"All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered."

Ripasso del giorno prima

I am a man who walks alone
And when Im walking a dark road
At night or strolling through the park

When the light begins to change
I sometimes feel a little strange
A little anxious when its dark

Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a constant fear that someones always near
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a phobia that someones allways there

Have you run your fingers down the wall
And have you felt your neck skin crawl
When youre searching for the light?
Sometimes when youre scared to take a look
At the corner of the room
Youve sensed that somethings watching you

Have you ever been alone at night
Thought you heard footsteps behind
And turned around and no ones there?
And as you quicken up your pace
You find it hard to look again
Because youre sure theres someone there

Watching horror films the night before
Debating wiches and folklore
The unkown troubles on your mind
Maybe your mind is playing tricks
You sense and suddenly eyes fix
On dancing shadows from behind

Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a constant fear that someones always near
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a phobia that someones allways there

When Im walking a dark road
I am a man who walkes alone

comics and illustration

Leo Ortolani, Tapum

A un certo punto ci sarà una battuta, in questo fumetto, e riderete. Sappiate che è l’unica. Com’è giusto che sia. Se devo paragonare quest’opera a qualcosa, il confronto più azzeccato è probabilmente lo spettacolo che Marco Paolini trasse dal Sergente nella neve di Rigoni

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Summertime

Omeros in the Caribbeans

Derek Walcott was a Saint Lucian poet, playwright, and painter, and one of the major voices of Caribbean literature. He won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1992, and his work often explores Caribbean history, identity, colonial inheritance, and the meeting of European and African

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books and literature

Ioanna Papadopoulou’s The Castaway and the Witch

I had a genuine “oh shit” moment when I read the author’s preface saying this was darker than “Winter Harvest” because – and I absolutely ADORED “Winter Harvest” – that was pitch-black dark. I thought “we’re all going to die”. This maybe has something to

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4 Comments
  • brianzolitudine
    Posted at 18:40h, 03 December Reply

    Chi l’avrebbe detto che ti piacessero gli Iron!

  • Shelidon
    Posted at 10:12h, 04 December Reply

    Non sono il mio gruppo preferito (ammesso che ne abbia uno), ma mi piacciono molto *___^

    E ieri sera sono stati davvero grandi.

  • brianzolitudine
    Posted at 10:35h, 04 December Reply

    We! Sono un vecchietto, ma i Red Hot me gustano assai! :)

    Mi riconosco tuttavia molto molto di più nel sulfureo e tenebroso Keith, degnamente armato di telecaster e siringa.

  • Shelidon
    Posted at 11:03h, 04 December Reply

    Oh beh, Keith è Keith.

    “Everyone talks about rock these days; the problem is they forget about the roll.”

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Leo Ortolani, Tapum

A un certo punto ci sarà una battuta, in questo fumetto, e riderete. Sappiate che è l’unica. Com’è giusto che sia. Se devo paragonare quest’opera a qualcosa, il confronto più azzeccato è probabilmente lo spettacolo che Marco Paolini trasse dal Sergente nella neve di Rigoni

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Omeros in the Caribbeans

Derek Walcott was a Saint Lucian poet, playwright, and painter, and one of the major voices of Caribbean literature. He won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1992, and his work often explores Caribbean history, identity, colonial inheritance, and the meeting of European and African

Read More

Ioanna Papadopoulou’s The Castaway and the Witch

I had a genuine “oh shit” moment when I read the author’s preface saying this was darker than “Winter Harvest” because – and I absolutely ADORED “Winter Harvest” – that was pitch-black dark. I thought “we’re all going to die”. This maybe has something to

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