#storie familiari

[affascinailtuocuore]

M. Palminteri-COME L’ARANCIO AMARO. Carlotta e la verità, tutta la verità nient’altro che la verità.

Carlotta Calangioso, 36 anni, direttrice scrupolosa dell’ Archivio Notarile di Agrigento, vuole scoprire la verità, tutta la verità, nient’altro che la verità sulla sua storia familiare. La miccia viene innescata da un vecchio documento notarile che le capita tra le mani, riguardante l’accusa della nonna paterna Donna Rosetta  alla madre Nardina di non aver partorito Carlotta, ma di averla…

[pier-carlo-universe]

Una nuova vita di Valentina Cebeni: l'epopea della famiglia Fontamara. La saga dei Fontamara, tra amore, segreti e lotte per il riscatto, in una nuova emozionante opera di Valentina Cebeni. Recensione di Alessandria today

Valentina Cebeni, nota autrice di romanzi storici ed emozionali, torna con Una nuova vita, il primo volume di una saga familiare intensa e coinvolgente: la saga dei Fontamara.

Valentina Cebeni, nota autrice di romanzi storici ed emozionali, torna con Una nuova vita, il primo volume di una saga familiare intensa e coinvolgente: la saga dei Fontamara. Ambientato in Italia durante gli anni tumultuosi del primo Novecento, il romanzo intreccia le vite di donne coraggiose che affrontano le sfide della vita, lottando per l’indipendenza, l’amore e la sopravvivenza in una…

[gregor-samsung]

" C'è un momento nella storia di ogni famiglia in cui si appare felici a se stessi. Magari non lo si è affatto. Ma lo si porta scritto in faccia: io, famiglia da poco composta, sono nella mia pienezza e necessità, sono il cibo per l'occhio altrui, sono la carne terrena che imita la carne divina, sono la Famiglia nella sua beatitudine terrena. La si lascia stampata nelle fotografie questa felicità, sprizza dagli occhi, dai vestiti, dall'unità interna, da quel chiedersi, cercarsi, spingersi, annusarsi che abbiamo in comune con gli animali. Dopo, non si sa come, tutto si rompe, prende a sfaldarsi. La rosa ha dato il meglio di sè, ora perde i petali a uno a uno e assomiglia più a un dente cariato che a un fiore. L'odore è l'ultima cosa che se ne va; quel leggero sentore di carni addormentate, di fiati teneri e giovanissimi, quel profumo di necessità che costituisce la perfezione della famiglia nel suo nascere. È orribile trovarsi adulti, ormai usciti da quel paradiso dei sensi e degli odori, e capire di avere conservato quella felicità solo in qualche fotografia. Un singulto nel ritrovare nelle narici quegli odori di letti materni e sapere che sono persi per sempre. "

Dacia Maraini, Bagheria, (collana La scala), Milano, Rizzoli, 1993¹; pp. 101-102.

[wellesleybooks]

"For all the eons it may take to read it, this colossus of a book will own you" Kirkus Reviews on Familiaris by David Wroblewski

See the full review here.

So many of us loved The Story of Edgar Sawtelle and are thrilled to be diving back into the world David Wroblewski created.

[spettriedemoni]

Ho rifatto la pizza qualche giorno fa. La cosa nuova da segnalare è che l’ho lasciata in frigo a lievitare per circa 24 ore e l’ho impastata con acqua fredda.

Tutto ciò con il lievito di birra scaduto dal 25 maggio.

Finora pare non sia morto nessuno di dolori che l’ha mangiata per cui posso ritenermi soddisfatto.

