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#italian writer
i-s-s-a · 8 days
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I really like this rage-ace (does it just make me laugh, ok?) we're spewing on Tumbrl. Let's keep going, damn it.
DENMARK IS EVER CLOSER.
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drsunshines · 15 days
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New Dante design drop ‼️🫶
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Il contagio, W. Siti, 2008
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kiarits · 5 months
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"It's true. I have always thought that writing could, perhaps over years and with work, "save" the miserable story [...] (mine) into an epic song... an epos. And perhaps I would have succeeded [...] But it won't be like this. Literature does not save, much less the innocent. The only thing that saves is Love and the fallout of Grace which is like a storm."
Pier Vittorio Tondelli
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huariqueje · 2 years
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Portrait of the writer Becca Benso  -  Achille Funi , 1929
Italian, 1890-1972
Oil on panel,  85 x 85 cm
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thatstudyblrontea · 2 years
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E pareva giocasse nella notte morente, la luna, libera e sola nel deserto del cielo crepuscolare, sopra la terra ancora addormentata; e si nascondeva, e riappariva tra le fronde, e si specchiava nell'acqua destandovi mille sorrisi, compiacendosi a vedersi nuda, libera e sola.
— Grazia Deledda, Marianna Sirca
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[ And it looked like she was playing in the dying night, the moon, free and alone in the desert of the crepuscular sky, over the still asleep earth; and she'd hide, and reappear between the fronds, and look at herself in the water rousing a thousand smiles, pleased to see herself naked, free, and alone. | translation is mine. ]
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sistinad · 1 year
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“La gran, la tremenda verdad es ésta: sufrir no sirve para nada“.
Cesare Pavese, El oficio de vivir.
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isuoiocchidirugiada · 2 years
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“Se mi sono innamorato di te non è soltanto perché, come si dice, ti desiderassi, ma perché tu sei della mia stessa levatura, e ti muovi e parli come, da uomo, farei io se, invece d’imparare a scrivere, avessi avuto il tempo d’imparare a stare al mondo. Del resto, c’è la stessa eleganza e sicurezza in quello ch’io ho scritto e nelle tue giornate. So quindi a chi parlo”.
- Cesare Pavese, Vita attraverso le lettere.
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COULROPHOBIA
by Shetani Bonaparte
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Never trust a clown.
Those lips hide biting teeth, that nose smells your fear, that red hides the blood.
You can't trust something that hasn't a genuine expression on its face, and you can't trust something that has such a bubbly and hypnotizing voice. It mimics human speech, it watches me from the stage, and I can't stop trembling under its empty gaze. They say eyes are the mirror of the Soul, but there isn't a Soul in that thing.
There just isn't.
You can't trust those colors. Those things use colors to distract you, to appear joyful and funny and nice, but they are not.
It jumps off of the stage, and it jumps and jump, screaming "hippity hop", too colorful and cheerful and it's trying too hard to appear trustworthy.
But I know better.
My gut feeling knows better.
The thing forces me and three other kids to leave the safety of the crowd and to go on the stage with it, and I tremble and helplessly look at my mother, who gestures me to stay here.
Beside the clown. Beside the monster.
We have to win a contest, me and the other kids. We have to imitate a lion, a horse and a dog. The clown looks at us closely, judging.
Is he valuating which one of us is worth living? Which one of us is going to be taken away and eaten?
I feel like the prey of a sadistic being, and then the thing sends us back to our seats.
I keep trembling and sweating, and when we walk home I keep looking around, expecting to see it ready to attack.
«Honey, he was just a clown, get over it with your nonsense» mom tells me.
But I know better: under all those colors there's no good.
-
Had a nightmare about that time my mother took me to the circus and I was forced to go on the stage with a clown. I was just a kid, now I'm 25, but sometimes I still get scared while thinking about that day.
My phobia is now better, even if seeing videos of clowns is still uncomfortable and sometimes scary and seeing a clown in real Life still gets me to have a panic attack, if they get too close and touch me/talk to me.
At least now I don't have problems with photos.
Coulrophobia is my biggest phobia, btw. The other 2 are my fear of specifically syringes' needles and thalassophobia.
