#Perla's nonsense

[menacingfag]

[perla-speedofsound-adventuring]

I remember in my early days of Tumblr seeing kin lists and being like what the F is a kin list? Y’all think you’re cartoon characters?

I remember I have a post on here being like “y’all idk about kinning but I really like this character :3”

I’ve come to realize, do whatever the heck you want and make a kin list I have an unwritten kin list I wanna write down 😂😂

It’s just like a fun way to connect with characters, certain people take it to their own degrees sure but to me kinning is like oh I resonate with the themes, ideas, vibes, characteristics, etc of this character. This character is a nice way to represent a part of me

[ironychan]

A Little Human (as a Treat)

Part 1/? - Un Voluntario

Part 2/? - Un Escursione

Part 3/? - Una Complicazione

Part 4/? - Una Famiglia

Part 5/? - Una Aiutante

Part 6/? - Una Ricerca

Part 7/? - Un Confronto

Part 8/? - Un'Emergenza

Part 9/? - Una Speranza

Part 10/? - Una Sera

Flavia and Perla help plan a prison break. Silvio tells terrible jokes. Ercole eats a bug. @dysphoria-sweatshirt @writer652

Giglioli returned a few minutes later, red-faced in anger and escorted part of the way by a police officer. About twenty metres from the shop door, Signor Giglioli shrugged the man's hand forcibly off his shoulder and stomped the rest of the way alone.

“A bunch of fools!” he declared as he went back inside. “I don't know how grown adults get caught up in this nonsense, but we have to do something before somebody gets hurt. Have you two heard of mass hysteria?”

Perla and Flavia shook their heads.

“It's when a bunch of people all get in on the same delusion,” Giglioli explained, “and it can lead to terrible consequences. During the middle ages they burned a bunch of people for being witches when there really weren't any such things. I'm not going to watch the same thing happen to supposed 'sea monsters' in my town. Let's get your friends out.”

“Really?” Flavia asked.

“You'll pay their bail?” Perla chimed in.

“They're not going to accept bail,” said Giglioli. “We're going to have to break them out.”

“How?” Flavia wanted to know. “There's so many people.” When she glanced throught he window, the crowd outside the police station seemed bigger than ever. Signorina Mulino's friend Felicia was hanging around in the back of it, asking people questions and getting shaking heads in reply.

Giglioli turned the sign in the window to say chiuso and locked the door, then smiled and ruffled Flavia's hair. “Don't worry, kiddo,” he said. “I know about more things than candy. Before that was the police station, it was Canepa's Drogheria. The wall at the back, where the cell is, is one of the oldest walls in town. It's a good half-metre thick.”

That didn't sound encouraging, but the confectioner didn't seem worried. He led the girls into the back room, the kitchen where the candies were made. A teenage employee was in there cleaning up, but she was focused on scrubbing burnt matter off a cookie sheet, and barely acknowledged Giglioli as he began rummaging in a cupboard under the stairs.

“That whole row of buildings backs onto the old wall,” he continued, moving brooms and buckets out of the way. “The Canepa family used to own the whole thing, but when the place went out of business after the war, they divided into separate units to sell. The police took the one on the left there to make into their station. So while the west wall could keep out an army, the north one is just a single layer of bricks.” He found what he was looking for, and turned to face the girls again, a smile on his face – and a sledgehammer in his hands.

“Are we gonna break through the wall?” gasped Perla, both terrified and delighted.

“We certainly are,” Giglioli told her.

“Won't people hear?” Flavia asked. Surely that would be loud.

“Not as much as you'd think,” the man said. “Stone walls muffle a lot of sound, but we do need a distraction, something else for all those rubberneckers to pay attention to. I believe your grandmother is looking for you, Signorina Pepitone,” he said to Perla, mock-stern.

“You think people need to come hunting for us instead of looking for the sea monsters?” Perla guessed.

He nodded.

“So we need to hide somewhere, and have everybody come find us,” said Flavia.

“Yes, exactly. Where do you two think you can go where people will believe you're in trouble and they'll all go to look for you?”

Perla thought about it. “If we were up somewhere high, Flavia would have trouble getting down.”

“I'm not going up anywhere high!” Flavia protested. She did some thinking of her own, and got an idea. “What about out on the water? If we went out in a boat on our own to find more sea monsters, people would be worried about us, right?” Children never went on boats alone – Flavia was pretty sure of that.

“That's a good idea as long as you two know how to be safe about it,” said Signor Giglioli. “Do you?”

“Yes!” said Perla eagerly. “You have to wear a life jacket so if you fall in you won't sink!”

“And you can both swim?”

“I can!” said Perla, “and Flavia definitely can!”

Flavia herself wasn't so sure about that. She had no idea how humans swam without tails, and wondered if Ciccio had much trouble figuring it out. She did know what a life jacket was, though. She'd once found one floating on the surface of the Gulf, far from land, and Papa Giorgio had told her it was something humans wore to keep their heads above the water. After nearly choking when she'd first transformed, that was definitely a good idea.

“Then let's find you a boat,” said Giglioli. “We'll also need one more person, who can tell everyone where you are. Remember, I'm going to be the one knocking the wall down.”

Perla and Flavia exchanged a glance. Who could they use? Flavia didn't have any ideas – she didn't know anybody in this town except for Perla and her family.

But Perla smiled. “I know exactly who!” she declared.

-

By this time, Signora Pepitone and her son had finished telling their story to the police. Leonardo Scorfano suspected they'd embroidered it somewhat – if nothing else, sea monsters didn't have horns and none of the kids were anywhere near ten feet tall in either form – but there was very little he could do besides stand there and wince every time Dionisia brought the subject up. When somebody actually asked him a question, he had to reply that he hadn't arrived until all this was already underway, and hadn't seen any of it.

Worse, the police were failing to keep the curious public out of things. Several people had come right into the front office using one excuse or another, and it was hard to miss that they kept sidling closer to the door that led to the cell room. Leonardo took it upon himself to make sure they got no further, leaning against said door and glaring at people who came too close.

One boy of about fifteen or sixteen was particularly insistent, coming closer and closer and watching Leonardo like a hawk. Leonardo glared directly at him and folded his arms, letting the boy know he wasn't going to budge.

“Come on,” the boy whined finally. “I just want to see the sea monsters.”

“My daughter is missing and you're worried about sea monsters?” Leonardo said.

The boy at least had the grace to look ashamed of himself.

Signora Pepitone was still sitting at the desk across from the tall police officer, and she frowned at Leonardo. “They've got to be connected,” she insisted. “That's the only other odd thing that's happened today. Don't you see it?”

“Madame, please, try to calm down,” the police officer sighed. “To find them, we'll need full descriptions of both girls...”

The boy trying to get around Leonardo looked over his shoulder. “The sea monsters took your daughter?” he asked.

“No,” said Leonardo. “Not necessarily, anyway. Nobody saw what happened so we...”

“We do know, that's what I keep saying!” Signora Pepitone interrupted. “I'm getting the idea you think I'm mad, Signor Scorfano, but I'm telling you, I know what I saw at the zoo, and...”

“It can't have been the sea monsters, though,” said the boy.

“Nobody's asking you,” the police officer informed him. “In fact, I think you should leave.”

“But I saw them!” said the boy.

“The sea monsters?” Leonardo asked.

“No, the girls,” the boy said. “At least, I saw Signora Pepitone's granddaughter, and there was another girl with her...”

Leonardo stood up straight. “Where were they?” he asked, his heart suddenly thumping.

“They were in the Signorina Mulino's French pastry shop,” the boy said. “They were in there sitting with a woman in blue. Perla Pepitone in a polka-dot dress, and a friend with short dark hair, right?”

Leonardo looked at Dionisia, and saw the shock on her face – this was the first she'd heard of this, either. She jumped up to talk to the boy face to face. “What were they doing? Was there anyone else?” she asked.

“They were eating cookies and talking to this lady... I think some friend of Signorina Mulino's,” the boy said. “She was wearing a blue dress. But it can't have been the sea monsters who took them away,” he added, “because I went in there to tell my brother, he works there, that they'd been caught. The sea monsters were already locked up, and the girls weren't with them.”

Signora Pepitone just stared at him, until Leonardo came to put a hand on the boy's shoulder. “You're sure,” he said.

“Totally sure,” the boy insisted. “I know Perla, because I've seen her bothering Pietro for free treats. She said if the sea monsters were caught, then it's safe and they could go, and they ran off.”

Leonardo let out a quiet relieved sigh. That didn't tell them where the girls had gone, but at least it was proof that Alberto and his friends weren't involved – proof nobody could deny. “What did I tell you?” he asked Dionisia.

She sat down again, eyes wide with apparent shock. “Where could they have gone, then?”

“I don't know,” the boy said. “Maybe they told Signorina Mulino.”

“We'd better go find her, then,” said Leonardo. At last, here was something to go on. “Maybe she can tell us...”

That was when the door opened, and a new person entered the room, panting and indignant after having elbowed her way through the crowd outside. This was a tall, thin woman in blue, with her hair under a kerchief. “Excuse me!” she said. “I need to get to... who is Signora Pepitone?”

“I am!” Signora Pepitone turned around.

“That's her!” the boy who'd seen the girls exclaimed, pointing to the newcomer. “That's the lady who was with the girls at the Patisserie!”

The newcomer nodded. “Céline asked me to watch them,” she said. “I've been following them half the evening but they keep getting away, but I've found them at last. They said they wanted to find these sea monsters everybody's talking about, and they've gone out on a boat.”

“What?” asked Signora Pepitone.