[empito]

La mia mente è talmente affollata di pensieri che le lacrime premono per uscire. Ogni idea, ogni ricordo, ogni emozione si accavalla come onde in tempesta, sommergendo la quiete che tanto desidero. Il cuore batte irregolare, come un tamburo impazzito, mentre cerco invano un rifugio in cui nascondermi da questo turbine interiore. Il cielo sopra di me è grigio e pesante, rispecchia fedelmente il caos che ho dentro. Cammino senza meta per le strade familiari, ma oggi tutto appare diverso, distante. Gli alberi spogli tendono i loro rami scheletrici verso un orizzonte sfocato, e il vento freddo mi sferza il viso, portando con sé sussurri di memorie lontane. Vorrei poter fermare il tempo, trovare un angolo di silenzio dove poter ascoltare il battito dei miei pensieri, decifrarli, comprenderli. Ma essi si rincorrono, si sovrappongono, creando un groviglio inestricabile che mi opprime il petto. Ogni respiro è un atto di volontà, ogni passo un'impresa. Gli occhi mi bruciano, sento il peso delle parole non dette, dei sentimenti inespressi. Mi chiedo se sia normale sentirsi così persi, così sopraffatti dalla propria mente. Forse tutti indossano maschere, celando dietro sorrisi di circostanza il proprio tumulto interiore. Eppure, in questo momento, mi sento terribilmente solo. Un gatto nero attraversa la strada, mi fissa per un istante con occhi magnetici, poi scompare tra le ombre. Vorrei avere la sua leggerezza, la sua indifferenza. Invece, ogni dettaglio intorno a me sembra amplificare il mio stato d'animo. Il rumore del traffico è un ronzio lontano, le voci delle persone sono ovattate, come se fossi immerso in una bolla di vetro. Mi fermo davanti alla vetrina di una libreria. I titoli dei libri scorrono come flash davanti ai miei occhi: storie di vite vissute, di mondi immaginari, di speranze e dolori. Penso al potere delle parole, a come possano curare o ferire, e mi domando se scrivere potrebbe aiutarmi a dare un senso a ciò che provo. Decido di entrare. L'odore della carta stampata mi avvolge, familiare e rassicurante. Sfioro le copertine con delicatezza, come fossero oggetti fragili. In quel piccolo universo fatto di silenzi condivisi, sento finalmente un po' di pace. Forse, penso, non sono le lacrime la soluzione, ma la ricerca di qualcosa che dia voce al tumulto che ho dentro. Esco con un libro tra le mani e un lieve sorriso sulle labbra. Il cielo sembra essersi schiarito, un timido raggio di sole fa capolino tra le nuvole. Forse non posso fermare i pensieri, ma posso scegliere come affrontarli. E in quel momento, capisco che ogni tempesta, per quanto intensa, è destinata a placarsi.

Empito

[kryptonian-in-winterfell]

In Osamu Dazai’s short story ‘Canis familiaris’, he talks about how much he hates dogs. Despite this, a small puppy follows him home one day and his wife insists they keep it.

That puppy becomes a dog, which Dazai describes as short and ugly on many occasions. The dog has aggressive tendencies, often getting into fights with dogs twice its size.

And I just… couldn’t get through the story without thinking about 15 year old Soukoku.

If you’re looking for new dog insults for Dazai and Chuuya, I suggest reading this story. It’s very enlightening.

[splatcat64]

OK back with now some specific, isolated skag facts about Tusk's skags!! They were both found locked in a cage behind a skag on a stick stand as pups/juveniles, and had essentially been trapped there most of their life. Tusk, naturally, stole them [cage and all], and ran. Skewer, who was a little older, was a juvenile at the time. She was missing a leg [chopped off]m and is a Howler skag! [A fan-skag species made by @doglintime for Tusk, ty bestie!] Here's some art of them real quick before the super yap.

