<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303</id><updated>2011-12-05T14:55:47.130+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Daysleeper (il blog cantasogni)</title><subtitle type='html'>Hai mai sognato?
Sicuramente, almeno una volta nella tua vita, sì.
Ultimamente mi sono accorta di sognare molto, così ho deciso di dar vita a un blog che fungesse da vetrina per i miei sogni, notturni e non.
Se anche a te viene voglia di raccontarne uno dei tuoi, ti basta mandare un'e-mail, per poterlo leggere tra le pagine di Daysleeper.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303.post-111471005927400864</id><published>2005-04-28T19:31:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-28T19:42:52.030+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Un sogno (di Mario) - A dream (by Mario)</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.buzznet.com/assets/users6/ranocchia/default/gallery-msg-1109591129-2.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daysleeper,&lt;br /&gt;ho trovato del tempo per raccontare un sogno. Come?&lt;br /&gt;Standomene un intero sabato a casa a pensare con delle belle emicranie primaverili.&lt;br /&gt;Cercavo qualcosa che potesse finalmente identificare il mio stato d'animo qui e ora e quello che volevo era solo non essere trovato per essere trovato.&lt;br /&gt;Devo dire che il mio rapporto con gli altri è totalmente atipico.&lt;br /&gt;Una questione di carattere, perchè sono deciso.&lt;br /&gt;Dico a tutti: "Non mi piace essere protagonista."&lt;br /&gt;Modesto?&lt;br /&gt;NO grazie. Non mi va di essere modesto. Decido semplicemente di non tirare fuori tutta quella arroganza e superbia di cui sono possessore.&lt;br /&gt;E non sapete quanta ce n'è.&lt;br /&gt;Se ne potrebbe riempire l'Italia.&lt;br /&gt;Provo a controllarlo. Forgio il mio carattere. Non reprimo i miei istinti. La mia coscienza filtra i miei istinti. Gradirei essere chiamato coscienzioso ogni tanto.&lt;br /&gt;Sarebbe il più bel complimento da parte di qualcuno. Una grande coscienza rappresenta un essere buono.&lt;br /&gt;Qualcuno che riesce a dosare a punto giusto arroganza superbia e modestia.&lt;br /&gt;C'è una falla nel sistema, ne sono certo.&lt;br /&gt;Una volta lo chiamavano Graal, oggi Internet.&lt;br /&gt;Il sistema cambia il suo nome continuamente.&lt;br /&gt;Abbiamo delle doti innate.&lt;br /&gt;Vedo gente scannarsi per un pozzo di petrolio. Stringersi la mano quando muore un Papa.&lt;br /&gt;Mi rendo conto che non deve essere semplice stare accanto dopo che ci si è sparati addosso fino ad un'ora prima.&lt;br /&gt;Il mio sogno è poter dire tutto a tutti. Pagarne le conseguenze. Non si facciano orecchie da mercante a questo avviso. Non riduciamo un rapporto a meri atti di malizia.&lt;br /&gt;Immagino proprio che l'unico essere umano sulla Terra avrà tutto a sua disposizione ma morirà presto perchè ha reso davvero alienante un pianeta dove la semplice Natura ci ha fatto sopravvivere per miliardi di anni e dove ognuno riesce a guardare soltanto davanti a se.&lt;br /&gt;Sinceramente non voglio questo cammino dinanzi a me.&lt;br /&gt;Rinuncio ad essere unico ma sopravviverò.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;English version&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daysleeper,&lt;br /&gt;I've found the time to tell you a dream. How?&lt;br /&gt;Staying a whole saturday at home thinking, with wonderful spring-migrains.&lt;br /&gt;I was looking for something that really identifies my mood here and now, and I only didn't want to be found, but to be found.&lt;br /&gt;I have to say that my relationship with the others is totally atypical.&lt;br /&gt;It's a  matter of nature, 'cause I'm resolute.&lt;br /&gt;I say to everyone: "I don't like to be a protagonist".&lt;br /&gt;Unpretentious?&lt;br /&gt;NO, thanks. I don't want to be like this. I simply decide to avoid being arrogant and proud.&lt;br /&gt;And you couldn't  imagine how much.&lt;br /&gt;With my arrogance and pride you can fill up the whole Italy.&lt;br /&gt;I try to control it. I shape my nature. I don't hold back my instinct. My conscience filters my instinct. I'll be glad to be called conscientious, every few.&lt;br /&gt;It would be the best compliment paid by someone. A great conscience represents a good being.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who succeedes to measure out perfectly arrogance and unpretentiousness.&lt;br /&gt;There's a leak in the system, I'm sure.&lt;br /&gt;Once they used to call it Graal, now it's the Internet.&lt;br /&gt;The system constantly changes its name.&lt;br /&gt;We have inborn gifts.&lt;br /&gt;I see people that slaughter to own oil-wells. Shaking their hands when a Pope dies.&lt;br /&gt;I realize that it's diffcult to stay so close, if just an hour ago they were doing a war.&lt;br /&gt;My dream is saying everything to everyone. Paying for it. Everyone should hear this advice. Don't let that a relationship becomes sheere malice.&lt;br /&gt;I think that the only human being on Earth  will have everything, but he'll soon die, because he made disinclined a planet where Nature made us survive for billions years and where everyione can't look beyond his nose.&lt;br /&gt;I sincerely don't want this path ahead.