't see him because you're still alive. The despair that whatever the fuck got you punished like this was preventable.
Hacked away, hacked away, careful cuts producing thin pieces. What'll you do with the pieces once you're done? There's the smell of a noxious chemical of sorts from the far east of the room. Ugh, I can only wait to see the end results.
From the midsection upward, he attempted to accept his inevitable fate, but all it did was force him to utter a deafening screech. The screams of bloody murder. A face still drained of all hope, growing deeper yet deeper into the bowels of despair. The shine in his eyes slowly faded as he went upwards, with the desire for death slowly slipping out of his reach, out of his sliced off arms-reach. Slicy slicy slice. Almost up to the neck now!
I couldn't do anything but watch it. Watching the bladework gave me an odd feeling. Something most unusual creeped up from behind. I feel... hotter. My gut is tingling, and I'm a bit sweaty from this, to have to hide like this under a conveniently placed couch. Arle doesn't budge, which I'm even now still grateful for. I haven't felt anything like this in a long while. Even before we came to Italy. Is this fear? ...Or excitement? But what is there to be excited about, within the context of a torture scene? Perhaps I'm just afraid, afraid that this fate will befall me, afraid of the sight itself, afraid that I can't name this feeling washing over me. *shoink!*
He finally got to the throat, silencing the victim once and for all, sectioned currently into 30 parts. Unable to speak, and perhaps even breathe, his face flopped to the side limply, every feeble attempt at fear slowing down to be softer. But the face contortion is the same, one of pure despair.
Wonder what I'll tell to big sis after this? I thought. That I walked in on a modern day lingchi? It's reaching the climax, anyhow.
At last, the victim was complete. Chopped neatly into 39 parts, perfectly split and preserving the feelings of that of true terror. These two men had folded up the table after arranging his bits so that they wouldn't get squished weirdly, then picked up the thing that gave off the chemical stench, and went upstairs to leave. The other's corpse stood alone. This was the end. I had to know what caused this. That was the end of any chance of a peaceful life... But actually, I think the end of that was when Ane met that guy about 4 years ago back in Japan. Despair... If the despair bringers like them can be that strong, I think I'll join them. Yeah. I don't want Ane to end up this way.
______________________________________________________________
I'm stunned, I'm absolutely stunned. That even now, the vivid memory sticks out to me, two years after I walked in on that hellhole. I couldn't confess of this to anyone. Nero, or anyone else in La Squadra, not even Doppio... Suddenly, I'm reverted back to the sofa, some craptastic movie blaring on the TV, Aceto himself was sprawled on my lap. I need to get some air...
"I oughta go-" I hastily said, pushing him off of me. I'm absolutely spent, and I haven't even done anything. So I just blankly stared outside the open window.
"Paulla?" Was all he could say. That's all I could've got out of him, I zoned out for the rest of it.
These crystal clear memories... What good does it do for me?
#wisp rambles#wisp writes#la follia d'amore#that's italian for 'the folly/madness of love'#it's the name of the battle theme of unmasked hyness#tense flow what's that?#if it sounds overdramatic at times. then i've done my job#the final nail in the coffin for BJ's emotional issues was watching the lingchi and suicide#first it was seeing Kira's death. then this#she actually had a huge issue with emotional expressions in general#but this just soured it to the point where she claims that she couldn't feel#this scene is everything#how did I get so attached to it. anyhow?#such a vivid portrait of cruelty. despair running mad#ohhh I could watch it alllllllll dayyyyyy!#jojo's bizarre adventure#queue in wonderland#paulla izza/billie jean ojiro#arles zorro/smooth criminal#dolcio cioccolata#secco rottario#sorbet#gelato#sorbet and gelato#original character#jjba oc#vento aureo
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#dimmi la verità#dimmi#pazzia#pazza#sono pazza#pazzo#follia#folle#amore#crederci#credere#frasi#frasi belle#frasi d'amore#ti amo#amore a distanza#love#i love you#frasi tristi#innamorata#citazione#citazioni#amore vero#amore mio#distanza#relazione a distanza#lontananza#lontani#lontano#amore lontano
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La Follia d'amore from Kirby Star Allies OST my beloved
#i love that boss theme#and the fact that the name of this theme translates to (i think) “The Madness of Love” is absolutely amazing#i love when kirby boss themes have titles like “La Follia d'amore” or “Sullied Grace” or “Vagrant Counting Song of Retrospection”#kirby star allies
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~ All'amore ~
Già intriso d'autunno
mi rassomigli.