Jackwes was younger, only a pup, and a normal skag at the time Tusk got them. Both of them have their own respective personalities, and animals they're based off of, but both of them started out as wild. undomestic skags. [To my knowledge, both were taken from their families in the wild] And you may be asking, Splat, why does this matter? Wouldn't Tusk just be able to tame them as wild skags? And the answer is yes, however, it would be a lot harder to do so, with a lot more complications. Which leads into this, that I believe that many, tiny subsets and subspecies of skag exist, and in this specific case, Jackwes and Skewer evolved their own sort of domesitcation under Tusk's care. All of because of environmental pressure. Side note, these are the animals both Skewer [Spotted Hyena + Camel/Horse + Monitor lizards] and Jackwes [Striped Hyenas + Three banded armadillos + Elephants/Bloodhounds]. But Splat! The pressure to evolve wouldn't be too bad, right? WRONG! Sort of, at least. While Tusk, nor anyone else in tftbl put any pressure under the skags in that manner, everyone in the story still are running from Vallory's gang. The skags have to live in an environment with strictly humans [and robots], while on the run. While it's a different type of pressure from the wilds of Pandora, it's still a subtle one. And, since it's still pandora, it isn't exactly the same as domestication here. [They're still gonna eat other skags, etc, etc.] Skewer, I theorize would evolve in a more subtle way, but quicker than Jackwes. She is older, has more pressure on her to change and adapt. All the most common signs of domestication would develop, heightened intelligence, etc etc. Her species is normally territorial, and more solitary than normal skags. [Funfact, the females of her species also grow antlers/horns and all of them can make piercing screams.] It made her training, in the beginning a lot, LOT harder, but she ended up being extremely loyal, just as much so as Jackwes. Near the end of her juvenile she's large enough to be ridden by everyone but Rhys and Tusk [who are both too heavy/tall at that time]. But still retaining her species as compared to the skag riders in the general knoxx dlc and lynchwood. The technical progression would look like this, let's use just a stand in scientific name for Howler skags Skag ululatus -> Skag uluatus familiaris. Not much changes other than the fact Skewer is now a domestic version of a Howler skag. Jackwes, on the other hand, is just a normal skag. The kind you see running around as adults all the time. On top of that, his growth is stunted, and he's about half a head/a head shorter than a normal skag during most of his development. He's often too fast to be hit, and can rely on Tusk, Skewer, or anyone else to protect him. He doesn't need to change, and doesn't. At least to start out. Jackwes, as a normal skag would be used to a large pack dynamic. No problem, seeing as he's in a van with a bunch of other people all the time. But there are times were it's just the three of them. Tusk gets sick, Skewer can get hurt despite her size, and slowly over time, boom, pressure. Jackwes, for a while, would just adapt like this. Skag cunicidae -> Skag cunicidae familiaris. But I thought it would be cool if he went on to evolve to something that wasn't really found in the wild. And while it could happen, it's more a specific product of him being raised around humans and a different skag species. Skewer for the most part has a lot of physical differences compared to a normal skag. Antlers, a longer, more muscular neck, sensitive hearing, worsened eyesight and a terrible sense of smell.

Jackwes, on the other hand, barely has any differences, other than his smaller size. And that gave me an idea, what if he filled in that kind of pack role? A tracker skag, [hence the previous elephant and bloodhound base, which I am SO sure does not make sense other than in this context, just for their olfactory senses.] He could fill in for what Skewer absolutely can't, and that would make his full "evolutionary line" Skag cunicidae -> Skag cunicidae familiaris -> Skag vestidae familiaris. "These Skags have shown subtle, yet significant changes upon living and pack bonding with six humans."

[angelap3]

La struggente storia d’amore tra Liam Neeson e Natasha Richardson

Quella tra Liam Neeson e Natasha Richardson è una delle storie d’amore più commoventi e tragiche di Hollywood. Due artisti straordinari, uniti da un sentimento profondo e autentico, vissuto lontano dai riflettori e segnato da una perdita incolmabile.

Natasha Richardson, amatissima dal pubblico per il suo ruolo nel film Genitori in trappola (1998), era figlia del celebre regista britannico Tony Richardson, vincitore dell’Oscar per Tom Jones (1963) e autore di capolavori come La solitudine del maratoneta (1962) e Guardando indietro con rabbia (1959).

