Momo

- Perchè non sorridi mai, Momo?
- Sorridere è roba da gente ricca, monsieur Ibrahim. Io non ho i mezzi.
- Perchè, tu credi che io sia ricco?
- Bhè, la sua cassa è sempre strapiena. Non conosco nessuno che per tutto il giorno abbia così tanti soldi sotto gli occhi.
- Ma i soldi mi servono per pagare la merce e il locale. E alla fine del mese non mi resta molto, sai.
- Monsieur Ibrahim, quando dico che il sorriso è roba da ricchi, intendo dire che è roba per gente felice.
- Ecco, è qui che ti sbagli. E' il sorridere che rende felici.

- Come sa tutte queste cose, monsieur Ibrahim?
- Io non so niente. So solo quello che c'è nel mio Corano.

- Hai un solo paio di piedi, Momo, devi averne cura. Se le scarpe ti fanno male, le cambi. Ma i piedi, quelli non li potrai mai cambiare!

- La bellezza è dappertutto, Momo. Dovunque tu giri l osguardo. E' scritto nel mio Corano, questo.

- Il tuo amore per lei è tuo. Ti appartiene. Anche se lei lo rifiuta, nonlo può cambiare. Semplicemente non ne approfitta, ecco tutto. Quello che tu dai, Momo, è tuo per la vita; e quello che non dai è perduto per sempre!

- No, non l'autostrada, Momo. Non prendere l'autostrada. Le autostrade, ci passi e basta, non c'è niente da vedere. Sono buone per gli imbecilli che vogliono andare il più velocemente possibile da un punto all'altro. Noi non facciamo della geometria, noi viaggiamo. Trovami dei bei percorsi che ci facciano vedere bene tutto quello che c'è da vedere.

- "Il cuore dell'uomo è come un uccello rinchiuso nella gabbia del corpo". Quando danzi il cuore canta come un uccello che aspira a fondersi con Dio. Vieni, andiamo al tekkè

E così, ancora oggi, quando le cose non vanno per il verso giusto, io giro.
Punto una mano verso il cielo e giro. Punto una mano verso il suolo e giro. I cielo ruota sopra di me. La terra ruota sotto di me. Non sono più io, ma uno di quegli atom iche girano intorno al vuoto che è tutto.

you can't always get what you want

L'AMORE E' UNA OPERAZIONE CHIRURGICA SENZA ANESTESIA

trovata qui

un paese civile

...la liberta' e l'ugugaglianza...

gud mud

L is for the way you look at me
O is for the only one I see
V is very, very extraordinary
E is even more than anyone that you adore can

Love is all that I can give to you
Love is more than just a game for two
Two in love can make it
Take my heart and please don't break it
Love was made for me and you

L is for the way you look at me
O is for the only one I see
V is very, very extraordinary
E is even more than anyone that you adore can

Love is all that I can give to you
Love is more than just a game for two
Two in love can make it
Take my heart and please don't break it
Love was made for me and you

there are no if conditions about love

the One

After he left I cried for a week.

And then I realized I do have faith. Faith in myself. Faith that I one day will meet someone who will be sure that I was the one.

Carrie

where does the love go?

I've been on both sides.
You wake up one day and you realize that you do not feel it anymore. And it hurts, knowing that you have to push away and hurt the most precious person.
Or you wake up one day and you are told such a thing. Sure, you could have imagined that, but you did not. And suddenly you feel like you are no worth much and you just hurt.

The question is in both cases the same "Where did the love go?" "Where is the love?"

And who can say if your love grows,
As your hearth chose, only time?

But we keep hoping, as Ted (at minute 05:15)
"How do you know?"
"I don't know, but I believe"

magnolia, bright and lovely as she is and loving "lange Spaziergaenge" as she does

I wanna

live out loud!!!

Come on hold my hand,
I wanna contact the living.
Not sure I understand,
This role I’ve been given.

and today is officially blueberries day!!!

make love your goal

everybody had always expected her to be the good girl. good grades, well behaved, kind, helpful. she went to church, she engaged herslef at school and in extra-school activities. she smiled to everybody.

then she grew up. many things changed. but some stayed the same.

she allowed herself a way to release stress. but that way to cope with stress wasn't really a great idea. she started working on that.

and then quite late she discovered other situations in which she could let herself go. it was when she made love. there she didn't need to know everything, she could allow herself to be a learner. to be selfish. to say the stupid things that came to her mind.
she did not need to excell, because in making love excelling is mainly determined from chemistry between the lovers.

and she liked it.

glory?