Presagio di distacchi
e di voli cadenti.
Come foglia figlia di ramo
come sogno d'amore estivo
obbediente al ciclo naturale delle cose
mi preparo a prender da te commiato.
Il vento imperterrito continua il suo scuotermi
nella sua eternità indifferente
a qualsiasi stagione, a qualsiasi obiezione.
Se avrò la forza, o abbastanza follia,
lascerò che mi trascini ancora
poiché, se c'è una cosa che mi hai insegnato,
è che nulla si vive invano.
@conilsolenegliocchi 🐞
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[ Ora non posso più usarti come una rosa nelle mie poesie d'amore: sei troppo grande, troppo bella e troppo, troppo te stessa.]
Tu sei il mio amore e la mia disperazione.
Tu sei la mia follia e la mia saggezza.
E sei tutti i luoghi in cui non sono stato
e che mi chiamano da tutti gli angoli del mondo.
Tu sei queste sei righe
cui devo limitarmi per non gridare
Henrik Nordbrandt, da Ode alla piovra e altre poesie d'amore
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Voglio essere quell'uomo, quello che sogni di avere, quello che ti riempie di tenerezza, di carezze, quello che riempie di colore ogni giorno della tua vita, quello che ti offre amicizia, rispetto e affetto..Voglio essere l'uomo dei tuoi sogni, quello che ti parla d'amore, quello che riempie i tuoi occhi di felicità, quello che distrugge tutte le tue paure e le tue tempeste..Voglio essere quell'uomo, quello che ti bacia con tenerezza, con passione, che ti riempie di piacere con la sua follia e le sue preoccupazioni..Voglio essere l'uomo che conosce ogni parte del tuo corpo, che ti accarezza senza paura, che ti bacia senza fine..Voglio essere il tuo uomo, colui che si dona completamente al tuo amore, al tuo corpo, alla tua pelle, che ti fa rabbrividire quando senti il suo nome..Voglio essere quell'uomo, che ti recita poesie d'amore e sussurri, che ti porta ogni notte alla follia e ti fa sentire donna..♠️
(Autore Gioele Nigh )
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AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA
LA FOLLIA D'AMORE AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA THIS SONG JHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAHHA I GO [scream for the cream] EVERY TIME OHOHOHOHOHO AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHHHAHHHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHWASH ASASHAHAHAHAHAH
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(Credo che quando hai dato tanto - leggi pure 'hai amato incondizionatamente, dando tutta te stessa a una persona' - e hai avuto tanto - sì sì, li vedo i vostri sorrisetti mentre scuotete la testa compatendomi per la mia... ingenua convinzione. Ma che ci crediate o no, lui mi ha davvero dato tanto, amandomi in quel modo tutto suo, forse un po'... impacciato. Classico di tutti quelli che preferiscono indossare pesanti armature, che costruiscono inespugnabili, o presunte tali, fortezze attorno ai loro cuori - credo, dicevo, sia impossibile, alla fine di una storia, riuscire ad amare di nuovo, con tutto l'ardore e la passione che l'altro meriterebbe.
È impossibile aprirsi, ancora.
Rischiare, ancora.
Non riesci più a lasciarti andare, a fidarti, in un certo qual modo.
Così ti chiudi, ti allontani, eviti.
Perché di soffrire non ne puoi più.
Ma soprattutto perché già sai che non potrai mai più rivivere, con nessun altro, quelle sensazioni. Quel brivido. La frenesia e l'eccitazione. La follia.
Sai che non sarebbe giusto per nessuno dei due.
Che sarebbe un inganno.
E allora 'scappi'.
Ti rifugi nella tua solitudine, nel tuo nido.
Chissà.
Forse abbiamo a disposizione nella vita una 'quantità' d'amore che si va consumando col tempo. E che il dolore divora più velocemente che mai.