Natasha e Liam si incontrarono sul set del film Nell (1994), diretto da Michael Apted, e tra loro fu amore a prima vista. Si sposarono pochi mesi dopo, il 3 luglio dello stesso anno, e insieme ebbero due figli: Michael e Daniel. Scelsero di vivere lontano dalla mondanità, trasferendosi a Millbrook, nello Stato di New York, per offrire ai loro bambini un’infanzia serena, lontana dalla frenesia di Hollywood. Nonostante i successi, la famiglia rimase sempre al centro delle loro vite.

Ma il destino fu crudele. Il 16 marzo 2009, durante una lezione di sci su una pista per principianti in Canada, Natasha cadde e batté la testa. All’inizio sembrava nulla di grave: si rialzò, sorrise, rifiutò i soccorsi. Ma nel giro di un’ora, iniziò a sentirsi male.

Un portavoce del centro sciistico raccontò:

"Stava facendo lezione su una pista per principianti. Era con l’istruttore, che chiamò subito i soccorsi. Non mostrava segni evidenti di trauma, ma fu comunque immobilizzata per precauzione. Un’ora dopo, le sue condizioni peggiorarono improvvisamente."

Liam Neeson, che si trovava a Toronto, volò immediatamente da lei. Decise di portarla in aereo privato a New York, all’ospedale Lennox Hill, per permettere ai loro figli e ai familiari di salutarla un’ultima volta. I medici non lasciarono speranze: Natasha era in morte cerebrale.

In un’intervista rilasciata nel 2014 al programma 60 Minutes, Liam ricordò quel momento straziante: "Mi dissero che non c’era più attività cerebrale. Quando vidi la TAC, fu uno shock. Era attaccata alle macchine. Entrai nella stanza e le dissi che la amavo. Le dissi: ‘Tesoro, non ce la farai. Hai battuto la testa. Non so se riesci a sentirmi, ma questa è la verità. Ti porto a casa, a New York, così i tuoi cari potranno salutarti.’”

Con grande dolore, Liam prese la decisione di staccare le macchine, rispettando il desiderio di Natasha di non rimanere in uno stato vegetativo. Donò tre dei suoi organi: cuore, fegato e reni, salvando così la vita a tre persone.

Questa storia ci ricorda quanto fragile sia la vita, quanto inaspettate possano essere le tragedie… ma anche quanto possa essere eterno un amore vero. Un amore che continua a vivere nei ricordi, nei figli, nei gesti, e nella forza di andare avanti, nonostante tutto.

In un mondo spesso frenetico e superficiale, storie come questa ci insegnano a dare valore al presente, ad amare con autenticità e a non dimenticare mai che l’amore – quello sincero – va oltre ogni addio.

Frasi da ricordare. Emozioni da custodire.

[niennanir]

The Great Bunny Debacle of 24

It was a brisk, sunny morning a week before Christmas in Florida, this morning to be precise. And by 'brisk' I mean: the mid 60's at 8am. It's Florida, I'm not sure what you expect. A nice sea breeze was coming in off The Gulf, touching the air with salt as I opened my lanai door to let the dogs out before breakfast.

Kaname (13), Eirien (12), and Merilin (9), are all, by breed, hunting dogs. I'll pause here to say that no bunnies were harmed in the making of this story. If they had been, I wouldn't have bothered telling it because there wouldn't be anything to tell. Despite the fact I don't hunt, my dogs are very accomplished hunters themselves. No one more than Kaname. Eirien and Merilin are Norwegian Elkhounds, bred for hunting exactly what you'd expect; very large deer. If you took the average timber wolf, made it one third the size and gave it a stupidly cheerful and optimistic disposition, congratulations, you've just created an Elkhound. Kaname is a Shiba Inu. Shibas, despite their popularity in Japan as metropolitan pets, were originally bred as small game hunters. They're lean and sleek and incredibly fast, about as close to a fox in build and skill as you're ever going to see in a dog.

