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Manomasìmasumadai

This morning I received a text message that made me think of a song. An epic song , which in my opinion and according to all the music critics niche has not received adequate recognition from the community pop. Yes, I'm talking about Come on Cardillo Andrea (who is?) And Valeria I Non-What's-his-name.

This morning I thought a lot, and I came to the conclusion that this song has two great merits: the first is to teach kids "On" does not want the emphasis. Okay? U accent is "down", not "on". The second great feature is the high coefficient of nonsense of this song. This is exactly what I want to talk in this post. Leaving aside the syntactic structure, focus on the semantics of the text.

But no, yes, but up, but by
But no, yes, but up, but by
No, but yes, but up, but by
But no, yes, but up, but by


(mh. E fin qui... Comunque su "sì" ci vorrebbe l'accento eh! Bimbi, prendete nota)


Mora con gli occhi di velluto 


(di velluto?!)


non l'avessi mai incontrata 
gambe più lunghe di un'autostrada ahi, che pugnalata! 


(Mi sono perso qualcosa: stavi parlando delle gambe e ti pugnalano?)


Most Beautiful Woman Hot promise of love that comes and goes
Damn, too bad you do not let go
Damn, too bad you do not let love


(First you do not understand where's the dagger. But we trust the text, perhaps reappears later.
Imagine how powerful it must be heard when the Linnet was reminded of the rhyme to go / love!)

But no, yes, but up, but by

Ma no, ma si, ma su, ma dai 

Ma no, ma si, ma su, ma dai 

Ma no, ma si, ma su, ma dai

(gli interventi della tipa sono sempre pieni di un'intensa carica espressiva)

Una valanga di messaggini dai, fai una telefonata!


(ma... E CHIAMALA TU!)


scrivimi quando ti vedo davvero non autofotografata 
Che rompimento la virtualità 


(Riflessione sulla società moderna schiava delle tecnologie. Quanto sei profondo Cardy!)


Ah, ma dice che verrà! 


(Ambiguità. Quanto sei ermetico Cardy!)


Vuoi vedere che questa volta si lascia andare 
Vuoi vedere che questa volta si potrà fare


("Olé. N'artra rima. Ao, ma so' propio mitico oh!")

Ma no, ma si, ma su, ma dai 

Ma no, ma si, ma su, ma dai 

Ma no, ma si, ma su, ma dai 

Ma no, ma si, ma su, ma dai



S'era spogliata e si è rivestita accidenti che bastonata! 


(ma non c'hai raccontato la parte più divertente!!!)


Mi ha chiesto apologizes and says she returned
not enough for me an evening, for me love is life, it seems to me that a
takes and go ... but no, but yes, but up, but from but no, but yes, but up, but come on ...


(Beware, because now you touch the pinnacle of no sense. The music world has never come to much)


E ; I was there with abdominal
And I was there with abdominal


(?????????????????????? ???????????????????????????????
????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????
????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????)

But no, yes, but up, but by

But no, yes, but up, but by

But no, yes, but up, but by

But no, yes, but up, but by


Unfortunately, women, women, women


(tududu, friends ever ...)


girls or grandmothers


(Here, here the rhyme you could be better ...)


we can not help but skirts of your life!


(NOW ARE NO WORDS .)

But no, yes, but up but by

But no, yes, but up, but by

But no, yes, but up, but by

But no, yes, but up, but by


whole life! Unfortunately, women, women, girls or women
grandmothers
we can not help but skirts of your life!


(Do not believe it. He said it again!)

But no, yes, but up, but by

Ma no, ma si, ma su, ma dai 

Ma no, ma si, ma su, ma dai 

Ma no, ma si, ma su, ma dai


Tutta la vita!


(E spegnendo lo stereo, non ci rimane che pensare che la pugnalata lo abbia fatto morire dissanguato)

Kate´s Playground - Raven Riley

There's nothing left of us;
I was left with only a photo
heart,

faded memories of old time portraying

you while you brush
golden hair like the sun, reflected in the mirror

of your big blue eyes as
the sea.
I feel faint echo of your name, your smile

top of the stairs, and I look inside
,
now
and I know I'll never stop

to look for emotion in his heart. And this poem

is nothing but a rose for you,

to remind me not to ever tell
"Farewell."