&lt;br /&gt;I give up being one and only, but I'll survive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10106303-111471005927400864?l=the-daysleeper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/111471005927400864/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10106303&amp;postID=111471005927400864' title='18 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111471005927400864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111471005927400864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/2005/04/un-sogno-di-mario-dream-by-mario.html' title='Un sogno (di Mario) - A dream (by Mario)'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303.post-111390624163794188</id><published>2005-04-19T12:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-19T12:24:01.636+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Arrabbiata - Angry</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.buzznet.com/assets/users6/archivio/default/gallery-msg-1112868022-2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ieri notte ho sognato di tornare a Londra.&lt;br /&gt;Entro nell'hotel in cui avevo alloggiato la prima volta e vedo che la maggior parte dei miei migliori amici lavora lì.&lt;br /&gt;Vivono tutti insieme nella stessa casa, così mi danno le chiavi e mi dicono: "Appena finiamo di lavorare ti arggiungiamo, così ti facciamo girare Londra".&lt;br /&gt;Non potete immaginare quanta rabbia ho provato in quel momento.&lt;br /&gt;I miei amici vivono nella città in cui vorrei vivere io, lavorano tutti, mentre io faccio la turista e per di più vogliono guidarmi in una città che conosco meglio di loro!&lt;br /&gt;Incredibile!&lt;br /&gt;Mi sono svegliata un pò disorientata: ero arrabbiata con i miei amici perchè avevano quello che non avevo io, o forse ero arrabbiata con me stessa per non essere in grado di affrontare le mie responsabilità e rendermi autonoma da tutto e tutti?&lt;br /&gt;Ancora non lo so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;English version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I've dreamt of going back to London.&lt;br /&gt;I enter the hotel where I lodged the first time and I see that the most of my best friends are working there.&lt;br /&gt;They're living all together in the same house, so they give me the keys and say to me: "We'll join you when we finish, so we'll guide you making a tour of London".&lt;br /&gt;You cold not imagine how much anger I felt that time.&lt;br /&gt;My friends live in the city where I want to live, evryone of them works, while I'm doing the tourist ando moreover they want to giude me into a city that I know better than them!&lt;br /&gt;Icredible!&lt;br /&gt;I woke up a little bit disorientated: was I angry with my friends 'casue they had what I didn't, or maybe was I angry with myself for not being able to face my responsibilities, and being independent from everything and everyone?&lt;br /&gt;I still don't know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10106303-111390624163794188?l=the-daysleeper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/111390624163794188/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10106303&amp;postID=111390624163794188' title='5 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111390624163794188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111390624163794188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/2005/04/arrabbiata-angry.html' title='Arrabbiata - Angry'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303.post-111262917619840807</id><published>2005-04-04T17:37:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-04T17:39:36.200+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Basta! - Stop!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.buzznet.com/assets/users6/ranocchia/default/gallery-msg-1112629085-2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ho sognato di dire "Basta!".&lt;br /&gt;Basta con tutti questi tg assillanti che parlano solo della morte del Papa.&lt;br /&gt;Mi piaceva come figura, è stato grande, da vivo.&lt;br /&gt;Ma adesso è morto.&lt;br /&gt;Esagerando con celebrazioni e biografie si supera il limite di sopportazione.&lt;br /&gt;Roma è diventata l'ombelico del mondo, mentre ci si dimentica di tutto il resto.&lt;br /&gt;E' ora di tornare alla normalità.&lt;br /&gt;Come dice il proverbio: "morto un Papa se ne fa un altro".&lt;br /&gt;Beh, io non vedo l'ora.&lt;br /&gt;Perdonate l'aggressività, ma davvero non se ne può più!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;English version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've dreamt to say "Stop!".&lt;br /&gt;Stop all those harassing that only deal with the Pope's death.&lt;br /&gt;I liked him, he's been great, when he was alive.&lt;br /&gt;But now he's dead.&lt;br /&gt;Overstating with celebrations and biographies they're crossing the endurance limit.&lt;br /&gt;Rome has become the core of the world, while they forget all the rest.&lt;br /&gt;It's time to come back to normality.&lt;br /&gt;As an (italian) adage says: "when a Pope dies, we'll get soon another one".&lt;br /&gt;I look forward.&lt;br /&gt;Would you forgive my aggressiveness, but I really have had enough!