la melodie du bonheur est triste

mumbling >>:"When I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things, And then I don't feel, so bad."


i put down the music. the charm, if charm is , is over.and i feel lonely .
over and over .

bottled up.


i cant afford to slack off ;that s what im actually doing, though.

me+favourite thing 

favourite things

listening to:>>Otto ohm-amore al terzopiano

one of the (few)sweetest things of coming back is to find something of your own, which u really -really cherish.

its pretty incredible how before leaving my orange sponge large hat was definitely my favourite item. then i forgot it at home (can t remember if there was no room for it in the suitcase or just forgot it?).unfortunately i dont have much time to linger on researches.

this pm , the official excuse is that i need to arrange my stuff in the wardrobe which is dramatically too packed to fill it with all the clothes still folded in the suitcase (!!!!!).

l objet retrouvé is worth a reason for switching from melancholy mode(perennial) to optimistic pause(half an hour?).would it be great if colourtheraphy could last a few other days

heading to the exam.

ive been studying all day.
thats the good news.

the bad one is : my parents ve gone out and ive already give it up.uhm.


listening to:>> Eels :electro-shock blues

movielogue

Adèle: Oui, bin, l'ampoule, ça fait un moment qu'elle est naze, figurez-vous.

dots

i can find no concentration.
or if it happens, it's so hard to keep it on my work.30 min and i m already fed up.

spent all the morning rather concocting something for my blog. find out just these dots.

something of a lover

I remember having read somewhere this quotation
" a man travels the world in search of what he needs and returns home to find it".i dont feel like that actually.maybe the opposite.
i feel exactly like i ve lost everything i learnt and learnt to be as soon as i came home.

"in my beginning is my end"

it seems to be like that. the time i spent in uk-france being the beginning and the end of everything. These 6 months in uk-france were my first such long stay far from home. .i feel like i fell in love with those places,feel better when i can think about that period,still trying to have some time to think in french. dont want to lose it.any word of it..

but i truly hope it couldn t be like that.truly hope that i could come through it . hoping i could be whirled up by something new.
sort of forgetting the ex and meeting someone else.someone more inspiring. and as good . could it be?
how long do i have to wait for?

" a man travels the world in search of what he needs and returns home to find it". wish it could be like that."in my end is my beginning"






Last night i met one of my housemates in bericote on msn.aadil.he s going back to wk this we.i literally envy him and everyone else i met there.wish i could be where they are.

On ne jette pas une ampoule quand elle éclaire encore.

Adèle: On fait comment : on se sert la main, on s'embrasse...
Gabor: On s'oublie.
Adèle: Je vous promets rien.

... 

lavagna

da farfalla a dinard a sepia in 60 giorni.

sono appena rientrata dal mare.

ripensavo al mio penultimo rientro dal mare,il settembre scorso. E mi sn messa a contare tutte le stanze che sono diventate mie da allora.
ritorno dal mare, casa ufficiale, casa con marcella a catania ,
partenza per l inghilterra: stanza a westwood, stanza a londra da jean marc, stanza a parigi,di nuovo londra, pasqua,stanza a cryfield ,londra , poi parigi, poi nuova stanza a whitefields,poi bretagna,parigi, poi ritorno a whitefiels,poi bretagna , poi parigi.

infine sono tornata a casa (a mare).
ho capito che mi illudevo a sentirmi cresciuta.perche chi cresce è grande sempre.invece è come se il mio viaggio ad un certo punto fosse ritornato indietro. una specie di riavvolgimento.uno spiacevole rim-picciolimento.

cosi, il giorno del mio compleanno è stato anche l ultimo giorno felice del mio viaggio.da quel momento tutto s 'è imbruttito.e proprio quando avevo capito che avevo trascorso inutilmente i miei ventitre precedenti a casa a fare le barricate con le mie paure e insicurezze al mondo e quando infine avevo scoperto di essere libera e molto bella, sono tornata nella stessa stanza. con l estate e il mare e i miei e le stesse mura attorno.

mi sn chiesta se il mio moleski'ne avesse avuto ancora un senso.e ho pensato che avevo ancora voglia di scrivere ma che stare a parigi o wk o scoglitti faceva la differenza.ma che il piagnisteo a londra e a vittoria ,o il sorriso erano piuttosto gli stessi anche se forse meno interessanti le storie.cosi ho pensato a me stessa e non mi fermerò, per ora, di scrivere.

(brb)

i m looking forward- forward to blogging again.
i ll be back soon.