Grim Reaper

He walks around the world, and to him neither money nor fame makes any difference. When the time has come, he collects us and brings us to the next world, to Valhalla, to paradise, to eternity, our next life or wherever we hope he’ll be taking us.

The only thing we can be really sure of is that he’ll come for us one day, that he’s not interested in negotiations whatever filmmakers like to think, and that he knows exactly what he’s doing. After all, he’s been doing it for quite a while now.

On love

Just a few tables away from where I'm sitting. He's so much in love, he smiles at her, at everyone around, at the potted flowers, he’s just so full of smiles. I can see the stars flying around him, I can literally see them flying from his twinkling eyes to her.

There are no stars around her, and the smiles seem forced. When he leans forwards she leans backwards, when he leans backwards she relaxes. It’s like they are choreographed, but not together.

His stars brighten the entire restaurant, but when he gets up to leave the kiss lands on her cheek. He’s still smiling, strokes her hair and goes away, no dances away. He waves from the entrance and is gone. With him all the stars left.

She picks up her phone, dials a number. Her voice sounds tired and a little flat.

I fear this story ends with one heart broken. Perhaps even two.

What's in a name?

My screen name – Morrica – was given to me by the person who knows me better than anybody else in the world: me. It’s a name that represents me, rather than the name given to me by birth which represents my parents at that time.

It turns out, however, pronouncing it is not as easy as I think. I have heard many different, very creative, versions. Actually, it’s quiet simple: Do you know how to pronounce Morticia, as in Morticia Addams? Good, just copy the intonation, which seems to be the hardest part, and remember the c is a hard c.

That’s all.

The romantic point of view vs the classical

Many many years ago I read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance for the very first time. It was the first time I saw put into words the cultural crash that I was encountering every single day, and couldn't understand.

I have read and reread the book a few times since then, to remind myself that even if people have a totally different way of seeing the world it is still possible to get along. It's even possible to have a good time together, enjoy things together and love each other.

The first post in a new blog

The feeling is similar to the feeling you have the first day of the school year, when you open the door to the class room to greet the new students. Even if you know some of them, perhaps all, it’s been a long time since you last met, and much has happened. Who are they? As individuals, and as a group? And who will you be, with them?

Welcome.