Kaname has a reputation as a ruthless hunter. My house, situated on a quarter acre on the edge of the village, has been her hunting ground for over a decade and she has an impressive trophy history. This is Florida, and all those stories you've heard about the wildlife here are true. There's a lot of it, and a lot of it is dangerous. Kaname has presented me with more dead carcasses of her enemies than I can count. Rats, rattle snakes, and yes, bunnies. But this isn't that story. This is the story of the inevitable march of time and how you know when you're not as young as you used to be. I'm just establishing that four years ago this would not be how my morning went down.

As I open the door and step out onto the patio I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Over by the front gate, out in the open for G-d and canis familiaris to see, is a small brown rabbit. The rabbit looks at me, his eyes narrowed in challenge. I stare him down like we're two gunmen at high noon. In my mind a tumbleweed rolls by. I draw in a breath.

"Get the bunny."

Like a gunshot, two wolves and a fox take off at high speed for the front gate. An Elkhound hunts in a very specific way, instinctually they will corner their prey, then signal with a loud bark to call the hunter.

A very loud bark. There are stories of Elkhounds cornering an elk and by the time the hunter has managed to reach the location, the elk has kicked just from the stress of being screamed at by wolf like dogs. Kaname has learned how to use that to her advantage. The Elkhounds can be relied on to corner the bunny, blocking off its escape so she can bag herself a trophy. Eirien goes left, Merilin goes right, Kaname goes straight up the middle.

The rabbit? He goes completely off the deep end. In a display of unnatural luck the rabbit tears off right, past Eirien who has a touch of glaucoma and a lot less enthusiasm about hunting than she had five years ago. In Eirien's defense she did make a stab at cutting off the rabbit but she couldn't see it that clearly and missed. A rabbit and three dogs head off across the back garden, do two laps around the massive Japanese maple at the center of my lawn, and then run toward the back gate like a merry parade of fur, loud barking, and stupidity. For reasons I'm not too clear on, none of my brilliant children think to double back around the tree, I stand and watch in fascination as absolutely no one makes a good decision.

As they reach the back gate I think to myself that the hunt is seconds from over, there's a gap under the back gate just big enough for a rabbit to slither under but as they reach the gate I see my neighbor's poodle, Luna, who has clearly heard the commotion and come to see why my dogs, who I do not allow to bark without censure, are now screaming loud enough to be heard downtown a mile away.

The rabbit makes a course correction, turning and heading back toward the front gate. About half way across the garden Eirien decides she is just too old for this crap and stops to say good morning to my other neighbor's dog, Max, who weighs about five pounds and has a huge crush on Eirien. As they flirt like two Vets at a VFW holiday swing dance, Kaname and Merilin move in on the bunny who is now crashing into my chainlink gate as if he can bend metal though sheer force of will.

The dogs are almost on him as he gives this up as a bad job, heading back toward the maple tree. Max and Eirien are still flirting, Luna is still at the back gate, barking excitedly at being left out of the fun. Somewhere on main street two holiday tourists at brunch are musing about why they can hear dogs barking so loudly. I'm considering hanging my sound canceling ear protectors on the coat rack in the lanai.

Two more laps around the tree and on the second lap the rabbit makes a dive into the shrubbery at the bottom and comes out the other side. Kaname skids up short and stuffs her head into the hollow at the base of the tree, convinced the rabbit has taken shelter. Merilin tramples over her, still in pursuit of her less than intelligent quarry who is now headed back to the front gate for the third time in less than two minutes.

It's clear that for the rabbit panic has set in. He might have chosen to go into the hollow in the maple, at which point I would have called off the dogs, he could have hidden in the shrubs by the back gate which are too thick and too deep for the dogs to reach and again I would have called them off. He might have just stayed over by the front gate to begin with and hid behind the HVAC. I wouldn't have been able to see him, the dogs certainly wouldn't have been able to see him and none of this would now be happening. As Merilin continues to shout at the top of her lungs I start to understand how elk have dropped dead from the sound. I'm certainly wishing my ears would fall off.