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10106303-111262917619840807?l=the-daysleeper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/111262917619840807/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10106303&amp;postID=111262917619840807' title='11 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111262917619840807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111262917619840807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/2005/04/basta-stop.html' title='Basta! - Stop!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303.post-111192142621922435</id><published>2005-03-27T12:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-03-29T20:04:01.776+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Compleanno - Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.mormonchic.com/crafty/images/announcements-cards/inspiration/happy-birthday-lg.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sto sognando che oggi è il mio 22° compleanno!&lt;br /&gt;Sono più vecchia e la cosa mi infastidisce!&lt;br /&gt;Buon compleanno a me!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;English version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm dreaming that today's my 22nd birthday!&lt;br /&gt;I'm older and this bothers me!&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday to me!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10106303-111192142621922435?l=the-daysleeper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/111192142621922435/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10106303&amp;postID=111192142621922435' title='15 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111192142621922435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111192142621922435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/2005/03/compleanno-birthday.html' title='Compleanno - Birthday'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303.post-111157262363107779</id><published>2005-03-23T12:08:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T12:14:30.026+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Innamorarsi di una città -  Falling in love with a city</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.buzznet.com/assets/users6/ranocchia/default/gallery-msg-1111257076-2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ho sognato di tornare a Londra.&lt;br /&gt;Grande, complessa, multietnica e stimolante.&lt;br /&gt;Un posto in cui dovresti vivere almeno per un pò nella tua  vita.&lt;br /&gt;Per forza!&lt;br /&gt;Il suo fascino è difficile da descrivere, ma facilissimo da percepire.&lt;br /&gt;Una volta vista non puoi più scordarla, e anche se non ci vivrai mai a lungo, Londra resterà sempre casa tua.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;English version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've dreamt to come back to London.&lt;br /&gt;Great, complicated, multiethnic and stimulating.&lt;br /&gt;A place where you have to live for a while in your life, at least.&lt;br /&gt;Of course!&lt;br /&gt;It's charm is hard to describe, but very easy to perceive.&lt;br /&gt;Once you've seen it, you'll never forget it, and even if you won't live there too long, London will always be your home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10106303-111157262363107779?l=the-daysleeper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/111157262363107779/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10106303&amp;postID=111157262363107779' title='4 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111157262363107779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111157262363107779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/2005/03/innamorarsi-di-una-citt-falling-in.html' title='Innamorarsi di una città -  Falling in love with a city'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303.post-111039235428432416</id><published>2005-03-09T20:09:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T20:45:18.593+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Qualcuno mi ha detto - Someone told me</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.google.it/images?q=tbn:0yjLvP9FSgEJ:www.eviltrailmix.com/ppp/bother.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stanotte, in sogno, qualcuno mi ha detto:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lo scocciatore è colui che ti toglie il piacere della solitudine, ma non ti dà il piacere della compagnia".&lt;br /&gt;Mi sembra una frase molto saggia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;English version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tonight, while I was dreaming, someone told me:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bother is who divests you of the plaisure of solitariness, but doesn't give you the plaisure of company".&lt;br /&gt;I think it looks like a really wise sentence!