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Eyes
hands as they steal

seductive looks like a child
steals cherries from the tree

of his desire.
savor the sweet and tasty juice

the delicious fruit of my


and your excitement while my eyes
cocky and arrogant
gets under your clothes

succinct in your soft breasts caressing

in a cheeky smile
which is reflected in your
burning of pleasure
our vivid meaning.

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desire witch
night flights will hear the wind
caress
but the breath is far
among the stars in the dark


Seawater
sculpt my body
velandolo

A transparent lips parted
t'inviterò


Moments of paradise will offer you '
your skin
vibrate
me love you yearn
between reality and dream


You will be stunned when you feel unable to understand

beyond what you desire to

still a flame burning desire


want to return to fly again

beyond all sense or reason
ripetere e ripetere

l'incantesimo

di questa notte

ogni altrove tempo

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you goddess

ALLA DEA
Ritrovarsi con la bocca piena di terra e di ricordi remoti e inafferrabili/ sentire gli odori umidi della notte
e il sapore e l'odore delle tue labbra tumide e invitanti
come le sirene di Ulisse
e nel cuore irrompono i frangenti di mille e mille onde
quasi a slavare qualcosa
che la mente non riesce o non vuole vedere o capire...
bastava vivere appena, bastava vivere appena!
E d'intorno un deserto di acqua e di fuoco
e di sabbia ardente consuming my
today and do not make me see tomorrow.
I felt crushed, beaten, stripped of all abducted
thought or want to pirate
(memory is sometimes poor and defends what he alone is enough to live)
And the body withers away, just moving, some sudden flash through
his face,
the memories of yesterday, that burn and hurt, and weigh, and weigh that burn and hurt!
Then the bizarre, drunken, and desirous of human responses,
throw a dart that surrounds my body, he takes the floor of the mouth,
memories and burns before my eyes
the blue sea, blue the sky,
your eyes! Your eyes e l'Amore per me !!

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Trasparente come il vetro,
fredda come il ghiaccio…
Una mano candida sfiora lacrime di cristallo…
Occhi che non sanno più piangere,
labbra che non sanno più sorridere,
cuori che non sanno più amare,
abbracci che non sanno come riscaldare l’anima.
Il vuoto dentro uno sguardo illusorio,

promesse non dette né lette,
semplicemente dimenticate, riaffiorate così,
dal contatto di un tenero tocco.
Amorevole carezza d’invidiabile dolcezza,
sorriso limpido, radiosa stella cedente…
Fugge indietro il ricordo, a tradimento richiamato alla mente,
fugge via la speranza appena risorta,
fugge senza lasciare scampo la gioia appena conquistata,
ritorna la nostalgia sconfitta, ora vincitrice,
dominatrice dell’attimo presente,
ma non di quello fuggente,
aggrappato alla flebile visione
di un lontano e perduto amore…

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L’amore è passione, ossessione, qualcuno senza cui non vivi, io ti dico: buttati a capofitto, trova someone to love the madness and love you the same way. How to find it? Well, forget the brain and listen to your heart.

