Archive for the '2. read' Category

Un’ignoranza spaventosa

Tuesday, October 19th, 2021

Non so chi mi abbia messo al mondo, né che cosa sia il mondo, né che cosa io stesso. Sono in un’ignoranza spaventosa di tutto. Non so che cosa siano il mio corpo, i miei sensi, la mia anima e questa stessa parte di me che pensa quel che dico, che medita sopra di tutto e sopra se stessa, e non conosce sé meglio del resto. Vedo quegli spaventosi spazi dell’universo, che mi rinchiudono; e mi trovo confinato in un angolo di questa immensa distesa, senza sapere perché sono collocato qui piuttosto che altrove, né perché questo po’ di tempo che mi è dato da vivere mi sia assegnato in questo momento piuttosto che in un altro di tutta l’eternità che mi ha preceduto e di tutta quella che mi seguirà. Da ogni parte vedo soltanto infiniti, che mi assorbono come un atomo e come un’ombra che dura un’istante, e scompare poi per sempre. Tutto quel che so è che debbo presto morire; ma quel che ignoro di più è, appunto, questa stessa morte, che non posso evitare.
Blaise Pascal, “Pensées”, 194

My Best

Thursday, September 24th, 2020

I hear things in my sleep. I walk around and go to the bathroom and try to brush my teeth and all of the sudden the toothbrush starts vibrating. That’s a groove, you know? You gotta go with that, and that means drop the toothbrush and get down to the studio or get to a bass guitar, quick! My best things have come out like that.



Friday, June 19th, 2020

In un appartamento
non mio, in
cui vivo ogni
tanto, una piccola
pianta sofferente: foglie
strette, stanche, disperate
di luce solare

La sposto, la
nutro, la innaffio;
le do anche
ogni tanto, del
caffè (se fa
bene a me …)

Adesso è un’altra:
irriconoscibile, esuberante, foglie
enormi, da giungla;
evidentemente molto contenta

Chissà quante persone
incluso me, passano
la vita ad
essere piccole, insoddisfatte,
inadeguate rispetto alla
propria potenziale bellezza,
non per mancanza
caratteriale; semplicemente perché
non hanno trovato
le persone giuste,
il posto giusto


Tuesday, April 2nd, 2019

Terry was obediently following the instructions, albeit not looking absolutely sure what purpose it served, until he was asked to let the court know the number of times he had been sent off throughout his Chelsea career.

“Can you say – please – four times?” asked his QC, George Carter-Stephenson. At which point Terry nodded again. “Please … please … please … please.”

Daniel Taylor

Work Immediately

Tuesday, November 20th, 2018

In 1962, he spent a painstaking day lettering a note to himself on a chest of drawers at the end of his bed. “Get up and work immediately,” it said, and he’s been obeying it ever since.

Olivia Laing

Poetic Justice

Tuesday, October 23rd, 2018

My dad told me that nothing is make or break – a single moment to change the rest of your life. He said to me: “It doesn’t work like that. If you have a moment like that and you think it’s gone, just keep going. You’ll get another moment.”

The closest I’ve come to death is when I was hit by a car. My mum had let me bunk off school, I went to cross the road, ran before looking and got hit. It felt like poetic justice.

Romesh Ranganathan

Spaghetti Di Mezzanotte

Tuesday, October 23rd, 2018

At the risk of peddling cliches, it seems that making and eating spaghetti aglio, olio e peperoncino is second nature to most Italians.

Everyone seems to nod in agreement about this classic, thrifty (and very good) combination of four ingredients: spaghetti, aglio (garlic), olio (oil) and peperoncino (chilli) – which can be five if you choose to include prezzemolo (parsley), and six if you count the salt.

Cheap, quick, generous and on the table in 15 minutes, ajo ojo – as they call it in Rome – is a constant in many lives: the answer to quick lunches and pit-stop dinners, and the full-stop to many boozy nights out – hence the name gli spaghetti di mezzanotte (midnight pasta). It is a dish many love like an old friend who, regardless of time, fashion, fads and the weather, just is.

Rachel Roddy


Friday, October 19th, 2018

I waded into the water and it was very soft on my skin and refreshing, a little bit cool but not too cold. It was a nice feeling because the sun was shining and I was very hot. Daddy was begging me to rush so he could watch the World Cup final, but I like to take my time about things so I ignored him.

I was crawling along the bottom of the lake on my arms and knees, looking for stones to skim, when my hand and knee felt something long and hard buried in the clay and sand. I pulled it out and saw that it was different from the sticks or rocks I usually find. One end had a point, and the other had a handle, so I pointed it up to the sky, put my other hand on my hip and called out, “Daddy, I’ve found a sword!”

I felt like a warrior, but Daddy said I looked like Pippi Longstocking. The sword felt rough and hard, and I got some sticky, icky brown rust on my hands. It started to bend and Daddy splashed up to me, and said I should let him hold it. It was my sword and now he was taking it away! I gave it to him in the end.

I ran to my mamma and my mormor – my grandma – and some other relatives who were all sitting outside having fika, which is Swedish for having a sit-down with coffee and cookies. I was yelling, “I found a sword, I found a sword!” Daddy went to show it to our neighbours, whose family has lived in the village for more than 100 years, and they said it looked like a Viking sword. Daddy didn’t get to watch the football in the end.

Saga Vanecek


Friday, October 19th, 2018

The choir need a song to sing – that’s why they’re the choir! They need a song to pull them out of despair, and need to light a fire underneath themselves.

Michael Moore


Wednesday, October 17th, 2018

A new study of those taking up the guitar has found that half of new learners are women and girls, suggesting that the future of rock, metal and indie might just be 50% female.

The Guardian