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10106303-111039235428432416?l=the-daysleeper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/111039235428432416/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10106303&amp;postID=111039235428432416' title='6 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111039235428432416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111039235428432416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/2005/03/qualcuno-mi-ha-detto-someone-told-me.html' title='Qualcuno mi ha detto - Someone told me'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303.post-111011758251122131</id><published>2005-03-06T15:53:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T20:29:16.710+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Davanti a me - In front of me</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.buzznet.com/assets/categories6/whatisit/thumb-1110392842-msg-22416-3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Genere:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sogno ad occhi aperti e notturno&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sono in aeroporto, seduta su una panca.&lt;br /&gt;Aspetto qualcuno che venga a prendermi.&lt;br /&gt;Non riesco a vederlo.&lt;br /&gt;Aspetto un po'.&lt;br /&gt;Ancora un altro po'.&lt;br /&gt;Niente.&lt;br /&gt;Mi preoccupo.&lt;br /&gt;GLi faccio squillare il cellulare.&lt;br /&gt;Non risponde.&lt;br /&gt;Sto male.&lt;br /&gt;Ho paura di rimanere da sola, in un posto pieno di gente che non conosco.&lt;br /&gt;Comincio a guardare tra la folla.&lt;br /&gt;Magari nemmeno lui riesce a trovarmi.&lt;br /&gt;Valigie che scorrono sul pavimento, parole che cambiano sui tabelloni, facce che appaiono e scompaiono, ma non riesco a vedere la sua.&lt;br /&gt;Sto per andarmene, ma dove?&lt;br /&gt;Devo restare lì e aspettare.&lt;br /&gt;Continuo a fissare la gente seduta di fronte a me.&lt;br /&gt;Ognuno ha da fare qualcosa: leggere il giornale, dormire, ascoltare musica, chiacchierare.&lt;br /&gt;Solo io sto zitta e osservo.&lt;br /&gt;Osservo con accuratezza tutte le facce che vedo davanti a me.&lt;br /&gt;All'improvviso qualcuno mi tocca il braccio.&lt;br /&gt;Panico.&lt;br /&gt;Poi! pace.&lt;br /&gt;Finalmente!&lt;br /&gt;L'ho trovato, anzi mi ha trovata!&lt;br /&gt;"Sono seduto accanto a te da più di mezz'ora, ma non te ne sei accorta. Hai guardato sempre davanti, ma mai accanto a te".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Retrospettiva:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Metafora del mio modo di fare?&lt;br /&gt;Probabilmente.&lt;br /&gt;Guardo sempre avanti (e non è un difetto), ma spesso mi dimentico di chi mi sta accanto.&lt;br /&gt;Dovrei togliere i paraocchi e fare più attenzione a chi mi è vicino...&lt;br /&gt;...di solito mi è sempre di grande aiuto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;English version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Genre:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night- and daydream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at the airport, sitting on a bench.&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for somebody who comes to pick me up.&lt;br /&gt;I can't see him.&lt;br /&gt;I wait for a while.&lt;br /&gt;Still waiting.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;I get worried.&lt;br /&gt;Making his phone ringing.&lt;br /&gt;I can't suit well.&lt;br /&gt;Frightened to be left alone, in a place full of unknown people.&lt;br /&gt;I start looking through the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he doesn't either find me.&lt;br /&gt;Suitcases rolling on the floor, words changing on the boards, faces tha appear and disappear, but I can't see his. &lt;br /&gt;I'm going to go, but where?&lt;br /&gt;I have to stay there and wait.&lt;br /&gt;I keep on staring people sitting in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has something to do: reading the newspaper, sleeping, listening to the music, chalking.&lt;br /&gt;I'm the only one keeping quiet and watching.&lt;br /&gt;I observe accurately every single face I see in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly someone's touching my arm.&lt;br /&gt;Panic.&lt;br /&gt;Then peace.&lt;br /&gt;At last!&lt;br /&gt;I've found him, or rather he's found me!&lt;br /&gt;"I have been sitting close to you for more than half an hour, but you didn't realize. You've been watching all the time in front of you, but never near you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Background:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A metaphor of my behaviour?&lt;br /&gt;Probably.&lt;br /&gt;I always look forward (and it's not a lack), but I often forget who stays by my side.&lt;br /&gt;I should take off my blinkers and pay much more attention to who's next to me...&lt;br /&gt;...they're usually really helpful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10106303-111011758251122131?l=the-daysleeper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/111011758251122131/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10106303&amp;postID=111011758251122131' title='6 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111011758251122131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/111011758251122131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/2005/03/davanti-me-in-front-of-me.html' title='Davanti a me - In front of me'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303.post-110952973660889242</id><published>2005-02-27T20:39:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-03-06T16:13:54.623+02:00</updated><title type='text'>L'ippopotamo felice - The happy hippo</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.childrenwithspecialneeds.com/pecs/pictures/animals/hippo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ho sognato di leggere questo:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sii come l'ippopotamo, che è felice nel sole e altrettanto felice nel fango.