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The Art of Loving

If two people who had no leave suddenly drops the wall that divided them, and feel close, together, this moment of union is one of the emotions exciting life. It is even more wonderful and miraculous for those who lived alone, isolated, without suffering. The miracle of this sudden intimacy is often facilitated if it matches, or if it starts with sexual attraction. However, this kind of love is for his very nature not lasting love. Gradually, that two people become well-rehearsed, their intimacy loses more and more miraculous character, until their antagonism, their disagreements, mutual forbearance kill what remains of the initial excitement. Yet, at the beginning, they do not know; exchange intensity infatuation, the mad love that binds them to the proof of the intensity of their feelings, and could only feel the intensity of their loneliness. [...]
Love is an active power of man, a power that cancels the walls that separate him from his peers, which makes him overcome the sense of isolation and separation, and yet allows it to be self- same and maintain its integrity. It seems paradoxical, but in the two beings become one and yet remain two. [...]
Love is only possible if two people communicate with each other from the depths of their being, that is, if each of the two feels herself from the center of his being. Only in this "profound experience" is the human reality, only there is life, there is only the basis for love.
Love, felt that way, is an ongoing challenge, not a fixed point, but with a live, animated, even if there is harmony or conflict, joy or sadness, is of secondary importance before the fundamental reality that two people feel themselves in the essence of their existence, that being one being one with themselves, rather than escape themselves. There is only a test to demonstrate the presence of love: the depth of relationships, and the vitality and strength in each of the parties .[...]
The mature love is a union that keeps your entire identity: true love means that two beings become "one" remaining "two".
Often it is not. In fact, you create situations of "symbiosis" (ie in which one lives the other) or situations that generate "domain" or "subordination" in which what appears "Strong" needs "weak" to give themselves an identity and vice versa (in technical terms are indicated as sadistic and masochistic symbiosis).
But the love lives of others (ie the "suck" for nutrimene) but lives on the other: it gives to another. In other words it is an experience "passive" but an "active". Love
therefore can be defined as an inner activity of man, that "produces" and not "made". Love is so free and "realizes" the report. This differs from the passions in which the person is a victim of an external pressure that the cause ("produced" in fact) but that "consumes" the report.
So the mature love can be defined as: the person's orientation toward the world where people do not "consume" but "made" reports.
What is the instrument "production" of the person? The "give".
Unfortunately, the "give" is a concept that has been loaded with ambiguous nuances which must be free. Giving is not "surrender" or "private" or "sacrifice." These views are childish and immature people who do not have reached a certain harmony with his inner: there still behaves in a passive manner to reality. Instead
giving is the highest expression of power and human freedom. In the same act of giving I feel my strength and my power over myself and reality. And this perception of vitality fills me with joy. So there really is more blessed to give than to receive because it is not a deprivation or sacrifice, but because I feel alive in this act shall be myself. In fact, who really gives does not give things but himself. And even in the things of itself. Who likes to give its joy, its interest, its humor, maybe la propria tristezza, comunque manifestazioni di ciò che è vitale in lui.
Se l’amore si esprime così allora “produce” la relazione e genera reciprocità: “dare” significa fare anche dell’altra persona un essere che dà ed entrambi dividono la gioia di sentirsi vivi. Quindi l’amore maturo è una forza che produce amore.


Ma come si esprime il dare?
In quattro modi fondamentali:
premura, responsabilità, rispetto, conoscenza.


Sono virtù che fanno parte della personalità matura, cioè che ha superato i sogni narcisistici di onnipotenza ed ha acquistato l’umiltà dalla sua capacità di sentirsi vivo.

concern and interest for the active life and growth of what we love. A mother who claims to love his little child, but you forget to feed it's a poor love.

Responsibility and the response to the expressed or unexpressed needs of another who loves "answers" because it concerns the life of others. Compared

responsibility alone can lead to "domination" but those who enjoy observing. It is not fear but to see the person as it is (look respicere =) so who want to grow and develop to what it is. Respect, however, is possible if I have achieved independence and autonomy, that is if I stand alone without the need for that hanger that is the rule on or depend on someone. Knowledge

How can I respect what I do not know? There are many degrees of knowledge, but love is never superficial. Go beyond the limit of superficiality is only possible if I can "undo" facing each other for not filtering through my patterns and prejudices to see it as it truly is. [...]

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A woman to fully explore and express their sexuality and their own emotional and intellectual capacity, should run great risks and implement a profound revolution in the social conditions that repress and force.
The alternative is to persist in trying to adapt the order of the world, forever surrendering to slavery of a stereotype of femininity recognized, that is, if you will, to a perversion.

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If I could tap my thoughts with my hands caress your face

.... and the meeting of our eyes ...
in silence the fact of 'emotions
let me steal from your smile, with love
che mi urla nel cuore
mi unisco a te in un abbraccio
che d’incanto si veste di setose carezze,
volando ad ali sciolte in quel cielo d’amore
vestito di candide nuvole ,
là… dove i nostri cuori cantano d’amore.

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Si spegne il giorno , avanza la sera
silenziosa e bella come una fata
indossa il suo manto di stelle.
La notte si riempie di sogni ,
di occhi socchiusi… e speranze ,
sospiri , che si mescolano coi ricordi ,
sorrisi che brillano nel cuore ,
e penso a te amore mio , al desiderio
di svegliarmi
next to you every morning and find the same magic in your eyes
night, live and share with you
the new day, paint the blue sky
, scattering here and there like caresses
fluffy clouds, and by your smile a Pearl
of sunshine to brighten the day will come, and
feed me feed you all the love you need to know to be aware

you and you for me always, as well as day and night,
over time, happy
in color of love, hug you tenderly ...
hold your hand to walk on arcolbaleni .

