Culture

50 shades of rubbish

For millions of women the week opened with a spicy perspective: 50 shades of gray came out the 14th of February, and most of the girls choose Saint Valentine’s pretext either to torture and/or turn on their boyfriends, either to spend a funny dreamy evening between singles.
I had better to do, and no better company than my mom, so I started the week very well.

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I couldn’t figure out how a film treating this issue could come up well, in spite of my girlfriends recommending it; and in fact after the vision I stay with my opinion. Actually actors, music, photography, cuts are very well taken, it is the plot in himself that doesn’t fit anywhere. I read the book and after the first episode I shut it quite disgusted and didn’t go ahead buying (my mum did!). It is so absurd and out of reality: he’s awesomely young, rich, active and controlling – and this is an hypothetical period of unreality already -; she’s a 21 years old student commonly brunette, clumsy and VIRGIN – that is not only uncommon in the XXI century all over the civilised world, but totally improbable and idealistic especially when facing a Mr control freak Grey!! A contract of submission appears almost immediately after he starts stalking and kidnapping her – he comes to save her when she’s drunk and this make him falling deeper in his anxiety of control -, and floats over the couple – because he actually FALLS IN LOVE so the prohibition of kisses, hugs and sweet words fades away and there’s no much harsh BDSM, the tingle coming just by the vision of the “Red Room of Torture” – for the whole film. It is boring and there are holes, plus beating a woman even for “a game” isn’t sane and sexy to preach; it should not be seen as something exciting in machos that seemingly don’t exist. But Anastasia pouring tears for some beatings at the end and escaping is ridiculous. She’s a mix of the popular opinion (of the XIX century!) of a good girl to marry: English’ literature student, no men previously, sensitive and curious at the point to be disarmingly stupid. He gives her everything and fucks her out of the famous contract finally, but she still asks him WHY he’s with her and what are his problems. You can hide a book to a teenager, but when over 14 years old (or even less, as there’s no control) you will feel curious and obliged to go watching the film what happens? The education given is so scandalous and unrealistic that Twilight’s preaching of the existing of good vampires that eat animals and are chaste with humans make sense.
Where are the classic bitings and scratchings? Women, start using your weapons to keep and brand your macho man instead of fantasising over fictions….

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Culture, Lifestyle, Places

Life is so much better if sometimes it rains and sometimes it doesn’t

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Sun makes people lazy. Isn’t it fun to run through the rain and join your destination? And when all the deeds are done, to dry yourself and find comfort in your home, in the arms of your loved one or hugged by a blanket… Rain is creativity and energy, and I really enjoy it when it’s shared. I remember the day I did two exams in Brussels: the day started very sunny and warm, but -while time was going by and with it all my knowledge and expectation in the harder Erasmus day ever-, clouds were increasing proportionally with my anxiety. And as soon as I entered the class where I had to show up my Russian force, a heavy rain began to drop. In two hours it got only worse, and I had to afford a crazy run to the bus station with ballerinas at my feet. Luckily I saw a boy with an umbrella that helped me. It was like a mirage, he was Italian and he run with me. I didn’t even know his name, but I’m still thankful and by far that moment will always make me smile. The bus took half an hour to get to my stop due to traffic, half an hour spent talking with a young girl already professor of philosophy, then crazy run with short stop telling my friends at Saint Plon that I had survived and probably I had even succeeded. My day didn’t even end when I reached my beloved wooden room, I had to celebrate it: it was the first, the hardest and of course the unforgettable one . There’s no way to describe how I love surprises, and this is true even with the weather. Wherever I will live, there’s no city like Brussels, where you can experience all the seasons in one day.

I miss the heavy snow in march. Why have I born in Italy?
Then, why all the greatest romantic literature is set in cold countries and is dominated by Wuthering Eights? Passion, death, ghosts and eternity cannot be represented by the sun…. and by far, aren’t they the more charming?
The coldest and stormiest, the warmer.

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La vita è così migliore se a volte piove e a volte no!