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sii come l'ippopotamo, che non si capisce mai se è in acqua o fuori&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sii come l'ippopotamo, che quando la luna è una grande camelia canta all'ippopotama la sua canzone d'amore senza preoccuparsi se la sua voce è sgraziata e dagli alberi piove giù di tutto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sii come due ippopotami, che si baciano sullo sfondo dell'orizzonte e la loro ombra sembra un grande pavesino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sii come l'ippopotamo, che dopo aver a lungo ippocopulato non chiede all'ippopotama "mi ami?" perché è ovvio che con un ippopotamo si può andare solo per amore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sii come l'ippopotamo, sempre educato al bar, nelle file per i documenti e in treno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sii come l'ippopotamo educato, che fa i suoi bisogni appartato.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sii come l'ippopotamo, che quando pesta una merda di ippopotamo fa finta di niente e dice "qu'est-ce que c'est ça?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sii come l'ippopotamo che quando sente sopraggiungere la fine saluta il branco e corre nella valle del cimitero degli ippopotami morenti, dove un'ultima volta si beve, si mangia e si scopa senza più alcun ritegno e vergogna e alla fine della festa muore solo un ippopotamo e si scopre che tutti gli altri erano degli infiltrati, sanissimi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sii come l'ippopotamo che muore col sorriso sulle labbra e subito il grande Potamanka il muscoloso dio alato lo raccolse tra le braccia e lo portò in cielo ove sono nuvole e fiori meravigliosi e acqua tersa, e l'ippopotamo deluso disse "non si potrebbe avere una bella palude merdosa?" e Potamanka adirato lo lanciò a terra, e l'ippopotamo cadde e ove cadde creò il Sacro Cratere del lago Ngoro-Ngoro e l'ippopotamo perforò la pelle rugosa del mondo e precipitò nell'inferno ove vive felice attuffato nella merda con gli amici e quando si sposta causa i terremoti e quando nuota provoca i geyser e mostra a tutti la sua semplice verità:&lt;br /&gt;e cioè che il paradiso è ovunque tu ti senti in paradiso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stefano Benni&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Il mio scrittore preferito)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PS:&lt;/strong&gt; Mi dispiace per la mia lunga assenza dalla blogosfera, ma lo studio è importante!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;English version:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've dreamt to read this:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be like the hippo: as happy in the sun, as in the mud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be like the hippo: making difficult to understand if he's in or out of the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be like the hippo: when the moon looks like a great flower, he sings to his beloved a love song without worrying if his voice is ungraceful, and everything staying on the trees goes down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be like two hippoes: they kiss each other facing the horizon, while their shadows seem a big biscuit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be like the hippo: after having hippocopulated for a long time, he doesn't answer her "do yoou love me?", because it's obvious that you could do it with a hippo only for love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be like the hippo: always kind at the bar, joining queues for documents, or on a train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be like the polite hippo: he withdrows when he has to go to the lavatory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be like the hippo: when he tramples on hippo's shit, pretends indifference and says "qu'est-ce que c'est ça?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be like the hippo: when he feels the end arriving, says good-bye to his flock and runs towards the graveyard of dying hippoes' valley, where you can eat, drink and fuck without restraint or shame for the last time, and in the end of the party only one hippo's going to die, because the others where healthy infiltrated hippoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be like the hippo: he dies with the smile on his face and immediately the great Potamka, the sinewy winged god threw him into his arms and brought him to heave,n where clouds and wonderful flowers and clear water are, and the hippo, disappointed, said "may I have a good filthy marsh?" an Potamka, angry, threw him to the ground and the hippo felt, creating the Holy Crater of the lake Ngoro-Ngoro and the hippo pierced the wrinkly skin of earth and cast headlong to Hell, where he lives now, swimming happily in the shit with his friends and when he moves he causes earthquakes, and when he swims he provokes geysers and shows to everyone his sheer truth: heaven is wherever you can feel in paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stefano Benni&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(My favourite writer)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PS:&lt;/strong&gt; I'm sorry for my long absence in the blogosphere, but studying's important!