The Smiling Harlot

Her smile hit me straight in the heart. And it hurt.

I would never have imagined her so happy. She was really happy, in that picture.

I felt envy and yet her smile gave me back serenity. She was cooking, in that picture. And she was smiling.

- Little things can give great happiness. But you never listened to me.

A sharp pain and then my heart began to beat again as before.

- But was it a real smile of happiness? Smiles in pictures are never true, after all. A smile like that can be deceiving. How can a negative, selfish and unhappy woman like her be happy?
Her smile meant distance:

La imagine per solo fama generata è sempre più ampia, quale che essa sia, che non è la cosa imaginata ner vero stato***

Her inherent nature was the nature of a bitch, ready to sell herself to whomever would pay the most. Who lives deeply inside such a nature gains a deep throat and never finds rest.

I'm a humanist. I study humanity. I'm running behind humanity following men like Poggio Bracciolini who ran for monasteries in search of books forgotten to mankind. I discover natures that bind the world to false appearances under the agency of impenetrable demons who only long for hiding.

That smile was not the nature of the woman I had loved. It was the one of a prostitute, who, by virtue of her own demon, lost in her fictitious happiness pretended to be happy.

***The image begotten by fame alone is never more ample, whatsoever it may be, than the imagined thing in its true state

Princas Vilnuje

Fabrizio Ulivieri

Comments

Poetry dwells near the divine light's breath

The comparison between poetry and divine light that we proposed HERE finds its perfect explanation in Saint Paul, Letters to the Romans I,19: τὸ γνωστὸν τοῦ θεοῦ φανερόν ἐστιν ἐν αὐτοῖς, ὁ ⸂θεὸς γὰρ αὐτοῖς ἐφανέρωσεν , what can be known of God was manifested to them (in men), indeed God manifested to them. Poetry unveils in the human being the need to be human, i.e.the need for Beauty, for feeling the Beauty in itself and with itself, and this feeling is supported by the divine light. As we are influenced by the idea of Saint Augustine of saeculum , we maintain that poetry belongs to the saeculum and therefore stops on the threshold of the divine light [ I] without crossing that threshold, but it senses the light beyond that threshold. We are taken to that threshold by the human feeling of Beauty within us that leads us up to there: up to that door that it is not possible to cross in our being human, but nevertheless, the very dwelling on that threshold is illuminated by the ve...

Similarities between Lithuanian, Sanskrit and Ancient Greek: the sigmatic future

by Fabrizio Ulivieri Lithuanian is the most archaic among all the Indo-European languages spoken today, and as a result it is very useful, indeed, indispensable in the study of Indo-European linguistics. The most important fact is that Lithuanian is not only very archaic, but still very much alive, i. e., it is spoken by about three and a half million people. It has a rich tradition in folklore, in literature, and it is used very successfully in all walks of modern life, including the most advanced scientific research. Forced by our interest for this piece of living archaism, we go deeper in our linguistic survey. One of the most noticeable similarities is the future (- sigmatic future -). Lithuanian has preserved a future tense from prehistoric times: it has one single form, e.g. kalbė-siu 'I will speak', etc. kalbė-si kalbė-s kalbė-sime kalbė-site kalbė-s This form kalbėsiu is made from the stem kalbė-(ti) 'to speak', plus the ancient stem-end...

My world before and after the so-called Pandemic

Prior to the so-called pandemic, the world was different. I was different. One of my greatest moments of pleasure was visiting unknown cities, lost in the unknown, following an unknown flux of life surrounded by unknown streets and people. I felt invisible. No one knew me, and I knew no one. That gave me a strong sense of pleasure. The pleasure of doing things you usually avoid in places where everyday life, routine, and the fear of showing yourself in a way people are not accustomed to expecting from you. I am not sure what I was looking for in doing this. I remember I felt pushed to search for the essence of that world, as I could physically taste that essence. I was looking for an aura of mystery which could rescue me from my nothingness (I called it nothingness, but now I should call it stupidity—because now I realize what an idiot I was). I hoped for goodness from the world, I hoped for a magic of life, I hoped for an encounter which would be my Saviour, the Savi...

Fabrizio Ulivieri - Content Creator

Search This Blog