“What?” Leonardo said at the same time. A dozen horrible images danced in front of his eyes. Flavia had probably never seen a human swim. She wouldn't know how to keep her head out of the water. Did she even know she couldn't breath it anymore? No... no, she must know that, she'd come up gasping and sputtering when she first transformed. But she knew nothing about boats. What if she fell overboard?

What was she even trying to do? Was she hoping there were local sea monsters who could help them somehow? How was she planning to contact them when she knew she couldn't get in the water?

Maybe Massimo would notice them, but it was also entirely possible he wouldn't. What was Massimo doing right now? Had he figured out the kids weren't down there or was he still looking?

Signora Pepitone was equally distressed, but for a very different reason. “They went out on the water?” she asked, pale. “When they know there's sea monsters? Or... good heavens, were they lured.” She turned to another man, a tall fellow with red hair. “There's a painting in that museum of yours, the sirens luring the sailors!”

“That there is, Ma'am,” the man replied with a nod. He swallowed.

The woman in the blue dress, gestured for everybody to follow her. “They haven't got far yet. I'd've gone to get them myself but I can't swim. Come and see! Oh, I hope the sea monsters haven't found them yet!”

She led the way outside, with the intrigued crowd surging after her. Leonardo should have gone with them, but he kind of wanted to stay by the door, in case somebody else tried to go in and harass the kids. With everybody else gone, maybe Leonardo could have a proper conversation with them and piece this all together. Maybe he could even find the key and let them out, although he'd want to be really sure nobody was watching...

“Hurry, Signor Scorfano!” Signora Pepitone called from the street outside.

“I'm coming, Dionisia!” he replied. But once the room was empty, he went and tried the door that led to the room with the cell.

Of course it was locked – that was hardly even surprising. He had to find the key. Leonardo looked around, and his eyes went to the desk where the younger of the two on-duty police officers had been sitting until he, too, had gotten up to follow the woman in blue. When he opened the top drawer, Leonardo found it full of papers and pens. He started rummaging around, looking for keys.

As he did so, he heard the first thump.

Leonardo looked up. He was a lone in the room, and nothing seemed to have moved. Maybe something had fallen in an upper storey, or off a roof. He shook his head, and closed the first drawer before opening a second.

There was another thump. Then a third. This time, when Leonardo raised his head, it was in time to see a photo of the town's police force (all four of them) fall from the wall. Another thump made dust drift down from the ceiling. There was a sound like ceramic breaking.

With a chill, he realized that whatever was going on, it was happening in the cell room. Leonardo shut the drawer and rattled the handle again, then threw himself shoulder-first against the door. If he had to break it down to get to those kids, he would.

-

In the cell, the kids and Signor Macarello also heard a series of thumps, but unlike Uncle Leonardo, they could tell exactly where it was coming from – the wall on their left, where the police station butted up against the old greengrocers. Somebody was hitting it repeatedly with something heavy, making the whole wall shake and buckle. They got up and crowded against the other wall, worried the building would fall down on them.

After a few more thumps, a brick fell out and broke on the floor. Then a second. Then the head of a giant hammer came through, and the person on the other side used it as a hook to pull more bricks back towards himself. Soon there was a hole big enough to wriggle through, and a face appeared in it.

Luca couldn't believe his eyes. “Signor Giglioli!” he exclaimed, then immediately regretted it as somebody began shaking the door to the rest of the station. A moment later he realized that was silly – it was much more likely the sound of bricks falling had alerted them, rather than Luca's cry. It didn't matter, though. Whoever was outside shook the door harder, and then began trying to break it down.

“Hurry!” Giglioli held out a hand.

Giulia was the first to take it and wriggle through the opening. Luca came after her, and then helped pull out another couple of bricks so Alberto would fit. They dragged him through, but then the door burst open, and there was nothing they could do for Antonio. Giglioli herded the kids through an open grate in the floor, and pulled it shut after him.

“Can't stay here!” he said, reaching between the bars to replace a padlock that had been holding the grate shut. “Follow me!”

“What about Signor Macarello?” Alberto protested. He'd been nothing but helpful, even when he was obviously terrified. They couldn't just leave him.

“We'll have to come back for him,” Giglioli said. He turned on an electric torch, and ushered them through a door into another part of the old Drogheria basement, stacked with old fruit and egg crates. This door, too, he contrived to lock behind himself. “Maybe in the morning, when they've all calmed down and realized you're not sea monsters.”

The kids had begun to follow him further through the dark maze of basements, but now they stopped short. Signor Giglioli kept going and reached the next door, then realized they weren't there anymore and looked back, puzzled.

There was a moment of awkward silence. Voices could be heard shouting overhead, muffled by the stone and earth in between.

“What's the matter?” asked Giglioli.

Luca swallowed. “Um, Sir?” he said.

“We... kind of are sea monsters,” Giulia said.

Giglioli blinked. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, in a voice half-confused, half-insulted. “Kids, I just broke you out of jail. This is hardly the time to...”

Luca's stomach sank right down to his toes as he remembered what he'd said to Flavia earlier in the day... he'd thought Signor Giglioli wouldn't mind if he found out they were sea monsters. Had he been mistaken? Should they just take it back and lie? If they did that, though, Signor Giglioli wouldn't realize just how much trouble they were in here. He looked at Alberto.

Alberto sighed and, feeling rather like one of the animals in the zoo, transformed.

For a moment Signor Giglioli didn't realize it had happened, but when he realized both Luca and Giulia were looking at their friend, he turned to see why, and the electric torch fell from his hand. It rolled a metre or so across the uneven stone floor, and came to rest at Alberto's flippered feet. Alberto picked it up and offered it back to him, and Giglioli took it without a word. For what seemed like a very long time, nobody spoke.

“Are you going to put us back in jail now, Sir?” Luca asked timidly.

That seemed to bring Giglioli back to his senses. “Of course not!” he said. “If I try I'll end up in there with you. Anyway, you haven't done anything to deserve being locked up.” He paused. “Have you?”

“No, Sir!” said Luca. The others shook their heads in agreement as Alberto let go of his transformation and resumed human form. “We just wanted to show Flavia around. She's never been on land before.”

“Really? Huh.” Giglioli thought about that. “Well, I'm honoured you brought her to my place, then. All right, let's get you back to the shop. You can hide out there until everybody goes to bed.”

“What about Flavia?” Alberto asked, as they fell into step behind him again. “Uncle Leonardo will kill me if we don't bring her back.”

“She and Perla are currently providing a distraction so fewer people would hear me breaking that wall down,” said Giglioli. “They've probably been 'rescued' by now. Dionisia Pepitone is a little odd, but when she's not wailing about sea monsters she...”

He stopped mid-sentence. Luca nearly walked right into his back.

“I guess Flavia is a sea monster, too,” said Giglioli.

“That's complicated,” said Giulia.

“Complicated?” Giglioli raised an eyebrow as he looked back over his shoulder at her. “How complicated can it possibly be?”

“You'd be amazed,” said Alberto.

“All right,” sighed Giglioli. “We'll figure something out.”

-

While all these dramatic events went on in San Giuseppe, off the coast of Portorosso Ciccio and Ercole were sweeping out construction debris that had found its way into the Donzella house earlier in the day. The physics of doing this underwater were somewhat complicated and did very much require both of them to make sure no bits got away. Worse, Signora Donzella hovered over them and watched, and Ciccio expected at any moment to be asked how he could have gotten to his age without learning how to sweep a floor.

But she didn't seem to have noticed at all. She offered a shell full of what first appeared to be gumballs, until Ciccio realized they were actually colourful, sowbug-like creatures.

“Would you like some isopods?” she asked.

“Grazie, Signora,” said Ciccio, and popped one into his mouth to see what it was like. It turned out to be much like a gumball after all, with a crunchy shell and a soft inside that was both salty and sweet.

Ercole must have figured if Ciccio ate one then it must be all right. He took a handful for himself and started to much on them, only to make a sudden muffled noise of pain and spit one back out again. Now uncurled, the little creature turned itself right side up and swam away, wiggling its many legs.

“Oh, dear,” said Signora Donzella. “You do have to bite them before they bite you.”

Ercole stared at her in utter horror for a few moments, before remembering that he had another isopod still in his mouth. He looked at Ciccio, who calmly looked him right in the eye while taking another isopod out of the dish, placing it between his teeth, and biting down. Ercole took the message, and swallowed what remained of his, whole.

Signora Donzella smiled as she surveyed their work. “That's so much better,” she said. “You know, you boys really didn't need to go to the trouble, especially after you worked so hard earlier today.”

“Yeah, we really didn't,” Ercole said pointedly to Ciccio.

“It's no trouble, Signora,” Ciccio said cheerfully. “We wouldn't want to be rude.”

“You know,” said Ercole, “when humans have guests they don't expect them to do anything. All the chores are the host's job.”

“Really? I didn't know that,” said Giorgia pleasantly, then looked a bit worried. “Arturo's aunts do have him and Silvio do some garden work in exchange for watching the football games. Is that all right?”

“Its' fine,” Ciccio assured her. “I'm pretty sure Concetta and Pinuccia work by sea monster rules.”

Silvio himself darted through the door then, and the first thing he saw was the shell full of snacks. “Ooh, isopods!” he said, and went to help himself.

“Where've you been off to?” his mother asked him.

Silvio put several of the tiny arthropods in his mouth at once and crunched on them, leading Ercole to make several horrified faces. “I went to give Signora Trota her shovel back,” he said.

“Oh, yes, I'd forgotten that,” said Giorgia. “Good job for remembering.” She moved the dish away as her son reached for more isopods. “These are for our guests.”