Il sole rende le persone pigre. Non è meraviglioso correre sotto la pioggia per raggiungere la propria destinazione? E quando tutti i compiti sono stati svolti, asciugarsi e cercare conforto nella propria casa, tra le braccia della persona amata o riscaldato da una coperta… La pioggia è creatività e energia, e adoro quando è condivisa. Ricordo il giorno in cui dovevo sostenere due esami a Bruxelles: giornata iniziata con un sole primaverile ma,- con il passare del tempo e con ciò tutte le mie conoscenze e aspettative per il giorno più duro del mio esasmus-, con nuvole crescenti proporzionalmente con la mia ansia. Come sono entrata nell’aula dove dovevo sostenere lo scritto di russo, una pioggia fittissima ha iniziato a cadere. In due ore non ha fatto altro che peggiorare, e dovevo raggiungere la fermata dell’autobus con una folle corsa con delle ballerine ai piedi. Fortunatamente intravidi un ragazzo con un ombrello che mi aiutò nell’impresa. Fu come un miraggio, tra l’altro era italiano e corse con me. Non sapevo neanche il suo nome, ma gli sono sempre riconoscente e quel momento continua a farmi sorridere. Il bus impiegò mezz’ora per raggiungere la mia fermata a causa del traffico, mezz’ora impiegata piacevolmente a chiacchierare con una giovane professoressa di filosofia.  Scesa di lì, dovetti intraprendere un’altra corsa folle con una piccola pausa al Saint Plon per comunicare che ero sopravvissuta e che pensavo di essermela oltretutto cavata con gli esami.  Raggiunta la mia adorata calda cameretta di legno non potevo far finire il mio primo e più intenso, perciò indimenticabile giorno di esami. Uscii ancora, condivisi la pioggia con una persona cara, e festeggiai.  Ovunque vivrò, non troverò una città che mi soddisfi come Bruxelles., dove in un giorno si possono sperimentare tutte le quattro stagioni.  Mi manca la neve intensa nel mese di marzo. Perchè sono nata in Italia? Poi, perchè tutta la migliore letteratura romantica si situa nei paesi più freddi ed è dominata dalle immagini di Cime Tempestose?  La passione, la morte, i fantasmi, e l’eternità non possono essere rappresentati dal sole… E non sono questi elementi i più affascinanti? Più freddo e più tempestoso, più profondo e caldo.

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Culture, Lifestyle

L’amour aux temps des smartphones

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Hier je me suis traînée toute la journée dans une robe en soie chez moi; seule à la maison de mes parents avec tous le conforts possibles je me sentais quand même un peu bohème, en cherchant de rattraper tout ce que j’ai vécu en ce weekend de désolation accompagnée. Je me réveille avec mon chat contre moi à 13 heures car mes voisins ont trouvés un vase cassé en bas et ils donnent la faute à mes invités. C’est très possible, pourtant je suis surprise. Depuis, une séries des conversations s’achèvent dans l’espace de schizophrénie qui caractérise notre siècle, avec toutes ces devices électroniques. J’étais désespérée car la télévision privée ne marchait pas et je voulais donner un sens à cette dimanche traînée dans l’oublie en regardant un beau film. Je me suis approchée des mes DVD en croient enfin de m’ennuyer avec quelques choses de déjà connu mais -surprise!- je rémarque un film que je n’avais pas encore vu, oublié parmis les autres.

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C’étais enfin le bon moment pour en peu de douce tristesse et mélancolie. Tous ceux qui me connaissent connaissent mon attachement et ma sensibilité pour les histoires tristes, les coutumes des autres époques, les chansons d’Aznavour, Notre-Dame de Paris de Richard Cocciante qui me fait frissonner chaque fois. Donc je me suis approchée à ce vidéo comme il y a 3 ans je me suis approchée à “La dame aux camélias”, différemment des “Liaisons dangereuses” car c’est des vrais histoires d’amour et de mort qui me passionnent. Voilà que en regardant le film c’est bien pire et touchant car ça fait rêver de découvrir un homme qui après un véritable coup de foudre envoit des lettres féeriques et demande enfin le mariage pour entendre un oui suivis pourtant du refus de son père. Depuis ça, il attende toute une vie cette femme, souhaitent la mort de son père et de son mari en touchant plus des 600 femmes dans ces navires mais en restant vierge pour elle. 53 ans en attendant que les cloches passent la nouvelle de la mort de ce docteur important qui est son époux, pour quitter sa jeune amant dans le lit et courir vers elle, sans se soucier du doeuil. Enfin, ils peuvent s’aimer.

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“his examination revealed that he had no fever, no pain anywhere, and that his only concrete feeling was an urgent desire to die. All that was needed was shrewd questioning…to conclude once again that the symptoms of love were the same as those of cholera.”

” He aprendido que hay de ser feliz sin amor o a pesar de el amor”

Dans ce monde la dernière phrase est encore plus vrais, c’est tout trop facile et la vie comme la technologie roule à une vitesse incroyable. Mais filles, c’est beau d’être jeunes et rêver, faut exiger une vie worth to be filmed! Ci c’est vrais qu’il n y a pas d’amours hereux c’est vrais que aujord’hui les possibiltés sont encore plus infinies. Moi j’exige des lettres, de la constance, de la dévotion. Comme j’exige d’écrire d’amour dans la langue de l’amour et qui veut comprendre le ferais parce que:

“Éve adorait le soleil
Et le soleil à doré Éve
C’est pourquoi
Dans la langue du plaisir
Reluire
Veut dire jouir
Et le dit.”

Sinon plutot je préfererais me reveiller avec un chat ronronnant.

Votre romantique et peut etre folle, jamais trop idéaliste

Alessandra

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