Merilin is almost on the rabbit when it finally finds a gap in the chainlink big enough to fit through.

And gets its fat bunny butt stuck half way.

Merilin skids up short. She looks at the rabbit, stuffed in the chainlink like Winnie the Pooh, then at me, her ecstatically cheerful brow furrowed in confusion. She has cornered the prey, isn't someone else supposed to do something?

Kaname's head is still in the hollow of the maple. There is now the faint whine of disappointment echoing from inside the trunk as she tries to determine how the rabbit has found a portal to another dimension inside a tree. Eirien and Max are still flirting. Luna has lost interest and has disappeared. It looks like it's just me then.

I drag my feet as I head to the front gate. "Leave it," I say. Immediately Merilin backs off two paces. The rabbit is still stuck in the chainlink but it's struggling less now, probably resigning itself to a horrible, sticky end. Merilin looks very pleased with herself, she has never gotten credit for the trophy before. The honor has always belonged to Kaname whose increasing volume of disappointment is still coming from inside the tree.

"I'm sorry," I say to Merilin. "But we're not torturing it to death." I reach down and shove the rabbit's round bottom through the chainlink.

Nothing happens. The stupid thing's wedged in there tight. 'Oh, help and Bother!' I spend nearly twice as long jimmying the rabbit out of my fence as the actual hunt took, all the while telling the rabbit that it's an idiot and it could use a few hours on the stair-master, pudgy moron. Finally success, it scurries the few feet to take shelter under my truck in the drive.

"And don't come back!" I bark at it. "Stay out there and be coyote breakfast like nature intended!"

The promise of breakfast must have jiggled sometime in the minds of the elkhounds who are waiting eagerly by the door, their perpetually delighted dispositions firmly in tact. Kaname is now trying to scale the tree, convinced the rabbit is still somewhere in its vicinity. It's three calls before she finally disengages. In fairness to her she's never been called off a hunt with the quarry still in the yard before. She doesn't know what to do. She's sitting in her bed now, sulking, probably thinking exactly what I'm thinking.

I'm just too old for this.

From Left to Right: Kaname, Eirien, and Merilin.

If you'd like to see more of my dogs, they have a Tumblr:

[pier-carlo-universe]

"Fumana" di Paolo MalagutiUn viaggio tra nebbia, magia e tradizioni nella bassa del Po. Recensione di Alessandria today

"Fumana", pubblicato il 3 settembre 2024, è il nuovo romanzo di Paolo Malaguti che ci trasporta nel cuore della pianura padana, in un mondo perduto tra la nebbia e la magia contadina.

“Fumana“, pubblicato il 3 settembre 2024, è il nuovo romanzo di Paolo Malaguti che ci trasporta nel cuore della pianura padana, in un mondo perduto tra la nebbia e la magia contadina. La protagonista, chiamata Fumana per il legame con la nebbia che avvolge le terre del Po, è una giovane ragazza che cresce libera e selvaggia, allevata dal rude nonno Petrolio. Insieme pescano anguille nelle paludi,…

[ratfoundintrash]

im pretty sure you mentioned a werewolf itfs au a little while ago

can you talk about that a bit ??? like the story youre planning (like the vague plot), or how werewolves work (im super curious about that one, teehee)

Hiiiii Vik!!

So, I’m gonna start this off with a little warning. This lore can change up a bit since I’m still in the world drafting phase !! It should mostly stay the same tho

I’ll stay quiet on the plot since I’m still working on it, but expect some level of insanity and dark/gritty undertones. >:3

Lycanthropy (werewolves) is a virus in my au! The way it is contracted depends on what type of lycanthropy strain it is. There are two main strains (which I named and everything): pure-bloods (werewolves), and impure-bloods (weredogs/half bloods). Weredogs contract it through saliva only, and only while it’s active. If a weredog were to kiss or drink off someone (when human), that person would technically be infected, but the virus would remain dormant and never activate (also the body would flush it out with symptoms similar to food poisoning). But if a weredog was shifted and bit someone else, they would contract the virus and eventually turn.