“It's fine, Signora,” Ciccio told her. “Like I said, we're not that hungry.”

“Then I'll put these away, or they'll all be gone by tomorrow.” Signora Donzella shooed at Silvio, and swam off into the kitchen.

Ciccio and Ercole both took advantage of her absence immediately: Ercole by theatrically coughing and gasping and spitting out isopod legs that had gotten caught between his teeth, and Ciccio by pulling Silvio closer to talk to him.

“Did you tell Giordana where we are?” Ciccio asked. He was pretty sure that returning the borrowed shovel had just been an excuse, and Silvio's actual purpose had been to let the Trota children know what was going on.

He was right. “I told Arturo to tell her,” Silvio confirmed. “He said she's worried about you.”

That made Ciccio feel a little better. “Are they gonna be allowed on land anymore?” If they weren't... Ciccio didn't know what he'd do.

“Arturo's Mom didn't say, and him and Giordana are both too scared to ask,” Silvio said. He turned his head suddenly towards the door. “Hey, did you see that?”

“See what?” asked Ciccio.

“The light in the kelp.” Silvio went to the doorway to look outside. “It flashed twice and now it's gone. Maybe it's the giant squid!” he whispered excitedly. “Did you hear people talking about it?”

Ercole scoffed. “It was the only thing the servants talked about at dinner. I think you're all making it up to frighten me.”

“We had one here once,” said Silvio. “Ages ago. I wasn't hatched yet.”

“Giordana told me about it once,” Ciccio agreed. He hadn't been consciously thinking about that when he'd chosen it was something to threaten Ercole with it, but it must've been in the back of his mind.

“Dad said he and Mom had to take my egg and hide in the forge,” Silvio went on. “Giant squid usually live in the cold water out base Gibilterra, so they don't like when it gets too warm.” He turned to Ercole. “And they're not very fast, so probably even you could outswim one. Probably.”

“Don't try to bully me, Squaletto,” said Ercole. “It doesn't suit you.”

With the cleanup done to Signora Donzella's satisfaction, she led them out to the newly roofed barn, bringing along a string of softly glowing jellyfish which she towed by the tentacles like a bundle of balloons. Inside, her husband had set out mats of sponges and seaweed, and filled an old honey jar with bioluminescent plankton so they'd have a lantern.

“Here you go, boys,” he said. “I hope you'll be comfortable. If you need anything, you can wake up Junior.”

Ercole had just opened his mouth, presumably to ask why there were three sleeping mats instead of two. With the question answered before it could be asked, he closed it again and watched Silvio settle down on the nearest mat and grin.

“It'll be like camping out!” Silvio said happily.

“Thank you,” said Ciccio firmly. “I hope you guys can come up and visit us at the bakery sometimes.”

“We should,” said Silvio. “The bread him and Giordana make is really yummy. My favourite is the kind with the olives, but the one with the sardines is also great!”

“We should try putting isopods in it,” said Ciccio, mostly to gross Ercole out. It worked.

“Nah,” Silvio said. “They go mushy when you cook them.”

Ercole covered his mouth with one had, as if afraid he would throw up.

Giorgia Donzella gave her son a kiss on the cheek and wished him a good night, and her husband reminded the boy that he was responsible for looking after their guests. Then the adults left the three boys alone to settle down and sleep. Ciccio considered the bedding he'd been given, and decided he'd better sleep on his stomach. He still had sponge pieces all over his spines, but if any of those came off he might rip the mat to shreds. That was no way to thank the Donzellas for their hospitality.

Silvio was also on his stomach, but in his case it was because his stiff, shark-like dorsal fin could not fold down out of the way. Ercole was having no trouble lying on his back, although it took a bit of squirming for him to find a comfortable position without pinning his fin under his shirt.

“I hope Papá manages to sleep all right,” said Ciccio. Ottonello had been very specific about not wanting Ciccio spending the night underwater, but here he was, doing exactly that. It sounded as if he spent a lot more time worrying about Ciccio in general than he normally admitted.

“I could go tell him you're here,” Silvio suggested. “He knows Dad and me.”

Ciccio propped himself up on his elbows to look at the younger boy. His first reaction was that might be a good idea. Just knowing where Ciccio was would probably help a lot – but there was a problem. “Is it safe to go out by yourself after dark?” he asked.

“Normally I'm not allowed,” Silvio admitted, “but Mom and Dad said you could ask me for anything you needed.” He grinned mischievously. “I could talk to your parents, too,” he suggested to Ercole, “if you tell me where to find them.”

“Don't you dare,” said Ercole immediately.

“He doesn't want anybody to know this happened to him,” Ciccio said.

“And my parents won't care anyway,” Ercole added. “I've been away overnight before. They figure I'll get home when I get home. Sometimes I think if I just disappeared they wouldn't even look for me.”

“Really?” asked Ciccio. He knew very little about Ercole's relationship with his parents, having only met them once or twice. They'd seemed very permissive, even indulgent. He would not have thought of them as neglectful. Had Ercole spent the whole day wondering whether his parents would care if he never came back?

Ercole glared at him, and his tone changed abruptly. “They trust me,” he huffed, “unlike some parents who yap at their children's heels everywhere they go and send their friends to spy on them. Anyway, don't you say a word to them or anyone else,” he told Silvio. “If anyone in the town finds out about this, I will never be taken seriously again.”

Ciccio snorted. As if anybody took Ercole seriously anymore.

“Your secret's safe with me,” said Silvio cheerfully. He wiggled a little, getting his toes into the end of the sponge mat to stretched it out a bit. “Hey, why is the ocean blue?” he asked.

“How should I know?” Ercole said. “I think it's something to do with reflecting the sky.”

Silvio rolled his eyes. “It's blue because the land never waves back!”

There was a moment of silence as Ciccio and Ercole both figured out what that meant. Then Ercole snorted, and Ciccio groaned at the pun.

“Why did the lobster turn red?” Silvio tried next.

“Because they dumped it into boiling water, still alive,” snarled Ercole.

“Why?” Ciccio asked.

Silvio giggled. “Because it saw the ocean's bottom!”

This time Ciccio could help a snicker, even as Ercole scoffed.

“What's the strongest creature in the sea?” Silvio tried next.

“What?” asked Ciccio.

“A mussel!”

Ercole let out a bark of laughter, then quickly silenced himself. “Not bad, Squaletto,” he admitted grudgingly. “Not bad.”

[jaz-it-up]

does anyone else remember the deep lore gigaverse video that ren made

according to ren's gigaverse lore, empires and hermitcraft exist within the same region of the galaxy. so the rift isn't inter-dimensional, it's just inter-planetary.

would that make all of the changes that happened to the hermits - the shrinking, santa perla, sun god bdubs, undead(?) ren, etc - just evolutionary adaptations for the hermits? if so, why? what is it about the hermits, or the hermitcraft solar system, or whatever it is, that causes such a widespread and varied reaction to what is arguably not that much different of a planet than hc-9?

moreover, when the empires folks traveled to hc-9, why did fwhip turn human?

there's something weird about planet hc-9, or possibly even the hermitcraft solar system as a whole, and tbh writers and artists should do more with that

idk it's almost 3am this could be nonsense i just found my gigaverse notes and went apeshit

[libriaco]

Il bello delle riunioni

Per chi ama le frasi vuote e i nonsense, non è mai inutile prendere appunti durante una riunione. E poi, ogni tanto (tutto può succedere) il grembo grande e generoso della lingua regala una perla, un giro di parole inaspettato o piacevole, che ripaga di tutti quei pomeriggi passati ad ascoltare fuffa.

C. Maier, [Bonjour paresse: De l'art et de la nécessité d'en faire le moins possible en entreprise, 2004], Bonjour laziness. Why hard work doesn't pay [Trad. dal francese di S. Hawkes], New York, Vintage Books - Random House, 2005

[ellytraoflight]

so pearl from hermitcraft season 8 is A Literal God, madre de girasoles, Santa Perla. 

pearl from hermitcraft season 9 is a cleaning lady who lives in a dumpster who has no idea about any of this god nonsense.

hermitcraft seasons 8 and 9 have some continuity to them as established by some of the other hermits, though it’s unknown if this applies to pearl.

so either: 

1) the empires/afterlife version of pearl, who is a god, is not actually hcs8!pearl, she was just chilling in pearl’s season 8 house for shits and giggles. Pearl from Hermitcraft seasons 8 and 9 are the same Pearl, but the god Pearl is not related to season 8 Pearl in any way. We still wouldn’t know why Santa Perla decided to make her home in season 8 Pearl’s base.

2) the empires/afterlife version of pearl, who is a god, is hcs8!pearl, but from a separate dimension than the pearl who comes through the rift in empires season 2/hermitcraft season 9. There are two “alternate realities”: one in which hcs8!pearl is the empires/afterlife god, and one in which she isn’t. The Pearl who came through the rift is from the reality in which season 8 and 9 Pearl are the same, and she is not a god. There exists another, “alternate” Pearl in the empires/afterlife universe that is another version of season 8 Pearl, only this one is a god. This means that hermitcraft and empires are two worlds that exist in the same universe; however, the hermits that crossed over using the rift are not from that same universe, but from a separate, alternate universe. 

3) hermitcraft season 8 pearl and hermitcraft season 9 pearl are not the same Pearl. One is a god in empires and afterlife, while the other is a cleaning lady. This doesn’t explain why Pearl adopted her old empires outfit when she went through the rift. maybe the universe got confused.

[convexicalcrow]

Snowflake Challenge #6 In your own space, post the results of your fandom scavenger hunt. Leave a comment in this post saying you did it. Include a link to your post if you feel comfortable doing so.