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10106303-110952973660889242?l=the-daysleeper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/110952973660889242/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10106303&amp;postID=110952973660889242' title='29 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/110952973660889242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/110952973660889242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/2005/02/lippopotamo-felice-happy-hippo.html' title='L&apos;ippopotamo felice - The happy hippo'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><thr:total>29</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303.post-110607404236363769</id><published>2005-01-18T20:25:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-03-06T16:11:34.876+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Incubo - Nightmare</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.illusionsgallery.com/nightmare-L.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Genere:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sogno notturno&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ambientazione:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luogo surreale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dormo su un letto.&lt;br /&gt;Uno gnomo orribile, con una barba lunga e gialla, e un volto rugoso e cadente, sta seduto sul mio ventre e sghignazza con cattiveria.&lt;br /&gt;La mia paura lo fa ridere sempre di più.&lt;br /&gt;Sono paralizzata, capisco che sto sognando, ma non riesco a muovermi, nè a svegliarmi.&lt;br /&gt;Provo a reagire, ma non ci riesco.&lt;br /&gt;Mi sveglio urlando, sudata e in lacrime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Retrospettiva:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non mi capitava da anni questo incubo.&lt;br /&gt;Non è la prima volta che lo faccio... in passato è stato ricorrente e assillante.&lt;br /&gt;Poco dopo la morte di mio padre lo sognavo spesso, ma nel giro di un paio d'anni ho smesso.&lt;br /&gt;La cosa più assurda è che circa 4 anni fà (non lo sognavo da parecchio tempo), durante una lezione di storia dell'arte, mi ritrovo a guardare il mio incubo.&lt;br /&gt;Un vero shock.&lt;br /&gt;E' un quadro di Henry Fuessli, un pittore romantico.&lt;br /&gt;E dato che il mio incubo è tornato a perseguitarmi, gli dedico un post e addirittura un'immagine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;English version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Genre:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night-dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Setting:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A surrealistic place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sleeping on a bed.&lt;br /&gt;A horrible gnome, with long yellow beard, and a wrinkled and falling face is sitting on my belly, snearing with neastyness.&lt;br /&gt;My pain makes him laughing more and more.&lt;br /&gt;I'm paralized, understandind that I'm dreaming, but unable to move or to wake up.&lt;br /&gt;I try to react, but I can't.&lt;br /&gt;I wake up screaming, sweat and crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Background:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't come back since ages, this nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;This isn't the first time I dream it... in the past it has been recurring and painful.&lt;br /&gt;Just after the death of my father I frequently dreamt it, but in a couple of years it stopped.&lt;br /&gt;The absurd side of all this, is that about 4 years ago (I haven't dreamt it for long time), during an art lesson, I'm watching my nightmare again.&lt;br /&gt;It's a Henry Fuessli picture, a romantic painter.&lt;br /&gt;And since my nightmare has come back to persecute me, I dedicate it a post and even a picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10106303-110607404236363769?l=the-daysleeper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/110607404236363769/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10106303&amp;postID=110607404236363769' title='22 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/110607404236363769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/110607404236363769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/2005/01/incubo-nightmare.html' title='Incubo - Nightmare'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303.post-110564047305741395</id><published>2005-01-13T20:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-03-06T16:09:29.916+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Un mare di dolci - Loads of sweets</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.minatoya.com/Image/higasi/1h.