Entre Roma et Paris

I was looking at my two cats yesterday. Looking at their different ways of being. I daresay they have a personality. The grey one, the girl, is shy, jealous, and cuddly and sensitive. The red one, the boy, is friendly, talkative (yes "talkative", don't forget he's italian...), messy and even more jealous than the girl. So, yesterday I was thinking that even animals are jealous, how come? I mean, where this feeling comes from? Love, anger, sadness, joy, that's rather easier to understand but jealousy? It's a strange thing. You know if one is jealous of his/her lover, that's different. But jealousy in everyday relationships.... Why we are all in many ways envious of each other? It's easier to define it than to understand it, at least for me.
And what determines our personalities? What makes someone being more open minded than someone else, or softly talking, or kind, or nervous.... Are we sure that this is just personality, isn't that soul? I 'd rather it's soul. But this case even animals have one. And there again I agree. I think animals have a soul. Thing is: where our soul goes after we die? Do you believe in afterlife? I do. Strongly. And it's not because I refuse to believe that I will cease existing. It's because I believe in soul. If soul is not material when we are alive, why should it disappear when we die? It's more likely that it will live its own life outside us. Somewhere? Probably not. I think we need to imagine a place or a different entity where souls live, 'cause we are not able to think abstract things. And yet, thought is not material. We are contradictory. And yet we want to believe in science.

Probably you are now thinking that I'm getting warped. I probably am. And you are probably wondering why I'm writing in english. That's because I'm thinking for myself, and in many ways I'm not targeting to some specific ones. At sometimes we write just for ourselves. This is one of those times.

 

Ses études. Bac+4. Sa taille. Mince. Ses cheveux. Pratiques. Ses habits. Sobres. Ses chaussures. Confortables. Sa maison. Rangée. Son frigo. Plein. Sa carrière. Eclatante. Sa dévise. La riguer. Ses enfants. Responsables. Sa vie. Organisée. Sa façon de parler. Mesurée. Son allure. Décidée. Ses copines. Emancipées. Ses discours. Rationnels.
Mais alors qu'est ce que je fais ici sur l'herbe, avec cette femme un peu ronde, un peu (beaucoup) vulgaire, talons aiguilles, coiffure voyante, déodorant Leaderprice, à laquelle j'ai donné déjà 40 euros pour ses services, et qui m'écoute calme depuis un quart d'heure, sans trouver mes mots stupides, ou ma cravate mal choisie?

Notre Dame de Lorrette - Paris - early afternoon, a long time ago....

Mid-October. A tea-room in the old Paris. Early 20s decorated. Desert. Silent. Two ladies come in. About 25 one, around 30 the other. Classy dressed, jewels, manners. They sit down at a round table in a corner, next to the window. One next to the other. "Un té et un café au lait, s'il vous plait. " - Quick, please - "Nous sommes pressées - très pressées." They start talking. Quietly. Softly. A light gesture now and then underlines their words. Friendly. The front door open. A man enters the room. Tall, handsome, around 35 perhaps a bit more. He goes choosing candies beside the cash-desk. The ladies keep talking. Quietly. A glance in the mirror. She catches his eyes. The other looks at her friend - "hands off, he's mine". They keep talking. Carelessly. They both focus on the man. Their gestures. Nervous. She stands up. A lip gloss in her hands. Goes to the cashier "les toilettes, s'il vous plait?". The gloss slips away. Accidentally on purpose. Falls down. He bends his knees. She leans forward. Both to get the gloss, their hands lightly touch. She smiles. Victory. "Pardon." She gives a long look at him. Into his eyes. "You're mine". Suddenly the front door open again. A young man enters. Tall, handsome, slim, fit. He goes straight to the cash-desk. "ça y est?" He passes his arm around his waist.

C'est la vie...

Hier l'après midi je suis allée au cinéma. Avec mon mari, attirés par certains noms (notamment Dustin Hoffmann, comme quoi s'ils sont bien payés même les meilleures acceptent de faire n'importe quoi...) qui figuraient sur l'affiche, on a décidé de regarder "Adieu Cuba".
Quel gachi de pellicule! S'il n'y avaient toutes ces musiques latino années '50 il ne serait ennuyeux qu'une fois. Andy Garcia a raté l'histoire qui veut être emouvante, mais ne l'est pas, a raté aussi le "tableau historique" aussi bien que le portrait de famille, la récitation, bref une ennui mortelle qui vous garde en hôtage pour plus de deux heures.... yaaaawn...

• Fin du blog | 02-02-2007
• Je m'excuse | 01-02-2007
• Vizi e stravizi | 31-01-2007
• Pas que des notes.... | 30-01-2007
• Timewasters | 29-01-2007
• ? | 26-01-2007
• Carrefour | 25-01-2007
• débat politique | 24-01-2007
• Random thoughts | 24-01-2007
• 2 choses que je voudrais | 23-01-2007
• 5 choses que vous n'auriez jamais dû savoir sur moi! | 22-01-2007
• Attente............ | 22-01-2007
• Ciao! | 19-01-2007
• poire à poire! | 18-01-2007
• Fine del silenzio stampa! | 17-01-2007