This one looked super fun, and I'm doing both physical stuff as well as a few digital things, bc for some of these I had more than one thing I wanted to share so. :D

Search in your current space, whether brick-and-mortar or digital. Post a picture or description of something that is or represents:

A favorite character

Sausage and Santa Perla oml <3

I can't list one without the other ofc. Sausage's lore captivated me in Empires s1, and hasn't let go yet. The lore he's running in Empires s2 is just incredible. It's made me cry far too many times, and I'm just so invested in whatever the hell he's got going on. Also I love a good excuse for religious world-building, and having Santa Perla to work with has been so fun. <3 I'm really looking forward to what Pearl decides to do with her side of the lore now that she remembers as well.

2. Something that makes you laugh

It's Mark Watson, Alex Horne, and Tim Key! This is collectively representing them as a group of friends and just doing stupid shit together, but also No More Jockeys, Mark's long shows, Key's works, and the non-Taskmaster stuff Alex does, though there's not much outside of the Horne Section these days lol, he's a busy boy.

For digital things, may I offer the following: - Longform: Big Fat Quiz 2015. It starts off fairly sensible then gets derailed by bad dong, and only gets more off-track from there. A classic. - Shortform: Carrot In A Box. Need I say more. rip Sean Lock, you bastard genius. </3 - TV series: 15 Storeys High, Sean Lock's sitcom from way back when. It was rec'd to me by a friend, and I don't regret finding a copy to download bc it's so good. <3 - TV series: This Is Jinsy, weird, full of songs, nonsense and whimsy, def worth tracking down a copy of this show. It's so good. Makes me laugh so much. <3 Greg Davies in drag is also a lovely touch lol.

3. A bookshelf

These are the Taskmaster books that still exist. I tore up an awful lot of them to make 1000 paper cranes a few years ago. XD Also have some Key and Horne and Watson. <3 The three books on the far left are my current reading material.

4. A game or hobby you enjoy

iykyk >_>

(and yes at some point I will be making a Dinnerbone nametag for that blue sheep :D)

5. Something you find comforting

Cub omg. <3 I just find his voice so soothing and comforting, and bingeing through his episodes or watching his streams is very comforting for me. I'm really enjoying all the daily speedrunning streams atm bc they're on when I'm awake during the mornings for me, so I can have breakfast and chill with Cub and it's so so nice. <3

6. A TV show or movie you hope more people will watch

Double The Fist is an old Aussie TV comedy that I maintain is actually a metanarrative about the intersections of queerness, homophobia, and toxic masculinity (ESPECIALLY in the second series) that I am woefully inadequately skilled enough to actually write on, but trust me bro, everyone in the main cast is some flavour of queer and I'm here for it. It's very good.

bonus shout out for Set The Thames On Fire, bc it's such a good movie and more of you need to see it frfr. <3 There were some really, really interesting headcanons going around linking Noel's character in this movie back to his character in The Mighty Boosh as a bonus if you like that kind of thing.

7. A piece of clothing you love

look I won't be able to wear these for like another four months but they are super comfy and I adore them so much. <3

also yeah I didn't take these out of my chest of drawers bc lazy and also I live in a dark cave of a room, the lighting is terrible everywhere. XD

8. A thing from an old fandom

The Prisoner! Dhani Harrison got me onto this bc he named his band thenewno2, I adored their music, and when I looked them up, discovered what it was named after, and then I dived right in and fell in love with it. I can't remember which specific episode order I prefer out of the five or so that exist, but yeah!

I've written crossovers with The Prisoner for my last 2/3 fandoms, so maybe I'll get there for Hermitcraft one day. :D?

9. A thing from a new fandom

ConVex my beloveds <3

If you want to know why they took over my brain, I would like to point you at this 3min edit of ConVex lore and let you take it all in. :D They're insane, I love them so much. XD

[the-whispers-of-death]

So Vidalia is currently stuck in a basement and usually either Jean or Karina or someone else will feed her 3 times a day

Cairo won't do it and he sure as hell won't let his kids do it

But Perla and Sayaka are teenagers. Reckless teenagers so often times they'll bring their mom food earlier so no one catches them

Because they are both reckless and still somewhat attached their mom (even tho as a last attempt for power she tried half assing and rushing a spell by attempting to sacrifice Sayaka but wtv)

They'll bring Vidalia her favorite food and try to spark up a conversation only for their own mother to get mad at them because she's powerless and caged up

Spouting nonsense about how if the sacrifice worked she could've easily made another daughter to replace Renée and how Cairo is a sentimental and illogical fool and how Sayaka should've just let her sacrifice her for the good of the family

Perla has to escort Sayaka out while both of them are damn near in tears and Cairo is extremely pissed at both of them for disobeying his rules

Eventually both of them are grounded fod a week and have to clean the entire house and can't go scavenging

-🔮

Stone, calling up Orinothicor: So... On a scale of one to ten, how willing are you to kill a mortal?

Orinothicor, who's exasperated at how much Stone is calling him and is lowkey regretting giving Stone the ability to summon him: Stone, I'm not going to kill a mortal. I've long since abandoned the mortal realm almost completely.

Stone: ....Even if the mortal in question is a mother who tried sacrificing her children not once, but twice?

Orinothicor: ....I think Sashithia wouldn't mind making a trip of the mortal realm.

Anyways, haha, why did you give me the angst??? Now I gotta think of a universe where Sashithia, self-proclaimed protector of children, gets justice for the Ryobi daughters by eating Vidalia.

Why is Cairo keeping her alive again??

[sleeplessandstubborn]

Emily in Paris episode 3 or it’s still more accurate than American media recent coverture on France.

Ah, I had to write that title. And I am not even talking about American Twitter. But yeah. Feel better. Somewhat I have the impression that this is going to substitute the still a better love story than Twilight in my mind. But, I’m sorry, Stephenie Meyer, I am not here for that but to make a belated, totally improvised, not at all completely planned recap of Episode 3 of Emily in Paris, your favourite Instagram version of the French capital.

So episode 3 starts with our heroine running, as she usually does every morning. Why this Paris is more empty than the town where I live which has like 25,000 inhabitants? So many questions about where did people go. The case is her boss in Chicago calls. Yes, the one who speaks French and should be now best friends with Sylvie but it’s stuck in Chicago with her pregnancy.

I know, Madeline, I know. It would be frustrating for me too that the main trait of my personality was I’m pregnant and on my bed. They both exchange about how now that Doug dumped her Emily’s life is full of croissants and sex, when actually is about sex. Also Emily meets street furniture. As does Madeline, too. I guess that’s not the kind of idea she had of meeting French men. Thanks Anne! Hidalgo of course.

Madeline is sending Emily the corporate commandments for Savoir. Yikes, I thought again, a cultural clash is coming and what are corporate commandments anyway (I don’t know, sounds tacky, I’m just a puzzled European), but for now there are another problems to solve. Emily’s shower breaks, the building manager only speaks French and of course our leading lady is still struggling with understanding it. Also, sidenote: manager building is right with Miss Cooper. Only problems.

Fortunately Gabriel exists and he helps her to break the language barrier. But this isn’t going to magically repair her shower and so Emily has to wash her hair in one of humanity’s wonders, one apex of civilization, the bidet. It’s supposed to be a bad hair day for her afterwards but... Does she look that different? Well, not for me! Discuss:

This shows... A character development! At last! Emily is trying to learn French, and even if her beret isn’t going to help in the task, is good to see she’s trying to adapt. Still, she’s overdoing a bit with that Gioconda bag.

I mean, girl. Relax. In order to improve her knowledge, she tries to trick her teacher - who considers a working place full of French people must be an interesting environment where to study the behaviour of the Emily Cooperius Chicagoensis but refuses the pleasure of her company if there’s not a 50 euros banknote in between. Business is business after all. Cut to Emily reuniting with my adored godess Sylvie, whose elegance and beauty only can be matched with the flag of the twelve stars in the background. Ah, Freude, schöner Götterfunken/ Tochter aus Elysium,/ Wir betreten feuertrunken/ Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!

Well, the case is they are going to film the advertisement for De l’Heure today and it’s an important thing Emily keeps her mouth closed and unsmiling because she looks stupid, at least in Sylvie’s opinion. I’d say more scary but well.

Luc and Julien receive them with the enraged face of every European citizen who just met an aggresive attempt  of being forced into the American Way of Doing Things. Which they refuse naturally. Madeline just sent the corporate commandments and everyone is pissed at nonsense like giving praise in public and critizising in private. But off to filming the spot for the perfume. The location is the Pont d’Alexandre III that has featured in like 20,000 advertisement for fragrances. Here they met Antoine and Emily has the twentieth humiliating experience with languages telling she’s horny out of a sudden when she wanted to mean excited.

Emily meets the model, a Serbian blonde beauty that doesn’t speak French, that’s her personality trait. Our heroine seems rejoiced to find at least a kindred soul but we won’t have more time with the model, whose task is to walk across the bridge naked - or wearing the perfume, Antoine says - , while surrounded by men in costumes. The campaign Dream of Beauty, in short. Emily’s reaction is this:

Antoine argues this is meant to represent the woman’s fantasy, to be desired by all these men. Emily doesn’t think this is going to be appreciated by women at the other side of the Atlantic ocean and says the idea is sexists rather than sexy. Filming stop for they to debate, which seems expensive. Stopping, not debating. Without entering on what fantasies are valid or not and who actually pays attention to advertisements for fragrances - I am not one of these people - we don’t get to learn if Emily knows who Cocteau was.

