<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Mon, 07 Oct 2024 05:15:55 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>Riflessioni</category><category>Valori</category><category>Politica</category><category>Società</category><category>Informazione</category><category>Comunicazioni</category><category>Svago</category><category>Chiacchierando</category><category>Aforismi</category><category>Giustizia</category><category>Umorismo</category><category>Personale</category><category>Musica</category><category>Diritti Umani</category><category>Lunedì con Travaglio</category><category>Cultura</category><category>Iniziative</category><category>Eventi</category><category>04/09</category><category>Salute</category><category>Ambiente</category><category>Economia</category><category>Poesia</category><category>Trentino</category><category>Scienza</category><category>Psicologia</category><category>Immagini</category><category>Festività</category><category>Letteratura</category><category>Life Coaching</category><category>Storia</category><category>Sport</category><category>Natura</category><category>Pubblicità</category><category>Images</category><category>Questione di Genere</category><category>Ricette</category><category>Teatro</category><title>Il Re è nudo (o veste Prada?)</title><description>&quot;Se un Uomo non e&#39; disposto a correre dei rischi per le proprie idee, o le sue idee non valgono nulla, o non vale niente lui&quot;.               - Ezra Pound</description><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>433</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-3499038163101298461</guid><pubDate>Fri, 04 Sep 2020 20:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2020-09-04T22:44:00.497+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">04/09</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personale</category><title>UN PENSIERO</title><atom:summary type="text">Non ho smesso di pensarti,
vorrei tanto dirtelo.

Vorrei scriverti che mi piacerebbe tornare,
che mi manchi
e che ti penso.

Ma non ti cerco.
Non ti scrivo neppure ciao.

Non so come stai.
E mi manca saperlo.

Hai progetti?
Hai sorriso oggi?
Cos’hai sognato?
Esci?
Dove vai?
Hai dei sogni?
Hai mangiato?

Mi piacerebbe riuscire a cercarti.
Ma non ne ho la forza.
E neanche tu ne hai.
Ed allora </atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2020/09/un-pensiero.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZN1G6yFKcPJ0L0wwwuAJ_P3xIDIR1XbgfnfhFw8s-bqeZMPiDV3-RbmPug4S1VW6vbldwnSO2sG7TKeH5d73etKLkjt_bCRyVeWLvZr_0gAlMxNCHwDgeh1P-ijpMgucUIhfhq5W1GM/s72-c/charles-bukowski-librofilia.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-927690936067386266</guid><pubDate>Sun, 26 Apr 2020 21:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2020-04-26T23:59:00.205+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Aforismi</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personale</category><title>IL MODO MIGLIORE</title><atom:summary type="text">


Il modo migliore&amp;nbsp;
per non avere paura della morte
è fare una vita del cazzo.&amp;nbsp;

Così non hai niente da rimpiangere.&amp;nbsp;

F. Vargas. &quot;L&#39;uomo dei cerchi azzurri&quot;.</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2020/04/il-modo-migliore.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS5iGtd6vvN5LHHm3PulBhGwG9FznTerMaf7OMq3cKKQ06Bbx5Av6XRj9JTazvbcxnns3z5m3tl0TBMH6sIGipS3wSLCPM41NM3g5lXMK_GxkQYa_NliF2Vn0IAsw2TCk_vitSoonm-Uk/s72-c/Vargas.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-646535585328194858</guid><pubDate>Wed, 04 Sep 2019 20:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2019-09-04T22:43:10.420+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">04/09</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personale</category><title>COSE CHE NON CAMBIANO</title><atom:summary type="text">Non ho smesso di pensarti,
vorrei tanto dirtelo.

Vorrei scriverti che mi piacerebbe tornare,
che mi manchi
e che ti penso.

Ma non ti cerco.
Non ti scrivo neppure ciao.

Non so come stai.
E mi manca saperlo.

Hai progetti?
Hai sorriso oggi?
Cos’hai sognato?
Esci?
Dove vai?
Hai dei sogni?
Hai mangiato?