Werewolves are a bit different, mainly that their strain of lycanthropy can only be transmitted if there is saliva and blood present. The werewolves do this ritualistically (to control numbers and because they wanna keep their virus “pure”). A person would have to get bitten by an infected person while shifted, and ALSO consume blood.

Also! An infected person who doesn’t have an active infection cannot pass the virus on. Only infected ppl with active infection can!

As for naming, this virus takes heavy inspiration from rabies so I named the group strain after it (which is lyssavirus). The werewolf strain is called ‘Lyssavirus Lycan Lupus’. Lycan is for Lycanthropy, and Lupus is the scientific name for wolves (canis lupus!!!)Technically it could also be written as Lupus Lupus but shhhh. The weredog strain is ‘Lyssavirus Lycan Familiaris’. Familiaris is the scientific name for the common dog! (Canis familiaris). So yeah I went a little insane with the naming lmao. The strains are very different but have the same initial infection and first forced transformation.

Finally, werewolves look like… wolves. Just really big and angry wolves. There’s something extra to that but I don’t wanna give anything away quite yet >:) But yeah just wolves on steroids. The biggest of them can get to 6-7 ft at shoulder height. This is because the virus originated in the megafauna/flora time and therefore is BIG. (I’d recommend looking into that btw— moose are considered megafauna and is js cool). I lowkey took inspiration from twilights werewolves. So if it’s still unclear then that can be a starting reference.

Weredogs look more like traditional werewolves in our folklore (or at least the recent ones). So they are half human half wolf and look a little (a lot) freaky (I’m kinda imagining skyrims werewolves for this). They are generally smaller, and come up to about 6 -7 ft standing (but if they were on all fours they would be so much smaller compared to werewolves).

There’s a lot of specifics I’m leaving out for brevity’s sake but if you’re curious abt more, you can send me another ask and I’ll answer (to the best of my ability, I don’t wanna spoil anything hehe)

ALSO!!!! I’m so sorry it took me forever to answer this I’ve been drafting it since like forever and js had the time to type it out!!

Some designs will be released after I finish some of my other art projects!! And I’ll release the mc’s designs when I finish the first chapter (whenever that is 😔)

THANK YOU :]

[anne-bsd-bibliophile]

Dazai Osamu's Works (Volume 1): The complete works of the Japanese author in several volumes

Translated by Erika Strohbach

In (planned) twelve volumes, all of Dazai's well-known works are published in English. The volumes are organised in the order of the Latin alphabet according to the original Japanese titles.

Many of the works have never been published in English before! A mission to make them accessible to more people.

This (Volume One) book contains the stories:

A. Autumn (ア、秋 / A, Aki)

About Love and Beauty (愛と美について / Ai to bi ni tsuite)

Alt-Heidelberg (老ハイデルベルヒ / Alt-Heidelberg)

Rain at Tamagawa - Double Suicide (雨の玉川心中 / Ame no Tamagawa shinju)

My Older Brothers (兄たち / Anitachi)

Aomori (青森 / AOMORI)

Advice(或る忠告 / Aru chUkoku)

Morning (朝 / Asa)

Something Regrettable (あさましきもの / Asamashiki mono)

About "The Last Years" (「晩年」に就いて / "Bannen" ni tsuite)

Handsome Devils and Cigarettes (美男子と煙草 / Bidanshi to tabako)

A Little Beauty (美少女 / Bishujo)

Bizan (眉山 / Bizan)

Chance (チャンス / Chansu)

The Father (父 / Chichi)

The Little Album (小さいアルバム / Chiisai arubamu)

Canis familiaris (畜犬談 / Chikukendan)

Blue Bamboo (竹青 / Chikusei)

Chikyūzu (or World’s Map) (地球図 / Chikyuzu)

Chiyojo (千代女 / Chiyojo)

The Map (地図 / Chizu)

[lunamagicablu]