The following morning the plumber can’t fix Emily’s shower. His gestures are pretty easy to understand, as it’s an universal fact that often the pieces needed to repair are not immediately available. Anyway, Emily asks Gabriel to help her with translation again. She must pay him or something. The thing doesn’t get to be fixed and Emily gets to shower in Gabriel’s appartment.

Maybe he has a fantasy of some sort here? Who knows. At the office and after her class, Emily’s first conversation of the day with Sylvie goes, as usual, for a rocky start. She has made lost money and time to the company, her boss argues, and on top of that she’s the prude police. The final straw for Emily immediately after that is that someone (called Luc) drew a dick on the Sacred Corporate Commandments. Having forgotten the fact that drawing penises is part of the human nature since the dawn of times, Emily doesn’t take well the profanation. It’s too much so she goes to lunch with Mindy.

Mindy - who is celebrating a party later and invites her - rolls her eyes at the corporate commandments and more or less say she deserves the hate because she could not expect French people were going to receive that gladly because they are against all. Well, it’s one of their multiple charms. “People like me! That’s my thing!” , Emily argues. Oh my sweet Summer child... Once back at the office, the commercial is as nonsensical as your average perfume commercial. Emily suggests a poll on Twitter to decide if it’s sexy or sexists. Bad or good, they’ll have publicity. Sounds about right?

One day I want to be Sylvie when she answers, after Emily invited her to Mandy’s party: Sorry, I’m busy. Also when she goes on with a mini the reason you suck moment: “You come to Paris. You walk into my office. You don’t even bother to learn the language. You treat the city like it’s your amusement park”. Apparently Emily can’t wrap her head around the idea of not everyone liking her and that you don’t have why to be friends with your bosses or workmates. Girl, just a civilized relationship with them is enough. Anyway... Emily does invite her, incapable of taking a no for an answer.

As predictable - don’t say you didn’t predict it - the party is a bit crowded and, leaving aside Mindy, Emily doesn’t know anyone there. Because, Sylvie knowing better, she didn’t show up. Well done Madame. Out of water again, Emily finds an apparently cute boy who engages in a conversation with her. With hand kissing at the balcony at all.

All it’s very romantic until, when they are strolling the streets and after flirting a bit, Fabien I think was his name - sorry, not checking again - tells her he likes American pussies. This is too much information all of a sudden for Emily - even if it could lead her to learn another the meaning of a new French word, equally related with felines - and storms off to Gabriel’s restaurant. Why is a thing the chef is there, available to serve her a glass of wine, I don’t know, I didn’t write this thing. But finally, finally, FINALLY our heroine says she’s going to stop trying being liked by everyone. Thank you Paris, you inspired some adult realities on Emily’s brain. It’s also a productive night after all because Gabriel says he likes her. So... yay? Since many of you have already seen the complete season, you know that things are... more complicated than that.

Of course the last three minutes of the episode are reserved for Emily Was Right After All moments. The poll is a success even if the commercial is not universally liked - but as Emily has learn this is not that important anymore -, she takes revenge on Luc bringing a dick shaped bread, or cake - I don’t know exactly what it is - which is a funny and irreverent way to respond him aaaand... finds a present from Antoine on her desk, lingerie from La Perla. Which is, ew, a bit creepy.

Aaaand that was all. I had to rewatch it because it had been eras since I last wrote about this series. I promise to be more disciplined with the next ones. Until then.

P.S. Down with Corporation Commandments.

[xesotericconundrumx]

{ zoey deutch, female, she/her } have you heard that ( sasha james ) from ( the magnus archives ) appeared in town?  i know, i can’t believe it either.  she is ( 27 ) years old and are a ( librarian at ivywood university ).  I’ve heard that she has a tendency to be ( warm and intelligent ) and ( too trusting and brash ), and they have ( some ) of their old memories.  

she is only a tragedy. she is a tragedy wearing a smile filled with hope that somehow her story will turn out better, that maybe this choice will lead to something else. it never does. overlooked, overworked, under appreciated, under everyone. she was pushed aside. and she wonders why. there are days when she sits on a bench in the park, rain dripping down her face she wonders why she overlooked. she’s better. she’s smarter. she’s a threat. with a warm heart, bright smile, with a charming demeanor she’d see right through the deception she would have gotten in the way. just add her to the stories, what makes her the perfect heroine in one story made her the victim in this one. 

spoilers for the magnus archive podcast. tw: horror and murder

meet sasha james

sasha grew up in a pleasant home in the little village of hope cove, in devon england.

her parents were innkeepers and she had a somewhat normal childhood. 

the only odd thing that ever stood out to her was the woman named Perla. Sasha met her once and remembered a soft face with round pink cheeks, and greying hair and her smiled was infectious. however the next time sasha met her, the woman was taller, darker hair, with a crooked smile. sasha tried to tell her parents this was not the same woman but no one believed her. it always stayed with her. 

she was a charming kid, she included everyone and played as much as she could.

if she wasn’t playing then she was reading and solving mysteries. she was much too curious for her own good but never let it stop her. 

she was a bright student, exceling in school and eventually found her way to university. she studied epigraphy(study of inscriptions) along with folklore. she became an excellent researcher, and traveled the world. 

when she got back she was offered a job at the Magnus Institute as a practical researcher. she never felt comfortable in the artefacts archives and ended up in the research archives with Johnathan Sims, Tim Stoker and Martin Blackwood. 

She also worked with Gertrude Robinson and Gertrude Robinson expected Sasha to take over for her. 

However Sasha has two brains to rub together and Elias noticed that. Which is why i believe her transfer to the archives happened so her death would be without fail. 

Sasha died by the same thing that she saw as a child. A Not Them. A doppleganger without being a doppleganger. She was murdered by this creature. Which proved to be useful to Elias because her compassion and logical mind would have put things together much faster then Jonathan Sims. 

Once she died Sasha woke up here, in Ivywood. She doesn’t remember she died though, she doesn’t remember the Not Them. But she does remember an entity named Michael and Jane. 

She works in the University’s library and is fairly happy, mostly because she feels like something terrible happened to her at the Archives and escaping them was to her benefit. 

She does miss the boys but she can’t remember their names. 

She’d be great for ships, she’s straight

she’s sweet and warm and intelligent and has a good sense of humor. 

but she’s also no nonsense, strong and can put her foot down. an angel really.

[menacingfag]

[perla-speedofsound-adventuring]

Whenever I try to make it a point to post more on my writing blog, I doom myself into not posting

So imma just post onto it randomly whenever I want without announcements

Pls consider following @the-excursion 🙏

[palomadelmara]

I mean even if it just an AU the basic idea I’m running with here is that Cedar & the LRV gang is sort of in witness protection, both because they’re running from their own cult, aaaand because they yeeted Azlynn (and Elijah) out of St. Agnes and completely out of Perla’s realm of control and holy shit is Perla not happy about that. so they’re all in hiding for a good however many years, and the only people who they regularly see are eachother

but then they find these OTHER people who are dealing with essentially the same thing and take them in, and Azlynn, getting to finally meet people aside from Cedar and their relatives who have Also dealt with demons and possession and cult nonsense is like haha YES and immediately feels the need to become bestest friends with the small quiet one who for some reason shares her name

[sandnerd]