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i-s-s-a · 2 months
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LOVELESS in the background while Iisaac says: -I read all these books where people fall in love, and I still have absolutely no idea- it's a ✨magnificent detail✨
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ipensieridizo · 3 months
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"[...] il libro di cui stiamo parlando è un tentativo di spiegare perché quel libro lì può cambiare la vita di una donna, nell'età in cui una donna la vita la vuole cambiare; e sono proprio i 30 anni. Perché i trent'anni e non i 20? Perché solo dopo i 30 anni siamo tutti dei sopravvissuti, tutte delle sopravvissute. E le sopravvissute ed i sopravvissuti si organizzano nuovi strumenti di resistenza."
Michela Murgia
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Mi sembra di sentire ancora la sua voce una sera che mi diceva: «Sai, c'è da essere seriamente preoccupati. Hanno letto tutto Proust! Parlano di Joyce, di Freud! Citano Heidegger! Sono moderni, Rimbaud l'hanno preso alla lettera, il faut être absolument moderne!, e loro lo sono, assolutamente, ciecamente, costi quel che costi. Ieri al tavolo di De Feo una se ne esce con la sineddoche e la metonimia, e De Feo tutto rosso: Questo no, per favore questo non me lo dovete fare! Sono moderni e aggiornati, hanno letto Barthes, sanno tutto sullo strutturalismo, sulla lingua e la parola...»
Ma di chi stai parlando? gli domandavo.
«Dei cretini. Ha ragione Flaiano, oggi sono pericolosi perché sono intelligenti. E scrivono bene, non l'hai notato? Si sono impadroniti del discorso!»
E questo ti preoccupa? gli dicevo.
«Mi preoccupa sì, sono uno scrittore e devo preoccuparmene, mi preoccupa molto. Sono talmente intelligenti che alle volte mi sembra di essere diventato cretino. E non dovrei preoccuparmi? Mi preoccupo sì.»
Letteratura e salti mortali, R. La Capria, 1990
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sallyastral · 5 months
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r.i.p Cesare Pavese you would have loved Tumblr
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Had a strange dream last night, there was Adam but in this dream of mine he was not the main character or even a companion of the "main character."
He was there, but it was as if the story in the dream developed out of his main events, those of Human Revolution, mainly, with a few random run-ins.
Despite the fact that I am having an extreme hard time keeping Adam and Selene's story afloat, and despite the fact that I am not particularly appreciated by readers in the fandom, I continue to dream of the world of Deus Ex.
A world I met back in 2001 with the first chapter of the saga.
It's been 20 years, I was 14-15 then, now I'm 35.
I was writing more at that age, but I was writing poorly and definitely not able to write in basic English.
Now I seem to have lost that spark...
Yet I still feel like I did then, with the difference that a 14-year-old girl who wants to write but can't, doesn't lose hope as quickly.
I wish I had the faith in writing that I had at 14.
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until-i-devour-you · 2 years
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I NEED AN ADVICE FOR AN OC OF MINE!
Hello, people of Tumblr!
I'm writing a book, it's taking years to be done and I want to be as inclusive as possible, but I'm a white transman, and I'm completely able to do all the LGBTQ+ representation I want - I still need to do some research on some sexualities or gender identities, but still... -, but I'm having trouble with dealing with ocs who aren't white.
I'm not racist at all, but I was raised in a very racist household. I unlearned many things, but I'm still scared of writing something offensive and racists, despite all.
So... I ask for help.
What should avoid with ocs of color and Muslim ocs?
What are the most common stereotypes, and what could be seriously damaging?
I'd like to also bring more attention to MMIW, but I don't know what resources I can trust. Do you have some books to recommend? Is it okay for me to talk about it or about indigenous people in general?
One of my ocs of color is a black girl, and I'd like for her to have an unnatural hair style. Is it okay? Should I avoid it even if her cousin has a more natural hair styles?
Please, can you tell me every advice you have?
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maribellablack · 8 months
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The Countess and Susanna in "The Marriage Of Figaro" by Mozart, sapphic version
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