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Why ... when I'm behind the lens I see my world.
Before me is the reality, but the lens is interposed between my eye and what is the tangible world.
I put into place. Legs apart, knees slightly bent. My hands hold the machine: A ready to shoot, the other lens.
look good on my subject. I focus. And at that moment the reality is no more. There's just my world. Click
. Everything disappears for a moment. The time to steal a breath of soul. The air is trapped in the lungs, inflating them and remains there.
capture a moment that there will never be and will live only in memory. I take the lens from the eye e. .. everything is as before.

Taking too many photos. At that time are beautiful and full of meaning. Then time passes, they remain there ... everything changes and they do not.
You realize after a while that the photos you've taken the previous year reflecting something that now is no more. Here comes the melancholy
e. .. everything keeps changing, but they do not.

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The idea here is to Alexandra ... thanks! ; and public ...
There was a promise of dedication ... in my heart! Thoughts are excited to have provoked an avalanche e. .. roll, roll, there has been heading. I do not remember. It 'been a picture of a pair of eyes squeezed, but curious ... cowards once opened and then, Zacchi, closed. "In the end it went well." I heard that. With the moon rained in the evening brilliant newspaper articles. And interviews with hot.
It was worth it ...

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capture moments between the plate and iron deficiency

Today I went to the hairdresser. He was very
waiting for me, her hair was in total depression and needed to eliminate those peaks that unraveled branched, nesting, intertwined, proliferate as branches of my head.
I do wash your hair, then I sit, Assunta bestrides the brush cutter and start cutting everything and more.
hair dryer, it makes me a wrinkle smooth, easy-to-good girl and I was ready to go home.
of a sudden I check from behind a guy in his seventies intent to investigate.
"How old is he?" he asks politely. "17" I replied with a smile. Assunta
turns to the man and asks: "What do you mean you think this girl has iron deficiency?"
The man do more than "Well it's obvious!" exclaims, and I think "but what obvious? from what you see?".
"I think the girl here- is he still with that air of one who knows a lot-also has an irregular cycle "I am puzzled by the emergence
blush.
" True? "he presses, I feel embarrassed so I answer with a" ... already "
" eh sisi you see, "he says, and I keep thinking" but from what? "
Then begins his monologue by great actor. The bull's eye is upon him and all the rest obscure.
"Well young lady you see, she is 17 years old, has a skin stiffened by a few pimples here and there, this makes me think that she definitely will not have a homogeneous distribution and continuous hormone, most likely a girl will also be moody, his brain will not be enough oxygen and this will certainly be the door to a nice little girl ... I say that this provision ulterirmente somewhat sporadic, the hormones also leads to water retention on the buttocks, which will certainly not feel at ease with itself and cause a problem of socialization ... I think that if she had not a girl like that would be attractive even a few friends because her character makes it rather unpleasant ... but the new generation tends apparently knows no more privacy than once .. "I was nothing short
upset and while he was still rocking in her voice I thought, "Who are you? Who asked you anything? But above all you come to me to talk about privacy that I have analyzed all the holes of my legs without cellulite that I take it even jeans? you that they're filling these holes so many stupid things that I now have a bigger ass than Jennifer Lopez! You come to me talk about my friends and my good looks after me said that dead bodies are WHITE IRON DEFICIENCY WITH THE Big Butt pimples and cellulite ???!!!... but I'll swear I'll burn the house, you lame the dog and I'll kill the children! "
" But .. "
" Yes ... but if she interrupts me though! "he says with air impatiently.
" Excuse me, "I replied politely
... bla bla bla ... I think she still manages to fill its hormonal imbalances with its intelligence ... I think she is a girl, however brilliant, but it uses intelligence as a center of attraction and not as a communication tool ... blablabla "he continued with his jargon that great doctor and I kept thinking," What are you saying? But what does it mean? But you will not be bored listening to his voice ???.... but no! I can not go wrong ... so do the relatives dottorone and then tell me if my wife SI offers make up a prescription?! but should be back in Milan ... Tornaco "
After an hour and a half we were still there ... I am dumb as a fish and he finally ends up to celebrate itself ...
his foul language.
" You do not say anything? " he says with a satisfied air.
"Well said everything .... thank you and goodbye "I get up and I'm leaving.
Well, after all, also said that he thinks are a very intelligent girl, beautiful, two qualities in a thousand is not a bad result! ... but what I do not understand how he managed to talk for an hour and a half to figure out my whole person and to reach this conclusion only by domada, "according to her she has iron deficiency?"