Banana fish - Ep 24 - Fine

Io non ci credo che sto piangendo davanti al computer come una scema. Il mio cinismo è andato a nascondersi in un angolo e piange a dirotto tutte le sue lacrime. Sono stati 30 minuti di emozione, e non c'è stato un solo secondo in cui il mio cuore non abbia battuto per qualcosa, che fosse paura, gioia, terrore, rabbia, sollievo, tenerezza, amore. Ed anzi avevo letto che i minuti sarebbero stati 40, credo che da una cosa del genere ne sarei uscita con una crisi isterica. Ma procediamo col commentone della puntata, adesso mi ricompongo un attimo...o almeno ci provo. Quel bastardo di Fox ha sparato a Golzine, io lo davo per spacciato ma a quanto pare è ancora vivo e vigile a quello che gli accade attorno. Subito dopo i colpi di pistola le saracinesche vengono chiuse ed Ash resta privo di supporto da parte dei compari che erano rimasti fuori un momento a fumarsi una sigaretta ed avevano fatto entrare Ash da solo, perchè, dai, cosa può succedere di storto, restiamocene tutti e 120 quanto la briscola qua fuori, così diamo ad Ash i suoi spazi...boh. Ma i compari rimasti fuori vengono attaccati da una truppa ai comandi di Fox, che a quanto pare era già appostata lì ed aspettava solo la chiusura delle saracinesche per svuotare sui compari i loro proiettili. Fox se la ride all'interno della struttura, con Ash sotto il suo scarpone (devi morire malissimo) e Golzine che non può fare niente, mentre arriva il dottor Mannerheim che aveva tutti i dati sulla droga e resta di sasso alla vista di Golzine per terra ferito. Adesso il capo è ufficiosamente Fox, ed ufficialmente Ash, che sarà sostanzialmente il burattino nonchè prostituta di Fox (che deve morire malissimo). Ash viene quindi portato all'elicottero, ed in teoria è narcotizzato, ma figuriamoci se si fa fregare da una cosa del genere il nostro biondo, ed appena resta solo col soldato di guardia lo tramortisce e si nasconde. Nel frattempo Blanca lì fuori ha preso in mano la situazione, ed ha detto a tutti di pensare ai prigionieri e poi scappare, lui penserà ad Ash. Sing affida i suoi uomini a Cain e segue Blanca, aiutandolo a sgominare le varie bande di soldati che si trovano davanti. La scena del condotto di aerazione è una piccola perla, in effetti pure io vedendo quella cosetta mi ero chiesta in che modo Blanca ci sarebbe passato senza tagliarsi metà corpo, le dimensioni sono importanti ma non sempre, ricordiamolo. Il piano di Fox (quello che deve morire malissimo), e cioè quello di portarsi valigetta coi dati, Ash e dottore via elicottero e dare fuoco a tutta la struttura non sta funzionando, perchè il codice di accesso al sistema è stato manomesso e non risponde più ai comandi. E' opera di Golzine, che seriamente nessuno ha pensato di sorvegliare dato che era ancora vivo, e con due bei buchi sul petto non avendo niente da fare se ne va a zonzo per il centro a manomettere codici, che vuoi che sia. Nel frattempo i compari sono arrivati nell'area in cui sono tenuti i prigionieri, e stanno facendo una bella sparatoria contro il battaglione che era appostato lì. Jessica, in quanto donna, sa bene quando una causa è persa e lascia stare le armi, semplicemente lancia una bomba contro i soldati e prende a colpi di proiettile il pannello che teneva chiuse le porte, perchè noi donne siamo così, tenere e delicate. Segue rimpatriata nel corridoio come se fossimo ad un happy hour e Max che chiede a Jessica di sposarlo di nuovo...teneri questi due. Blanca e Sing sono sbucati fuori dal condotto di aerazione, o per meglio dire Sing è uscito, Blanca sta incontrando dei problemi tecnici, la programmazione riprenderà tra poco. Il dottore che ha ancora la valigetta viene intercettato da Ash, che lo porta con se lungo una struttura in costruzione, penso verso l'uscita, ma viene bloccato da Fox (che deve morire malissimo) che spara al dottore e da un elicottero con all'interno un mitra che fa fuoco. Blanca e Sing sono arrivati anche loro all'interno del complesso in costruzione, e Blanca sfodera le sue doti da cecchino usando Sing come sostegno per il fucile, alla Bard l'arciere style, colpendo il pilota dell'elicottero. Blanca sei tutti noi. Segue combattimento contro Fox (devi morire malissimo) con la prima opening di sottofondo e Sing che ha trovato la valigetta ma viene sbalzato via dall'esplosione dell'elicottero che si schianta contro l'edificio. I due continuano a combattere e quell'infame di Fox infilza la spalla di Ash con un coltello, ma il biondo si trova a portata di mano un avvitatore, pensa se era scarico, e lo infila nel fianco a quello stronzo fino a fargli perdere i sensi. Ash si rialza quindi e va ad aiutare Sing che sta per cadere dalla soletta, e gli dice di lasciare andare la valigetta con un'espressione che mi ha letteralmente sciolto il cuore. Ma quel gran figlio di sua madre di Fox non ne ha avute abbastanza e punta la pistola ad Ash, ma viene colpito alla testa da niente popò di meno che da Golzine, che con quei soliti buchi al petto è riuscito a salire non so quanti piani di scale di un edificio in costruzione. Ma non fa niente Golzine, ti perdoniamo per questo nonsense dato che hai fatto fuori quella carogna di Fox (che non è morto proprio malissimo ma è comunque morto, accontentiamoci). E Golzine, dopo un ultimo sguardo ad Ash, uno sguardo colmo di orgoglio, affetto, per non dire amore, certo un amore malato ma pur sempre amore, verso quella creatura che guardava da sempre con ammirazione e smania di controllo ma che non riusciva a domare e che l'affascinava per questo, si lascia andare e cade di sotto tra le fiamme. Blanca interrompe la conversazione tra Ash e Sing, che come abbiamo già capito, non ha mai voluto affrontare seriamente Ash, l'ha sempre ammirato anzi, così come ha sempre ammirato Shorter, e la scena cambia. E venuta fuori la storia degli scandali sessuali nella quale erano invischiati funzionari del governo, e questo sta facendo alzare un gran polverone, ma di banana fish non si dice niente, anche perchè non è rimasto niente, quindi sarebbe una denuncia vana. Andiamo da Eiji in ospedale, triste come non mai perchè Ash non si è fatto vedere e lui parte l'indomani, ma sa benissimo che è perchè non vuole più coinvolgerlo nel suo mondo di faide tra bande e morti ammazzati, sa che è per la sua sicurezza che Ash non sta cercando in qualche modo di mettersi in contatto con lui ma di certo non può prenderla con filosofia dopo tutto quello che hanno passato insieme. Un'ultima visita a Yut Lung, che dopo quello che è successo ad Eiji non ha più agito, forse perchè Blanca l'ha fatto ragionare, forse perchè non gli importava più niente, sta di fatto che ora sta lì tutto il tempo a "morire di noia e a bere". Arriva Sing a parlare con lui, ed a metterlo davanti all'evidenza, cioè al semplice fatto che era geloso di quello che aveva trovato Ash con Eiji, ma anche che Sing non detesta Yut Lung, non potrà perdonarlo per aver convinto alcuni suoi uomini ad attaccare Eiji, ma è disponibile a collaborare con lui perchè è di questo che Yut Lung ha bisogno, qualcuno che lo aiuti e che sia sincero con lui, e Sing è disposto a dargli tutto questo, anche perchè Chinatown con tutto quello che è successo adesso è troppo pericolosa, e solo l'autorità dei Lee, la famiglia di Yut Lung, può sistemare questo problema. Sing si dimostra ancora una volta più maturo dei suoi 14 anni, ma ci torneremo. Blanca è al parco che legge Hemingway, al solito, e vede sedersi accanto a lui Ash, che gli da i soldi che avevano stabilito per contratto, una promessa è pur sempre una promessa. Ash ammette che Blanca aveva ragione, non doveva permettere ad Eiji di stargli accanto, ma Ash non ha potuto farne a meno, quella purezza e quella tenerezza, quell'onestà e supporto avevano avvolto Ash e lo avevano fatto sentire completo, per usare le sue parole, ma così facendo lo aveva esposto a troppi rischi, quindi è meglio così. Tutto sembra essere finito, e bene anche, ma mancano ancora 10 minuti alla fine e io ho paura. Eiji è pronto per uscire dall'ospedale e riceve la visita di Sing, stupito che Ash non si sia fatto vedere, ma onestamente nessuno sa dove sia finito quel birbantello. Eiji ha un flash, Ash deve essere in biblioteca, è quel posto che raggiunge ogni volta che vuole rasserenarsi, e da a Sing una lettera da consegnare ad Ash. Sing quindi assume il ruolo di piccione viaggiatore e trova Ash in biblioteca, e lo copre di insulti per non essere andato da Eiji, ma Ash ha ragione, vuole che Eiji se ne vada da questo mondo e che torni alla sua serena vita dove non devi girare con la pistola al fianco per essere tranquillo. La lettera di Eiji, piena di affetto, tenerezza, nostalgia e comprensione, fa però cambiare idea ad Ash, che corre via per andare all'aeroporto, ma un tizio incappucciato gli sbarra la strada e prima che se ne possa accorgere lo ferisce al fianco in modo grave. Parte un colpo di pistola, e l'aggressore cade a terra, rivelandoci di essere Lao, che non aveva accettato l'atteggiamento di Sing nei confronti di Ash, per lui il biondo la doveva pagare per Shorter e non era altri che un mostro che si ergeva sopra tutti con la sua intelligenza. Ed a questo punto continuo a chiedermi perchè Ash non abbia fatto dire la verità a Sing su Shorter, molte cose sarebbero andate diversamente. Eiji è all'aeroporto, ed i ragazzi della banda tra cui Sing sono venuti a salutarlo con tanto di peluche. "Ash dice che vi rivedrete!" urla Sing, e noi cominciamo a piangere perchè potranno rivedersi solo nell'altra vita, perchè Ash, ferito gravemente, è tornato nella biblioteca trascinando i piedi e sedendosi continua a leggere la lettera di Eiji. Cazzo vai in ospedale, avverti qualcuno, è una ferita curabile e tu te ne stai lì a morire come uno scemo. La fine arriva così, leggera, morbida, delicata, per Eiji che ha la certezza di rivedere Ash prima o poi, e per Ash che muore sui sentimenti che Eiji ha convertito in parole per lui, regalandoci insieme gioia e dolore, perchè Ash è finalmente in pace dopo il mondo di violenza e crudeltà nel quale aveva vissuto fin da piccolo ed il dolore che aveva sperimentato a causa di chi voleva dominarlo. Ha smesso di combattere, di stare costantemente in guardia, di chiudere il proprio cuore a chiunque gli si avvicinava, come un gatto randagio che davanti ad un piatto di latte rigeneratore scappa via perchè non conosce la gentilezza. Vuole morire così, dopo essere stato amato e considerato da una persona che ha sfondato la sua armatura costruita in anni ed anni di sofferenza, e che l'ha affatto sentire, come già detto, completo. Io sono provata, quest'ultimo episodio non è stato da meno di tutti gli altri, è stata una serie che non ha mai deluso le aspettative, non c'è mai stato un momento in cui ho storto il naso in modo serio se non per piccole cose e la caratterizzazione dei personaggi è stata abbastanza soddisfacente. Ho letto di trame che nel manga ci sono ma che qui non sono state trattate, ma naturalmente nella trasposizione animata qualcosa deve per forza essere tagliata, e nonostante questo, parlando da persona che non ha letto il manga, non ho mai avuto la sensazione di non capire gli intrecci e le dinamiche, il tempo è stato gestito bene così come l'alternanza tra scene d'azione e di dialoghi, e quei momenti in cui Ash ed Eiji erano soli, anche ad insultarsi l'un l'altro, regalavano il batticuore. Forse il concept di Ash che viene catturato-poi si libera-poi viene ricatturato-poi si libera di nuovo e via dicendo, nel complesso può risultare ridondante, ma è una sensazione minima che non rovina la visione nel suo complesso ed in ogni situazione c'è sempre una serie di elementi che le rendono una diversa dall'altra. Mi è piaciuta anche l'evoluzione di certi personaggi, in particolar modo quella di Sing, che ammette i suoi errori e se ne assume la responsabilità, capisce di non essere all'altezza di Ash ma non lo ostacola come farebbe un Arthur qualunque, bensì gli fa da supporto e si unisce a lui perchè sa distinguere un mostro da chi non lo è, ed arriva perfino ad offrire la sua collaborazione a Yut Lung pur di riportare la pace a Chinatown; ed anche il rapporto tra Ash e Golzine, nonostante la sua percentuale molto alta di amore malato e non corrisposto, ha portato alla fine alla realizzazione per Ash dell'attaccamento che quest'uomo aveva per lui, tanto che il suo ultimo gesto è stato quello di salvargli la vita. Sono tutti elementi questi che non possono essere catalogati come buoni o malvagi, parlano di tematiche complesse, esplorano per quello che possono l'animo umano e ti fanno rimanere in contraddizione con te stessa. Sono molto soddisfatta di quest'anime, i disegni, i colori, le atmosfere sono stati un altro elemento che mi hanno guidato in questi 24 episodi e che non mi hanno mai deluso. Confido un giorno di poter leggere il manga, è una storia che mi ha emozionato tanto e merita di essere comprata e letta da tutti. Chiudo qui che il papiro è lunghissimo, al prossimo anime! -sand-