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Genere:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sogno notturno&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ambientazione:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luogo reale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Io e la mia amica Nadia siamo ospiti in una casa che nella vita reale non conosciamo.&lt;br /&gt;Ci siamo appena svegliate e andiamo in cucina per fare colazione.&lt;br /&gt;La tavola è imbandita delle migliori leccornie esistenti: torte, biscotti con la crema, con la cioccolata, glassati, nutella, barrette di cioccolata, caramelle...&lt;br /&gt;Felici come due bambine che scartano i regali di Natale, cominciamo a scegliere ciò che più ci fa gola e ci abbuffiamo alla grande.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Retrospettiva:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L'interpretazione di questo sogno non è difficile.&lt;br /&gt;La questione è che a casa mia - con due fratelli che divorano qualunque cosa alla velocità della luce - non è facile svegliarsi al mattino e trovare in giro per casa qualcosa di commestibile, soprattutto se loro si sono svegliati prima di me.&lt;br /&gt;La mia voglia di poter scegliere quello che mangio a colazione è così grande, che sogno un mondo di dolci tutto per me!&lt;br /&gt;Triste, vero? ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;English version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Genre:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night-dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Setting:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A true place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Nadia and me are guests in a house that in real life we don't know.&lt;br /&gt;We have just woke up, so we go to the kitchen to have our breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;The table is sumptuously set with the best existing titbits: cakes, cream and chocolate biscuits, frosted biscuits, nut cream, chocolate bars, candies...&lt;br /&gt;Happy like two children unwrapping their Christmas gifts, we start choosing what we like and have our rich breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Background:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interpretation of this dream isn't so difficult.&lt;br /&gt;The matter is that in my house - with two brothers that devour anything they can in a blink - it's not so easy waking up in the morning and finding around something to eat, especially if they woke up before me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so like to choose what I'd like to eat at breakfast, that I'm dreaming a world of sweets all for me!&lt;br /&gt;Sad, don't you think? ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10106303-110564047305741395?l=the-daysleeper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/110564047305741395/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10106303&amp;postID=110564047305741395' title='14 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/110564047305741395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/110564047305741395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/2005/01/un-mare-di-dolci-loads-of-sweets.html' title='Un mare di dolci - Loads of sweets'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303.post-110555189634266320</id><published>2005-01-12T21:50:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-03-06T16:07:49.213+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Il futuro di mio figlio - The future of my son</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Genere:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sogno notturno&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ambientazione:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luogo reale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sono adulta.&lt;br /&gt;Il mio ragazzo ora è mio marito.&lt;br /&gt;Ci siamo sposati da poco e, senza un motivo particolare, cominciamo a parlare del futuro di un nostro eventuale figlio:&lt;br /&gt;"Se mettiamo da parte qualcosina ogni mese, tra 18 anni avremo raccolto una cifra tale da poterlo iscrivere in una scuola che possa garantirgli un futuro".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Retrospettiva:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Questo sogno rispecchia le mie preoccupazioni, ma allo stesso tempo anche i miei desideri, senza che essi siano necessariamente legati ai contenuti contingenti del sogno.&lt;br /&gt;Ho tanta voglia di costruirmi un futuro stabile, sereno, mio.&lt;br /&gt;Purtroppo però ci sono dei motivi che mi impediscono di guardare avanti e di vederlo come lo desidero davvero, il mio futuro.&lt;br /&gt;Sto per laurearmi in giornalismo, ma il mio Ateneo (con l'ausilio di riforme universitarie varie) ha deciso che per chi vuole diventare giornalista, non c'è speranza a Palermo.&lt;br /&gt;Dunque dovrò fare - anch'io come tanti altri - il "runaway brain", il cervello in fuga...