Mi piacerebbe riuscire a cercarti.
Ma non ne ho la forza.
E neanche tu ne hai.
Ed allora </atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2019/09/cose-che-non-cambiano.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZN1G6yFKcPJ0L0wwwuAJ_P3xIDIR1XbgfnfhFw8s-bqeZMPiDV3-RbmPug4S1VW6vbldwnSO2sG7TKeH5d73etKLkjt_bCRyVeWLvZr_0gAlMxNCHwDgeh1P-ijpMgucUIhfhq5W1GM/s72-c/charles-bukowski-librofilia.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-4057881888344837579</guid><pubDate>Fri, 26 Apr 2019 21:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2019-04-26T23:59:00.470+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Aforismi</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personale</category><title>NON E&#39; NULLA</title><atom:summary type="text">


Morire non è nulla. Tremendo è non vivere.&amp;nbsp;
V. Hugo, &quot;I Miserabili&quot; - Vol 4, p.1401</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2019/04/non-e-nulla.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoxDH985WrgLOdP3rJvWPs6IVaEaT4qWGdQOgvvzI_9GeXrLsS9ikJDKGN3AhNlZl0UovOfNa1xXzMz7R5Eb_VBzITbsAGHXriU0XzczjqISHFnH7xBcZpC1vGB8eGJovbP4OP1RgC2gY/s72-c/Victor-Hugo-750x430.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-9201627549225336980</guid><pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2019 07:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2019-01-01T08:00:02.125+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Aforismi</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personale</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Riflessioni</category><title>PENSIERO ONIRICO</title><atom:summary type="text">


Sognate in grande, non c&#39;è altro da fare. Per quanto ne sappiamo,&amp;nbsp;
ci è concessa una sola occasione,&amp;nbsp;
quindi abbandonate le vostre paure&amp;nbsp;
e&amp;nbsp;
vivete i vostri sogni.&amp;nbsp;





Non si lascia un sogno che rischia di avverarsi.
Ci si prova. Si va.
Ci è concessa una sola occasione.
Va còlta, letteralmente, al volo.

Non sono sempre le nostre paure ad impedirci di agire.
Ci sono </atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2019/01/pensiero-onirico.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2IaxfOuIwfWLwVENqXPXWRTJ86DLwF6xz2e9P1R-GlGqN34x1AtmMUFL0Xf5EcZVJJuN6C0KJ7PTgb0-mBt4pP5UlpD-f9kkqlyiDXFGs3n4hbDtRJbpotcpukkaEs2MewjgeioNcEY/s72-c/Marylin.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-7224431295659490463</guid><pubDate>Thu, 20 Dec 2018 17:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2018-12-20T18:30:05.491+01:00</atom:updated><title>LA FINE DEL SOLE</title><atom:summary type="text">



20 dicembre 2013.&amp;nbsp;
This was the end.

Ma il sole sorgerà ancora per diverse decine di anni. 

Dopo la fine del sole</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2018/12/la-fine-del-sole.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/lxGlydEMqkU/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-125550530979644360</guid><pubDate>Wed, 12 Dec 2018 22:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2018-12-12T23:48:02.440+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personale</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Riflessioni</category><title>INSPIRATION </title><atom:summary type="text">














28 anni. Ventotto anni di lavoro, impegno, entusiasmi piccoli e grandi successi e insuccessi.
Scelte obbligate, molte, altre spontanee, altre poco importanti, ma ogni bivio porta verso qualcosa e allontana da qualcos&#39;altro.
Qualche scelta fortunata, qualcuna azzeccata, una particolarmente infelice.

31 luglio 2007. Subito riconosciuta, mai affrontata, maledetti sensi di colpa, mai </atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2018/12/inspiration.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/5bi_3D-44S4/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-503240239899881772</guid><pubDate>Mon, 12 Nov 2018 13:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2018-11-12T14:30:08.322+01:00</atom:updated><title>DESIDERI REALIZZATI</title><atom:summary type="text">


</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2018/11/desideri-realizzati.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmlBAY7I8bQ_jRfbfn_vDRtP9bmZ7ln4sEpu4PQ17tOx6T6nRPC9JcokCADrX5U8MPfxgxFqaatjxR6rXw5AEfxeTUYg15_xHqZyNfJ9bMYJcRMsMELHyaEXLpXNNEpvN0PpOOSVZJAi0/s72-c/20171114-033-20171114_122317.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-3439064194359532131</guid><pubDate>Tue, 04 Sep 2018 10:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2018-09-04T12:30:00.299+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">04/09</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personale</category><title>PENSIERI CHE RIMANGONO</title><atom:summary type="text">Non ho smesso di pensarti,
vorrei tanto dirtelo.

Vorrei scriverti che mi piacerebbe tornare,
che mi manchi
e che ti penso.

Ma non ti cerco.
Non ti scrivo neppure ciao.

Non so come stai.
E mi manca saperlo.

Hai progetti?
Hai sorriso oggi?
Cos’hai sognato?
Esci?
Dove vai?
Hai dei sogni?
Hai mangiato?