[letteratour]

“Come il granello di sabbia penetrato nel cuore dell’ostrica può diventare una perla, un frammento di sogno, nel cuore della persona giusta, dà il via a una grande avventura.” Il libro: Una corsa notturna a perdifiato per le strade di Parigi, una scanzonata coppia di amici, una vita di espedienti. Un furto maldestro e un sogno d’amore portano i pittoreschi Sorcio e Banana in un viaggio attraverso un’Europa senza confini. È l’avventura di una vita, il tanto atteso riscatto per un’intera generazione. O è forse, solamente, una confusa illusione, la fantasiosa distrazione di un Dio stanco e annoiato, capace di mettere in scena le proprie nevrosi personali attraverso la scrittura. In fondo, nessuno può separare il sogno dalla realtà. L’autore: Valerio Carbone, 35 anni, romano, è psicologo (regolarmente iscritto all’albo) e dottore di ricerca (Ph.D.) in Filosofia. Da oltre 10 anni lavora nel mondo editoriale. È proprietario e responsabile della casa editrice indipendente Edizioni Haiku e della piattaforma di formazione e servizi Scrittura Efficace. Tra le sue pubblicazioni di narrativa: il romanzo sci-fi “Il mercante d’acqua” (Haiku, 2015) e la raccolta di racconti “Il fantastico mondo di Fruitore Di Nonsense” (Edizioni Efesto, 2017). Collana: parerga Numero di pagine: 226 Prezzo: 13,50 € Genere letterario: Commedia, romanzo picaresco Copertina: graframan.com

[colectivasinpuertos]

Estás viendo y no ves (texto colectivo intervenido)

REGLAS DE LA INTERVENCIÓN

Se puede:                                               No se puede:

* añadir                                                   *borrar 

* cortar

* copiar

* pegar

* sustituir

* resaltar 

Estás viendo y no (me) ves, ¿realmente me quieres ver?

Buscar sentido es un pretexto para vivir y la vida no tiene sentido.

[nonsense.]

¿Historia de México?

Sólo si un europeo la descubría o la inventaba, podría existir América.

-no me da miedo ahogarme.

Me pregunté qué significa «especular»

corta

corta

corta

larga

larga

larga

¿Geografía de México?

La utopía del Gran Inquisidor

No es tu casa, es tu prisión.

Tu calabozo

,

El sinsentido de escribir sin sentido:

x, d, y, acto.

Una letra, una frase: corazón.

Y todxs la conocen, pero no en realidad; 

sólo cuando la necesitan.

Teoría y práctica de la visita guiada.

cuando encuentro hortensias:

Buscar sentido es un pretexto para vivir 

y la vida no tiene sentido.

(2. No tener dónde más estar y ser, por lo que quedarse en casa no es una decisión, 

parece destino.)

¿Historia de México?

Soy invisible cuando me ves, cierras los ojos

ahora existo, ahora NO.

(oculta, siempre oculta).

Una frase corta: «decidí odiar los rábanos.»

Qué corta. Un pensamiento de un alguien que habla. 

O que piensa: un mar, en dos horas todo eso pasaría a ser recuerdo/olvido

Abismo: casa abierta (o cerrada)

¿cuál es el campo cerrado?

Quédate en casa (en tiempos de pandemia).

la vida no está para salir 

Las perlas negras (ese mil veces maldito trago hecho con un shot de Jägermeister y una lata de Red Bull).

Un pensamiento: lo que quieras.

La vez que te vi, no te vi (mis pupilas llenas pozo bien oliente).

(significa una fotografía:

que haya un terremoto)

¿Antropología física o espiritual? Santa Teresa (o yo)

let elFuturoEsHoy = false

let nadaSePierde = false

Dicción e importación de la voz. Hay un acotamiento. 

y alguien diga «acepto»:

que habla. O que piensa.

Una hidra navegando suave

entre tarolas frágiles

y saxofones juguetones

turururu.

(El pretérito nunca fue tan doloroso como en esta oración.)

Miraría tu nuca, sé que algo escondes:

if (elFuturoEsHoy) {

              console.log(‘Cada uno da lo que recibe.’);

}

que sean las 5 de la tarde.

Esas eran mis materias. Debe haber alguna otra pero no me acuerdo…

El alma se lleva el amor que le dan

lo recupera pero nunca entero.

5. Acto de recogerte en tu trabajo, doblarte con tu computadora y almacenarte en USB con tus jefes, para hacer tu parte en el sistema económico capitalista desde un espacio concreto que se denomina “tu casa-oficina”. Si no sales a tu trabajo, tu trabajo viene a ti.

pero algún día, tal vez, será.

dos cartones de cerveza no fuera una odisea.

Sin Homero, claro esta.

¿Qué pinta Dante en todo esto?

Es como encontrarme, pero

¿Tú te acuerdas de todas tus materias de la secundaria?...

else if (nadaSePierde) {

            console.log(‘Todo se transforma’);

}

Tal vez si intentara mantener un pensamiento que corre como maratonista

me da (ver)güenza

, a ese Museo de Historia Natural

las 6 casas que rentaron mis padres entre 1985 y 2008

están llenas de fantasmas errabundos

El sonido que hace la luz del sol cuando está por despedirse del horizonte. No la última, sino la antepenúltima raya de luz.

pero no sé izar las velas. Retrocede. Da la vuelta y regresa.

Ya lo dijo bien Simone:

¿Y Educación Física?... ¿Ves? No te acuerdas… 

Pero ¿Te das cuenta, mi’jo? Yo no había acabado la primaria. Y ahí estaba yo.

AHÍ ESTABA YO

¿No me viste? ¿Me buscaste acaso?

8. Sentencia ominosa e imperativo que aprieta el estómago cuando implica pasar 24 horas con tu agresor. No es tu casa, es tu prisión. Ya te dije: el calabozo. 

Un mar: atmósferas suaves

se hacen los que ven y no ven lo que hay que ver

No diré el disfraz que elegí, pero sí

alguna carrera

Así que empecé a hacer una crónica del aburrimiento en la pandemia. 

CRÓNICA DE UN ABURRIMIENTO EN PANDEMIA: 

Mi crónica no tiene sentido ni orden, muy parecido al aburrimiento.

else {

console.log(‘Los árboles de plástico son como de verdad. 

Detente: tampoco tienen dientes’);

}

La casa chica donde habitaron mis medios hermanos imaginarios

con el color negro

difícil borrar un chat de años en WhatsApp

¿Qué pensará el insecto de mí? Detente

Si pasas de página ya no es una sola fotografía

Desaprobación

es caer hacia arriba. Tiene que ver con la idea de que todo está ligado al tiburón. 

No es verdad.

kilómetros y kilómetros

Cuatro cuadros: viñetas

La casa que compró mi madre

también es futuro.

9. Vivir sin día asignado, sin horarios fijos, con un chal encima aun cuando tu clóset está por reventar.

Pero, ¿Quiénes

De todo lo que veo todos los días lo mío favorito es una casita escondida en un callejón. Es tan bonita, pequeñita y aislada. Es parte de mis crónicas de la pandemia. 

la certeza mayor: // “Todo es falso, nada existe. Excepto los taquitos de Jack in the Box, esos siempre son verdaderos. Los tacos de la esquina de mi casa”. 

y ahí estaba yo. con mis tacos y el fin del mundo: 

parecía el fin del mundo para mí

cómo se permite

Sueño con lo que no ves;

trote firme y constante

El niño parece estar acompañado por alguien...el mismo domingo

12. No hay casa sin habitantes. Sin transeúntes, sin un perro o un gato.

13. No hay casa sin perro, sin carro, sin la mamá y el papá y los gatos. Todo junto, armonioso y sin conflicto. ¿A alguien le enseñaron que casa era lo contrario?

La perra ladra a lo lejos;

Cree que tiene que ser guardiana: o eso dice su humana. 

A esta hora, todos los días 

Empieza el ritual de ladrar y correr como loca por toda la propiedad. 