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Twenty win big spree

Mi sono appena rimboccato le maniche.

No, non è una metafora! Mi sono davvero rimboccato le maniche prima di appoggiare le dita sulla tastiera. E il buffo è che stavo pensando "Mmmh, come potrei cominciare...?". La verità è che è una faticaccia iniziare questo genere di post molto autobiografico. Ci vuole coraggio, ci vuole voglia di mettersi in gioco e bisogna stare attenti perché il rischio di prendersi troppo sul serio è alto.

Sopratutto per l'ultimo motivo, vedrò di essere il più trankyfanky possibile. (Si comincia bene, con il termine trankyfanky)

Bene. 

...

...

E mo che dico?

...

Ah, yes. I think the twenty-first year has been more fruitful so far. Firstly because they are always thin (for now) and I still have hair (for now, horns horns horns horns horns) and nearly whole beard. And then for other reasons altogether marginal stain to a practice that I would list them.

• I have lived and not only survived . I know that now is a phrase most of pandori granted after January 6, but I wanted to put so much to create that effect drammariadefilippesco'm glad to hear that every so often.

• I laughed so . I recommend that before "rice" and "a lot". I do not have a lot of rice - which I do not like, actually - I laughed so hard. In the sense of making type ahahaha eheheh ihihihih Gnè Gnè Gnè buahuahauh, understand?

• are mounted on a stage. And I spoke out loud. And there were people watching me. I played, yes, I recited, and it was something I never thought I'd never been able to do. And when you do things you thought you'd never be able to do, you realize that things that are not able to do ... are many, many less.

• I met Milan, which is a beautiful city that I hate much. The memory of the shops in Milan, the memory of the beers in Milan and the huge Mai Tai, the memory of that park in Milan with the fountain of the dragon and the stranger who was passing by while I had to say something, and the memory green eyes Milan will stay with me forever.

• I started making the film . An aside which will end 'soon, and write it in upper case because if someone of my readers are going to continue the case themselves that never make co-directed with him or never go on alone as a director ( pffff!) Is wrong big. I do not think being taken, but it's still fun to spend the evenings Tiz to despair with what we are back on not god help us we'll never be the end

• I made incredible figures shit. It is useful to do with it, let's assume that the arguments run out with friends, so you know what to tell. Never mind that then you have to turn your town hiding his face with his hand ...

• I have many friends, old and new. There have been important innovations in this field, and many confirmations. Even some people lost on the way, that maybe one day return. I'd like the names of everyone, but it is better not to. Groups them. Those that have always been those schools, that of unity, those of the theater, other than fish and Co, those of Gary, those of Pisa, those Dreamalot, those who are not in these groups ... I love you all.

• I discovered that I hate the pants leg of elephant . And to love ... the rest .

• I saw Lady GaGa. Yes, sorry, I could not mention it, it is important! I've seen, live, and was one of the greatest emotions of this year. And I heard Baustelle , three times a year, and all three times was magical. And Carmen Consoli, a woman, a real woman. And Immanuel Casto (such wool), and The Genius , and probably others I can not remember!

• I learned that if you press Alt + 7 at the same time ... make the shot. Delight, • • • • • • • • • •! And if you press Alt plus 0200 you can make the accented capital E! ÈÈÈÈÈÈh! Revelation! Doing something is a computer!

• I have given birth to a draft operating systems, I developed a passion for spasmodic Philadelphia, I learned the choreography di un balletto, ho fatto finta di essere un albero volante, ho vomitato l'anima, ho mangiato il sushi e l'anatra all'ananas, ho provato l'emozione di tornare a dormire nella propria camera dopo un'alluvione, ho visto Budapest e la Croazia, ho insultato l'autista del pullman, ho camminato durante una bufera di neve (okay, forse sto esagerando), ho servito porchetta e grigliata a più di cento irritantissime persone, ...

• Questo punto lo lascio vuoto, non scrivo niente. Vale per tutte le cose che ho fatto e che sono troppo stanco per ricordare, e per quelle che ho fatto e che sono troppo timido per dire. 

I apologize for having done all these words suffer. But today is the only day that is my strong self-entitled, so exploit it.

Twenty-one victory, a great spree, they say in blackjack.

And for the twenty-two? Ghghgh, already began to smile.