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The lifeblood

In the garden had been planted a cherry tree, namely the previous winter.
The tree was grown and on its branches in the spring, was born a first fagliolina. Verde alive. She was so small and her eyes so beautiful.
They held each other tight tight. Following the tree was filled with other leaves. All beautiful, but none of them could compete with her.
The leaf, the first course, gave birth to the first flower. White. They were held tight.
Slowly the tree was full of white flowers ... but no one could compete with that first flower and leaves with his beloved first.
Gins then the summer, the flower, the first, gave the result: a cherry red as if they had never seen one.
was hanging on the leaves. All together not leave for any reason. Other cherries
broke free from the branches ... but none of them was like that little icing, leaf and fruit of his love of his beloved flower.
was the 'fall.
She was already the smell of chestnuts in the streets. Moisture came in the bones and all nature was changing its colors. The cherry
began to lose their leaves.
He did not care for them ... knew they were there just a frame ... but now the thought is turned to its first leaf, the green one vivid memory? He turned. It was still there was now a deep red.

"is even more beautiful than the first time I saw her," thought the tree.

The winter was cold, some leaves fell from the branches and the tree did not care, he turned his thoughts only and only its leaves.
yellow with sull'arancio.
"More and more beautiful," thought the tree.
They were held tight.

The wind was strong, some leaves fell from the branches ... He just thought its sweet leaves.
He turned to admire her but still ... she was gone.
was seized with terror ... froze the sap to the roots.
looking at the ground. There she is ... ... wet from the rain touched by the wind.
He looked at her and said nothing.
"I'll be with you again soon ..." said the leaves become dry.
The tree did not understand these words. The leaf was absorbed by the ground and decompose.
He spent the winter and the tree was always more ... sad without its leaf without its flower, fruit ... without his
He returned in the spring and everything came to life, even the tree awoke from his slumber.
invade ... He felt a new life as he took nourishment from the ground he noticed something different.
At that moment he understood the words that the leaf had given him before leaving altogether.
"She is back with me," he thought.

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Nara



In some places you can feel a strong spirituality, animals and human beings are like brothers, curious, we study and approach each other without a shadow of evil

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Delirium (who can read this posting seven wins in Latin) The final number

So today was the day like many others, and for that very reason deserves to be told (it is the days when nothing happens again to be the most beautiful).

So I decided to wake up early to finish to study physics, a field somewhat tricky, but when the alarm has decided to play at 6, I decided to take another half hour of sleep.
At 6 and a half times the alarm sounds again, but I decided to turn it off ... I have not the strength to open your eyes! At 7
get my father for making me get up in the room and decides to jump to fish on the bed. I do bear with the advertising of snacks, I head, rumbling toward the kitchen.
And here the first moment of terror, no coffee!
He had finished my sweet daddy. I decided to suppress my killer instinct and direct me in the bathroom.
finished preparing go out: the hair menopeggio bag slipped from one shoulder only because the other shoulder backpack was half destroyed, the shoes still untied for the haste and physics book in hand from which fly pages that end up fluttering along the stairwell.

Arrive at school, oddly enough time, and go down the hall.
My classmates are all well: I do not! I need a coffee! now!
but of course I forgot ... I can not take the money out of haste. Log
Professor of Physics who decides to spare, another preferred prey. An endless series of "bla bla" and various exercises that I do not understand, but I pretend to understand in order to convince myself to be able to understand!
I think physicists are all stupid, I do not want to be mean but my book says that:
when you press a toothpaste tube from the entrance DOUGH COMES TO THE PRINCIPLE OF PASCAL.
But we reason that an attempt to find an explanation for why a toothpaste leaves the tube is not well! But above all, should not have anything to do!
Think of a woman with three children who does the shopping, washing clothes, ironing, stretching, sewing, bring their children to school, the dog to pee, bring lunch to her husband at work, preparing dinner: There will never have time to think about crap like that! did not care to know why the toothpaste leaves the tube! He has too many things to think about and if maybe he thought the toothpaste also stretch the children, would bring the husband to pee in the park, bring lunch to Marari washed clothes and the dog would send him to school!
's why I think the physical, to be such, must not have anything to do!
However, flying over the next hour is to chemistry. One hour of reaction! I crossed my eyes ... were 9 and I was without coffee! my brains vomited blood, but the hour ends and get the range. I go out I take a breath of fresh air. Bea came to me and said: "Please, I suggest you question me now in Latin! I know nothing!" and I "Ok I'll quiet."
Back in the classroom and 4 girls are questioned in Sallust, I am on the second bench, the best prompter the whole institution!
Profs: "Beatrice cariora what does it mean?"
IO: "More care"
Bea: "Well it means ..."
ME: "The more expensive!"
Bea: "here is to mean more expensive"
Profs: "Exactly," I
"Fiu"
short so the whole question. Bea took seven and I felt just one Latin.
school hours end with an hour of history and philosophy with my favorite teacher, even though 2 hours straight of the same professor make you regret being born, always remains the favorite prof.