Es que empiezan a salir los coyotes. O eso dicen. Y a la mañana temprano, a eso de las 6 y media, lo mismo. Ladra enloquecida porque siguen por aquí.

:)

Viva el amor digital (¡viva!)

Una vez encontré a su dueño y le pregunté sobre la historia de la casa y sobre él (entrevista del dueño de la casa). Nada de lo que me dijo me sirvió para conocer más de la casa, pero sí de él. Me pareció una persona extraña.

En ellas vemos el antepenúltimo, penúltimo y último rayo de luz. Sin luz ya no podemos ver nada en ese cuarto cuadro.

Esta señora recién llegada de Mazatlán con la alta alcurnia de la Ciudad de México. Todavía el museo no estaba terminado. Tomábamos clase en el primer piso y eran unas escaleras de obra, de albañiles. Imagínate a las señoras todas entonadas subiendo esas escaleras. ¡Ja! Pero eso me ayudó. Lo mazatleca

y la medianoche

la vez que no te vi, te vi;

Sigues ahí?

Mantener el rebotar de los pies cubiertos por el calzado indicado profesionalmente para las carreras. La casa que compraron tus padres con una hipoteca que va a durar más que su vida

en fragmentos coloridos

Y es verdad, sí hay coyotes. Conseguí una cámara de esas que tienen sensor de movimiento y también toman fotos y video de noche y logré fotografiar a varios. Aunque hoy, como una novata, borré todas las fotos de la tarjeta de memoria. Qué bronca me dio. Por atrabancada, por desesperada. Tenía que haber respaldado las fotos primero pero se me hizo fácil ir borrando directo en la cámara y sin darme cuenta le di borrar todo en vez de borrar imagen.

 No sabía que acabarías escribiendo el diario de tu lamentable día y quejándote delante de todos. Aprovechaste la oportunidad para compartir tu miseria. Qué novedad. Solo te aviso que nadie querrá leer esto. A nadie le interesa si borraste todas las fotos de tu cámara porque ni siquiera han visto las fotos. Sí, podrías describirlas más a detalle y que se las imaginen y así esperar que lamenten que las hayas perdido pero dudo mucho que eso suceda.

Te escucho respirar

¿Quién lo reconocería siquiera como una utopía?

Atraviesan la ciudad...Como una progresión, lenta, armoniosa pero repetitiva.

La casa no solo la hacen las paredes y sus servicios que el INEGI nos censa, la casa la hacen las personas, los momentos, los problemas, los sitios pequeños en que puedes resguardarte del mundo para hacer una pausa y escribir mientras escuchas la canción que en día de lluvia te recuerda a tu hermano. Tu hermano que está desorientado, en casa, pero sin rumbo.

(me aburro seguido en esa casa flotante)

¿Era mi mente drogada otra forma de viajar en el tiempo?

La vida ya decidió, combinaría bien con el color negro

aaaaah… ffffff… fonemas en inglés

¿Eso lo escribiste escuchando Radiohead? Retrocede. Da la vuelta y regresa a aquella primera

La casa en el árbol que habito cuando sueño que soy pájaro

Porque mis compañeras eran tímidas. Como toda la gente del altiplano, mi’jo. La gente del altiplano es penosa y no se atreve nunca a decir lo que piensa ni preguntar nada. En cambio yo tenía necesidad de hablar y de preguntar.

puedo ver como el aire se va

Debí poner atención; 

Siempre lo pienso a destiempo;

Con prisa;

Sin tiempo.

Hay ojos ajenos que nos ven

un mar que no es azul

que alguna vez extravié

Desafiando los límites de mi propia memoria: ojos mosaico, ojos malditos

La casa de donde viene el olor a pizza

es lo que me aterra

¿entre amores?

no-sé-dónde. En todas partes me escuchas pero no me ves, otra vez. 

Tengo fiebre de recuerdos.

Para las 3 menos cinco eran colores, un pony y un girasol lo que crecía en los párpados

Lo acabé haciendo tan bien que me dejaron escoger sala, mi’jo. El señor Miguel Vasquez, que era el museógrafo del museo, un señor brillante pero insportable. Para que te des una idea ponía una silla en el escritorio…

entre amores

lo que quieres ver en mí, no existe(s)

Las palabras nunca olvidan: el suave contacto entre el asfalto y el talón 

- planta - dedos del pie izquierdo - derecho, izquierdo - derecho, izquierdo - derecho

lejo

s de la conciencia

5 o 6 de la tarde, por el hecho de que es un calle espacial. Los personajes entran y salen. 

La casa donde migraron las polillas que se comieron los restos de nuestros cacahuates

lo que veo en ti, tampoco existe(s) Fingimos vernos

¿Cuántos días han pasado en losa que la luz siempre vuelve? Las probabilidades de que hoy sea ese día en que no vuelve han de ser como de...

y la medianoche, izquierdo - derecho, izquierdo - derecho

133 a 1: forma estúpida

Para desde ahí sentarse y ver que no estuviéramos copiando

cruces, todas intervenidas

del siguiente día

izquierdo - derecho: corriendo

El de arriba no es finito

despiertas, no estás ahí

El mar empieza en la punta de los dedos de mis pies y se convierte en una extensión del cielo

corriendo: el maratonista, el 

pensamiento, sin detenerse:

Lento.

Un beso. Un guiño. ¿Acepto?

10. Del verbo: sobrevivir así ¿es vivir? una canción de Fey

pero al menos tiene estrellas

La casa por la que nos vendiste al diablo durante 1060 años

soy invisible cuando me ves, Museo de Historia Natural: el pensamiento, el maratonista, el latido y la duda

navego en la nube

Un beso no dado. Cuando terminábamos el curso se levantó y me dijo: Señora Matiella, usted va a seguir estudiando?... Dijo que sí con una mirada de duda

constante: todas las anteriores

Aunque la última vez que volvió también se volvió difícil contar los días

Parecía tan retador por momentos

la sangre que pierde liquidez forma coágulos

La casa que construyes para mí con dos paredes: tu playera y tu abdomen

y sobre todo, la duda:

cuando la felicidad

los anhelos frustrados forman estrés

Para alcanzar la constante, la eternidad, tenemos que regresar, dar la vuelta. 

6. Decisión/Imposición/consigna/deseo de no ver, de no reunirse, de no encontrarse con familiares y amistades

¿de enero?

La casa en la playa que nunca podremos comprar porque somos clasemedieros

Pero si un día no empieza después de este

(re)tumbar

intenté pasar un día sin mirar el reloj.

Aguanté minutos...

7. Acto que consiste en administrar la añoranza por nuestros seres queridos, desde el sofá, frente al ordenador.

espasmos, ganas de vomitar, migraña

Pequeñas punzadas

Le respondí que no, yo tenía que trabajar, mis hijos y eso… Es una lástima, dijo. ¿Cómo ves, mi’jo? Eso le dijeron a tu la joven de Mazatlán…

tela en print de leopardo, collares fosforescentes

líquido espeso saliendo de entre tus piernas

Éste no ha acabado

Los ojos en algún punto, sin excepción, se vuelven tristes (mis pupilas rectas sin gesto innato)

11. De poner una canción para reescribir(te) a la luz de lo que eres. 

Del no sentido.

un punto que corta

Falsetes. ¿Voy?

El campo cerrado, el campo semántico. 

Lo hice tan bien que me dejaron escoger sala…

una idea: mis pupilas coloreadas agua definida

La casa que abandonó el gato con piel de tigre que ahora habita en el café que visitamos el domingo

Esa era la consigna: era la nada en el abismo de un todo.

A menos que

Pues la sala Maya, mi’jo. ¿Qué otra iba a escoger?

ver(nos), no hay nos (mis pupilas terrestres remedos cielinos)

y duelo no resuelto

la casa rodante de los gitanos mendigos que se roban cosas de la biblioteca

Los días empiecen de noche.

Con una voz arrítimica me dijo: Retrocede. 

Un reconocimiento, un guiño:

“acepto”

La casa que los pichones construyeron en el techo del edificio

3. No ser tu casa, estar fuera de ti, no encontrarte ni en un espacio ni fuera de éste.

¿Será que mañana puedo (ver)te? 

No.

Hay ver (mis pupilas grandes polen lleno de abejas)

casa sin muebles

carreras que atraviesan la ciudad

lento

4. Acción que expresa el acto voluntario [porque te es posible] de no habitar las calles, los parques, los cines. Dejar que los árboles extrañen tu andar.

llega de noche

Verme, no hay ojos (mis pupilas negras sin ineluctables chispitas)

¿Así se escribe la poesía?

nadie se sabe la letra

Todo está pensado en los YOS. 

Y la palabra “especular” se vuelve (in)útil.

un deseo:

aceptan vivir

Quedarte en casa donde mamá y papá desean salir corriendo, ¿es menos saludable que salir de casa? Es pregunta.

?

El dolor de estar lejos

Comienza:

nunca logré sacarme

Medusa convierte a sus víctimas en piedra

No había forma de decirle que no

Un pensamiento

En el de abajo

Vi tus historias en Instagram, todo sigue igual

siguiente día

un maratonista

era más pop

y sobre todo, la duda:

Siempre tuve un no. El campo semántico, los juegos con el lenguaje. 

Pero si no existe otra sala de espera después de la espera, nada tiene sentido.

Buscar pretexto es un sentido para vivir 

Estoy viendo y no te veo.

Autoría:

Tani, RS, Myrell, Mariana, Carol, Myhrra, Raquel, Berenice, Nelly, Mónica, Corina, Iñaki, Roberto, Ximena, Berenice, Lôr,