Barbara)
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6. Ancient
I asked the council if Hyness is an ancient and most people answered "maybe". Good enough! I messed around with the kirby's adventure drum samples and the deltarune blown bottles
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L'amore è follia. Una follia generativa, non esistono storie d'amore negative, sono tutte benefiche, anche quelle che finiscono malissimo. Perché il tuo io non è più quello di prima. Non serve suicidarsi, basta essere curiosi. Curiosi di noi stessi, di sapere chi siamo diventati. Ci penserà la vita a riorganizzarsi.
Umberto Galimberti
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Mi piacciono le cose veraci, un po’ aspre, dirette, senza orpelli.
Credo sia la naturale attrazione per l'opposto alla parte in me che sa di miele.
Come ai capelli dopo la piega: io preferisco quelli che san di sale dopo un bagno al mare.
Mi piacciono le parole scelte con attenzione, non di quelle che compri al centro commerciale; ma nelle bancarelle, di quel mercatino, in quel piccolo paese dove le cose son tipiche e vi abitano anziane signore a tener vivo il tempo in cui esisteva la noia.
Delle poesie con le frasi che devi rileggere per ritrovare tra i silenzi le sensazioni taciute, ma eccome se provate.
È per questo che alle vedute morbide nei quadri, ho sempre preferito i ritratti umani tra rughe e spigoli, a cercar l'anima.
Ai versi d'amore, quelli di dolore.
Perché quando si è innamorati è facile dire dell'incanto.
E invece ci si dovrebbe cercare nei giorni di follia, in quelli di smarrimento, nell'ordinario, tra le scadenze, gli sbagli.
Non amarmi gli occhi che con quelli son bravi tutti.
Amami i polpacci, la nuca, lo spazio tra il naso e le labbra, il mignolo della mano destra il martedì mattina.
E nelle torte non mettetelo più lo zucchero a velo, ve ne prego.
Io voglio vedere l'onestà.
Di quel che mangio, di quel che tu provi, di chi io amo.
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Under My Control La Follia D'amore
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Initial Touhou song recs here
Initial Kirby song recs here
Additional songs below
Touhou: Hartmann's Youkai Girl; Heian Alien, Idolatrize World; Maiden's Capriccio; Necrofantasia; Tonight's Stars an Easygoing Egoist; Shoutoku Legend ~ True Administrator; Last Occultism ~ Esotericist of the Present World; Mary, the Magician; The Maid and the Pocket Watch of Blood; Border of Life; Solar Sect Of Mystic Wisdom ~ Nuclear Fusion
Kirby: Masked Dedede; Title theme (Kirby's Return To Dreamland; Morpho Knight; Passion of the Trident-Wielding Priestesses; The World to Win; Galacta Knight 2; King Dedede (Kirby and the Rainbow Curse); La Follia D'amore; Butter Building; Moonlight Capitial; Distant Traveller; Battleship Halberd (On Deck)
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Neve al Sole
youtube
...
Amo, la tua follia
Io amo
Farmi portare dal mare come una danza
Amo
La mia e la tua magia
Io amo
Sentirti ancora
Sentirti ancora mia
Perché, io senza di te
Sono neve al sole
Sono neve al sole
Oh signore, quante cose si fanno ancora per amore
Oh signore, fa' che io ritrovi lei
...
Io senza di te
Sono neve al sole
Sono neve al sole
Perché, io senza di te
Mi lascio cadere
Mi lascio cadere
Oh signore, quante cose si fanno ancora per amore
Oh signore, fa' che io ritrovi lei
Perché è colpa del vento
Che soffia sull'anima
E quest'anima che ha bisogno d'amore
E l'amore che fa della terra un cielo
E questa vita che ti fa sentire
Come un gelato all'equatore
Come un gelato all'equatore
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"Affreschi d'amore"
Di te conosco la rugiada
che l'anima confessa.
Parlo alle tue vene
perchè possa il tempo
chiamarmi a gocciolare
brividi.
Credo di esistere
attorno alla tua schiuma,
nell'eco di un disordine
che affonda sulla pelle.
Il piacere che porta
il tuo orizzonte nel mio,
supera gli eroismi
di una follia.
Respirando il fulmine
dei tuoi occhi,
nutro il sangue
di giovani affeschi d'amore.
(Michela Zanarella)
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