"Le più comuni identificazioni dell'ego riguardano i beni materiali, il lavoro svolto, la condizione sociale, la conoscenza e l'istruzione, l'aspetto fisico, le abilità speciali, i rapporti affettivi, le storie personali e familiari, i sistemi di credenze, le identificazioni politiche, nazionalistiche, razziali, religiose e collettive di altro genere. Niente di tutto questo siete voi." Eckhart Tolle art _by_christoforkali_ ************************* "The most common ego identifications are material possessions, work done, social status, knowledge and education, physical appearance, special abilities, emotional relationships, personal and family histories, belief systems, political, nationalistic, racial, religious and other collective identifications. None of these are you." Eckhart Tolle art _by_christoforkali_

[autolesionistra]

È il momento degli elenchi puntati (in versione Entusiasmo & Ottimismo):

i crescioni non è che mi dispiacciano ma hanno una frustrazione intrinseca legata al tempo (troppo per scaldarli, troppo per aspettare che il ripieno scenda sotto la temperatura di fusione del plutonio) che di fatto rovina la fruizione dei crescioni

è un certo periodo che mi sento sempre ad un passo dallo strippo ma senza di fatto arrivarci finendo in una sorta di paradosso di Zenone in versione Baudelaire-senza-alcoolici in cui la tartaruga è l'esaurimento nervoso (senza peraltro essere figo quanto Achille).

il 19 e il 20 febbraio le Camere penali di mezza Emilia-Romagna hanno proclamato un'astensione dalle udienze come protesta per la situazione dei penitenziari della regione. (*) Alcuni numeri crudi, il sovraffolamento rispetto alla capienza massima: Bologna 170%; Ferrara 161%; Forlì 122%; Modena 153%; Parma 122%; Piacenza 123%; Ravenna 173%; Reggio Emilia 127%; Rimini 123%. Nel 2024 sono morte 91 persone a fronte di oltre duemila tentativi di suicidio. (*)

al lavoro per risolvere alcuni problemi di entropia documentativa sistemistica ho proposto netbox come strumento e ho installato un'istanza locale; un lustro dopo sono ancora l'unico stronzo che inserisce dati in netbox e ogni volta che lo faccio mi appare lo spettro di Razzi come consigliere per il futuro

i sanitari di Bologna4Gaza stanno portando avanti (in un inspiegabile silenzio mediatico) un intreccio di solidarietà fra svariate associazioni e privati a supporto di nuclei familiari con minori mutilati che necessitano di protesi d’arto ospitati sul territorio bolognese; è una di quelle storie che andrebbe raccontata ammodino e presentata come biglietto da visita bolognese più dei tortellini: https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=pfbid02r7ARfrfLuF7cE3AxfCQbQvqTYbYfPszDmJ8LwBtYpCyJeGY3NJ8Qp9pAgptE3r9ql&id=61558764215752&locale=it_IT (senza nulla togliere ad altre catene di solidarietà o ad altri piatti tipici locali)

il quantitativo di musicisti spettacolari a cui in questi anni le interwebs mi hanno dato accesso si sta lentamente trasformando da motivazionale a demotivante

[orotrasparente]

io e il mio migliore amico ci conosciamo da dieci anni e abbiamo avuto tanti alti e bassi, per me è come un fratello minore, stanotte eravamo in macchina e tornando a casa mi sono accostato a parlare con lui del più e del meno, finché non so come ci siamo ritrovati a parlare delle nostre storie personali e familiari, cose di cui nessuno dei due ha mai parlato tra noi o con altri amici, ed è stato un momento particolarmente strano perché mentre gli parlavo del mio passato si è commosso con le lacrime agli occhi e ci siamo abbracciati, poi vabbè subito dopo abbiamo ripreso a scherzare però è stato strano e liberatorio allo stesso tempo, penso sia per me che per lui e questa cosa mi ha fatto riflettere su quante cose non sappiamo delle altre persone anche se le conosciamo da un decennio o anche più anni