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THE TALE OF LOVE THROUGH THE SE
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Faces / 029 ("Night Shift")

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When you meet someone special

you fall asleep thinking about dreaming
and you wake up expecting to find

... You know you can not see ...
know that she is far away from your eyes

but not from your thoughts from your heart ... ...

When you find a special person
your life changes
but you miss it, and she
. slowly
you already entered the heart. Perhaps
it is too early to call it love ...


but too late to go back. When you meet someone special

everything takes on a different color, the color of the sea ...

the scent of the wind ...

more and you can not help but think of it.

know you should not ... you know it's a dream, but you should
,
desire, to dream ...


and would like to find yourself in the color of his eyes,

affected the flavor of her kisses, the warmth of

his body ... the touch of his hands ... When you meet someone special


're too happy to think and understand,
because you know that she is the person
special

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The thought of you,
slips into my soul every night ..
born from my heart,
to expand all over my body,
my eyes light up with joy, sadness
followed by a sudden, as a tear wets
these lines full of longing and desire ..
I've never lost, because,
I've never had and I probably never will ....
're so far away, yet
you feel close to me in this world where nothing
done for us ...
you look like every night,
as always, in My memories,
til the morning light ....

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Women know this. And men?

I wanted to write a few words about the national event that Italian women will do against the image of women shown in these days: a woman's object, a woman who has no problem to sell their bodies and their dignity in exchange for money or an apartment, or an armchair politics.

I can not to criticize women for this event: I think, in fact, that there really women's pride, and rightly flaunt at least on this occasion. I find, however, that by a woman, her participation in the event is pretty useless: know if a woman will ever be willing to make a whore; if a woman can never lie to cover the garbage of a politician ; if a woman knows her dream is really to make the tissue paper. A woman who knows these things would not need to show others.

But there is another category for which this event would really make sense.

men.

is men who should be indignant, angry, ashamed of the way men treat women. It is the male pride that should explode in the square. Sunday is the men who would like to hear. Entries are serious ones that should stand, shouting "WE WOMEN DO NOT PAY."

Why, in this situation, the sex whose image comes out shamefully hit is not the female, even though it takes account of women as objects; but that of man, it seems that today - in DUEMILAUNDICI, at least eight thousand years after the birth of the first civilizations - consider the woman as his inferior.

If it is true that we live in a society where being male makes life a bit 'easier (at least pass me this, if you do not want to admit that society is male), then it is man - sex In this sense, privileged - that should make the first move and manifest.

L ' real man is what you should get off the streets. Because man does not use real women, and do not pay, the true man is one who hopes for a society which is not so mathematical that he works and she washes, the real man is what you feel hurt by people of the same sex as they treated the women in those days.

Sunday, February 13th I'll be in my town to demonstrate. Why I am ashamed. Why do I think is important. And because I want to reassure women that there is still some man for whom the equation is definitely untrue FEMALE LIKE WHORE.

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if you want I'll be a whisper in
black night, a tear or
butter,
to dissolve in the spring, Or else I'll be

and log fire in the fireplace, and if
do you like my heat,
I'll try to come closer.
and warm and strong hands and lips

skin and distant worlds
and shining stars,
sake of the temple, where you lose the
intellect
to follow the example of
hug him tightly.
do not want anything, I want nothing
,
just a girl, both
Smiling
What has wheat,
and in her smile, after a distant sea

.... paradise.

In another place, another space
,
d be burning
I thank you.
In my heat,
subisco your skin,
want love,
and night stars.

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Reach ...
you expect ...
lying ...

Reach ...
I'm waiting ...
only know what we'll be combining the moon ...
Reach ...
I love you ...
useless to prevail l' orgoglio...
Raggiungimi...
sono impaziente..
ci sei solo tu nella mia mente...
Raggiungimi...
labbra ovunque avremo..
di passione vivremo..
Raggiungimi..
noi siamo.. e saremo

Mi basterebbe una tua carezza
per incominciare ad amarti
...una tua parola
in un volo senza veli di nuvole
ma siamo immersi nella maschera
dei nostri sentimenti stretti
sempre di più nella crisalide
paura... di soffrire
paura di essere liberi
e...ci perdiamo in un deserto di luna
senza mai far mormorare il cuore
quei gesti... nel tuono del silenzio
per paura di perdere....
per paura di niente
eppure... vorrei I
enlighten both of your eyes
e. .. dream on your words ...
immerse myself in that game
true feelings but never let the light dispel