This is a song I've been singing for a long time. it's like an old friend. but, you know, I think it, it's only recently that I discovered what it's really about.

You've got to give a little, take a little,
And let your poor heart break a little.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

You've got to laugh a little, cry a little,
Until the clouds roll by a little.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

As long as there's the two of us,
We've got the world and all its charms.
And when the world is through with us,
We've got each others arms.

You've got to win a little, lose a little,
Yes, and always have the blues a little.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

a story

"If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours forever. If it doesn't, then it was never meant to be."

I walked alone for hours upon hours
In a field of foreign flowers 
Then to my surprise
My emotions began to sensationalize
Before my very own eye
Was the most beautiful butterfly
Full of colors I had never seen
A simple nature that cut my heart keen
His wings so innocent but grand
If he only new what I had planned
So, I made my move to make him mine
Him and I, we would combine
I held him in my hands so tight
Part of me knew it was not right
I watched him scared as can be
Flickering his wings trying to be free
I wanted so bad to make him mine
That I over looked the obvious sign
He was meant to be free
And, our love came with no guarantee
So, I opened my hands and let him go 
And watched as another gardener he bestow
That Gardener, she took from me what was never mine
A relationship that we had yet to define
My heart did hurt and yes it bled
For my beautiful butterfly lay in another flower bed
I will never understand why he choose to be free
When it was so clear it was with me he should be
Then to my surprise on one August gloomy day
Upon my flower my beautiful butterfly lay
He looked at me with sincere eyes
And told me that his choice was unwise
I told him that I loved him true 
And, that he stained my heart dark blue
If you love a butterfly you let him go
Watch his wild oats be sow
If to you he return
For your heart he will yearn
Come back to you- he's yours forever
With true love that he endeavor

the rain is falling down

The rain is falling down and it washes everything away, 
it cancels my own bones. 
The rain is falling down and everything falls down 
and I slip on dirty water. 
Yes, but what do you care, 
refresh yourself if you want 
my own dirty rain. 
Tell me what is good for 

standing far away in silence and look at 
our passion that dies in a corner and 
does not know about us, 
does not know about us, 
does not know about us.

 
The rain is falling down and everything is quiet:
you see, I feel the peace too. 
The rain is falling down, and this peace 
is just dirty water and live coal.
There is cold air all around us, 
hug me if you want 
my own dirty rain. 
Tell me what is good for 

standing far away in silence and look at 
our passion that dies in a corner.
And tell me what is good for 

hoping if it rains and one does not feel pain 
as my skin which is dying, 
that changes color, 
that changes its smell.

 
Tell me what is the meaning of

crying now,
crying against me, 
who I'm not able to defend my ugly skin 
so dirty, 
very dirty, 
how dirty is 
this dirty dirty rain.

 
Yes, but do not defend me now,
do not defend me now,
do not defend me, 
rather come back as mud, yes, but come back. 
Tell me what is good for 

standing far away in silence and look at 
our passion that does not die, 
but changes color. 
Let me hope 
that it rains and you feel as well the smell 
of this my skin, that is white 
and does not want the color, 
does not want the color, 
no... 
no... 

My skin is white paper for your story: 
write the end, 
I am ready. 
I do not want to stand on the door of our lives, 
see that it is over. 
Clouds which pass by and dump rain as stones 
and at each step we forget our steps, 
the way along which we walked together 
throwing our seed on stone. 

Warm drops of rain on the sand
killing us every night after the anger. 
Love, my love, 
this passion over as the hunger of a lion 
after it has devoured its prey and has left the bones to the vultures, 
you do not remember us, but we were the ones
embracing each other still in the rain 
while all the others ran away looking for shelter.
And our love is gunpowder, 
the thunder is only a heart beat 
and the light flashes without noise. 
And my skin is white paper for your story, 
but write the end: 
I am ready.

dear love

Dear Love,

you, mystery hidden behind any gesture,

you, player,

you, cheater,

you, joker.

You, energy,

you, force,

you, passion,

you, patience.

You, hug,

you, bread,

you, bed linen,

you, morning sun.

You, meaning,

you, salt,

you, ocean,

you, blue.

Yours faithfully,

magnolia