&lt;br /&gt;...non sono io a volerlo.&lt;br /&gt;Ecco da dove nascono le mie preoccupazioni: ho paura che un giorno, mio figlio possa avere gli stessi problemi a cui vado incontro io per adesso.&lt;br /&gt;E - anche se è triste ammetterlo - con tanti soldi a disposizione non hai bisogno di preoccuparti di questo genere di impedimenti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;English version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Genre:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night-dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Setting:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A real place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm adult.&lt;br /&gt;My boyfriend is my husband, now.&lt;br /&gt;We've just got married and, without reason, we start talking about the future of an eventual son:&lt;br /&gt;"If we put some money aside monthly, in 18 years we'll get a sufficient amount to register him to a very good school, that allows him a safe future".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Background:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This dream mirrors my troubles, but at the same time also my whishes, not necessary linked to the contents of the dream.&lt;br /&gt;I really feel like building a stable future, quiet, mine.&lt;br /&gt;Unfotrunately, there are some reasons that prevent me from looking straight ahead and seiing it how I really wish it.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to graduate in Journalism, but my university of my town (thanks to several university reforms, adopted by Italian government) has decided that who wants to be a journalist has no chance here in Palermo.&lt;br /&gt;So I'm going to be - me like sevaral others - a "runaway brain" (towards other cities or countries)...&lt;br /&gt;...that's not a choice of mine.&lt;br /&gt;That's the source of my troubles: I'm frightened that one day, my son might have the same problems I have now.&lt;br /&gt;And - even if I'm sad when I say it - if you've got money you won't need to worry about this kind of obstacles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10106303-110555189634266320?l=the-daysleeper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/110555189634266320/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10106303&amp;postID=110555189634266320' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/110555189634266320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/110555189634266320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/2005/01/il-futuro-di-mio-figlio-future-of-my.html' title='Il futuro di mio figlio - The future of my son'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10106303.post-110552666572286178</id><published>2005-01-12T21:41:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-03-06T16:21:30.580+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to The Daysleeper (il blog Cantasogni)</title><content type='html'>Finalmente anch'io nella blogosfera (almeno in quella non fotografica).&lt;br /&gt;Ho voglia di raccontare i miei sogni, quindi vi spiego subito come funzionano.&lt;br /&gt;Come tutti faccio tanti sogni, sia quando dormo, che quando sono sveglia.&lt;br /&gt;Ho deciso di pubblicarli sul web così, senza un motivo particolare...&lt;br /&gt;...forse semplicemente per condividerli.&lt;br /&gt;Per questo motivo mi sembra un'idea carina pubblicare anche quelli di chiunque abbia voglia di vederli online.&lt;br /&gt;Basta inviarmi un'e-mail e li posto subito, prometto!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maria&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;English version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally in the blogosphere me too (not in the photographic one, at least). &lt;br /&gt;I feel like telling my dreams, so I'm going to explain you how do they work. &lt;br /&gt;As everyone do, I dream so much, either when I'm asleep, or when I' m awake.&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to publish them on the web, without specific reasons...&lt;br /&gt;...perhaps simply to share them with someone.&lt;br /&gt;That's why I thought that publishing dreams of whoever feels like to see them online, would be a nice idea. You need only to send me an e-mail and I will post them immediately, I promise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maria &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10106303-110552666572286178?l=the-daysleeper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/feeds/110552666572286178/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10106303&amp;postID=110552666572286178' title='5 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/110552666572286178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10106303/posts/default/110552666572286178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-daysleeper.blogspot.com/2005/01/welcome-to-daysleeper-il-blog.html' title='Welcome to The Daysleeper (il blog Cantasogni)'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00559002654802325919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://www.radiotime.it/forum/Wid-forum.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