ride home was a series of ugly events: The Mother of soup with vegetables, repetitions of mathematics (finite repetitions have been waiting for 1 hour in the rain with mother of Jehovah's Witnesses who sought to redeem my soul from sin), talks with Professor (which after all went well, too bad for 4:30 in mathematics ) and it all ended with a discussion at dinner with my father.

After a day like I would want to throw hand grenades, but then I think the fact that often much worse than spend days and then now I'm listening to Kiss by Prince how can you not be happy?

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Hidden among the leaves

Hidden in the Leaves is the title and Link to this blog, everything is born by the name Hagakure, one of the many names that I use to hide my identity on the Internet, and Hagakure in Japanese literally means hidden among the leaves.

This blog was born from my need to score some ideas and maybe see these concepts from your point of view, do some advertising to my passions, including art, music, video games, movies and more, unfortunately I do not have much time to update the blog but I will try to do it;)

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At first glance it seemed already a woman. She wore her hair the best in the neck: color brown ramato.La mouth fresh as a daisy in May and eyes crystal prevented anyone from coming into contact with anything that can not affect its appearance.


"tonight you deserve the final number" had told her. 10 years who were working on at the circus, always waiting for that sentence. Finally the day arrived. Yet there was something wrong. He did not know exactly what it was, but it was as if he had no desire for that life.
The final number was the one who claimed to be a circus came to the end of his carrira, he learned everything there was to learn. Natalie
That evening he sat, as always, in the mirror. Taken powder, false eyelashes, lipstick (bright red, of course), dark pencil and placed it gently all over his face.
was ready.

"Ladies and gentleman for the last number of the evening we present the stunts on fabrics of our pearl, our May rose: Natalie!"
broke the thunderous applause of the audience and then: silence.

was at the top. looked at all from above. white light lit up her face. He left the music.
She gave up her body, totally supports him: graceful wrapping it between the fabric soft and indulged.
The music sped up his pace, and his beats were synchronized with those of his heart.
Il respiro si faceva sempre più corto e lei si sentiva invadere da tutte le emozioni possibili.
La musica cessò, le luci si spensero.
Natalie si voltò. Tutti gli artisti  scesero nell'arena. Lei tornò nel camerino.

"Lascio qui, su questo foglio, il trucco, il sudore e la gioia che tutta questa esperienza mi ha regalato. L'attesa è valsa più del sogno"
                                                                                                                                     Rosa May.

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Freedom

had told me not to, but I had this obsession since I was a child.
dreamed of flying and I wanted to do it freely, without invasive means too that keeps me from feeling a 'eagle.
was what I called it: the eagle.
I've never listened when you mock me behind my back. No, they did not understand and I do not care. I have always lived with only my dreams, I have always been enough.

That day, after months of research and information, I went to the top of the mountain. The cold air cut through me like a sharp knife face and my stomach twisted, I gripped bites of fear: she my faithful friend, always accompanied me on every trip, every experience, never leaves me.

The mist obscured the view, but I knew that mountain in memory, not even the most needed him.
I had also dreamed a thousand times: I knew every stone.
I tied the rope in the setpoint. Seemed to hold up well.
lit a cigarette. I like to smoke prior to any experience. Calmed me, reassured me, I rocked the mind and makes my body lighter. Every shot seemed like a breath of life. The cigarette was over ... the air just smoked it for me, I thought that maybe it was better that way.

I took a look at the still barren land, bare like me any reassurance.
I was well connected. I felt ready. I approached the precipice opened wings e. .. I became an eagle.