Mi piacerebbe riuscire a cercarti.
Ma non ne ho la forza.
E neanche tu ne hai.
Ed allora </atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2018/09/pensieri-che-rimangono.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZN1G6yFKcPJ0L0wwwuAJ_P3xIDIR1XbgfnfhFw8s-bqeZMPiDV3-RbmPug4S1VW6vbldwnSO2sG7TKeH5d73etKLkjt_bCRyVeWLvZr_0gAlMxNCHwDgeh1P-ijpMgucUIhfhq5W1GM/s72-c/charles-bukowski-librofilia.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-7328984672655766624</guid><pubDate>Sat, 23 Jun 2018 19:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2018-06-23T21:50:12.288+02:00</atom:updated><title>INCONSISTENZA</title><atom:summary type="text">



Finzione e realtà
</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2018/06/inconsistenza.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOlkAoRFM8V5Irhbobj8VfWepsst3ocbggXkn-mgOUhXfTIgPEpHp8c4ZsJpCwDakBzpVmvEHebh6eUGpslHrQk1p87JQCmIrmpRDDuGlO0ZhpHQODOsJBVqGuLbHKNazheEdkZOlSYc8/s72-c/20180521_patch-Rainbow.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-6634784212140858273</guid><pubDate>Fri, 01 Jun 2018 16:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2018-06-04T22:24:21.058+02:00</atom:updated><title>YES, I DID IT. I did it. </title><atom:summary type="text">


Yes. I did it.&amp;nbsp;



Quando dopo ventisei, VENTISEI interi anni, realizzi un sogno mai veramente accantonato. 
Quando è un po&#39; tardi, ma finalmente tutto ciò che hai fatto e scelto e vissuto in precedenza trova una sua collocazione, e puoi fare l&#39;unica cosa che avresti voluto veramente, quell&#39;unica cosa cui avevi finto di non pensare più.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;



Quando non è tutt&#39;oro quel che </atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2018/06/yes-i-did-it-i-did-it.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZICxTyfp-XOtVKblag3j4HfsXaPb4KVX2_c2WcHfGNgibDiqqdvFG_RRBRhdDVafIe4pMk3Stv_iuxxH1LR3UCDfhDMr5xSdByxS-HAwD92z1D3bP6C5_iVuQlZ7UlSz4-IFDaAIipE4/s72-c/yesican.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-6284939886837052539</guid><pubDate>Thu, 26 Apr 2018 21:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2018-04-26T23:59:05.178+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Aforismi</category><title>IL TEMPO E&#39; LA DIMENSIONE PIU&#39; CRUDELE</title><atom:summary type="text">



&quot;Il tramonto del Tempo&quot;

GiovannOlio
</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2018/04/il-tempo-e-la-dimensione-piu-crudele.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKEIGT01-ONwJY1NpSCikMWIt1eI1lGxIylMB8vkzCaXJ-Qgm2o2MTqrQOZDKTSQ4zFFJD_Yj2HCp6MecLTpKxSl5OfiAgic4kQkbn1RYZ9Muyrb7vgGKchiRzd2N62pramhi4FFly8Bk/s72-c/TempusFugitRitaglio.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-1023074996474842931</guid><pubDate>Sat, 03 Mar 2018 22:02:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2018-03-03T23:02:05.326+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personale</category><title>MEMORIE di una Rèfola. </title><atom:summary type="text">
Il dialetto di questa città, [...], ha una parola precisa per indicare un colpo di vento.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; 

La parola è simile a un’altra della lingua madre: ma è femminile, perciò di significato profondamente diverso. 

E la parola non descrive il colpo di vento in genere, ma un colpo di vento. 
Uno in particolare.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;

Rèfola.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; 
Non
 refolo, che è una bava di aria </atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2018/03/memorie-di-una-refola.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-8580982993184172066</guid><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 2018 05:54:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2018-01-01T06:54:04.459+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Aforismi</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Politica</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Riflessioni</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Società</category><title>SATELLITI ED ESTREMITA&#39;</title><atom:summary type="text">Quando il saggio indica il Capitalismo, 
lo stolto guarda l&#39;immigrato.
(cit.)










</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2018/01/satelliti-ed-estremita.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG2cEUjqiFNw8mgfkceFvqLIldQ4cWTeCnuqd3PzKHCPw3UxybT6PW0ao66VCafBBy5CsJr0_9cNswpM4_aZHLgHX8bfY1Q_xcWlmd9SXZpEpyxhWwzW1xMj0ASAzIUIZYd1JnZvuO5A4/s72-c/cAPITALISMO2.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-8985853648341937196</guid><pubDate>Mon, 25 Dec 2017 15:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-12-25T16:30:04.753+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Festività</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Musica</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Umorismo</category><title>LA LIETA NOVELLA</title><atom:summary type="text">








Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse
When you&#39;re chewing on life&#39;s gristle&amp;nbsp;

Don&#39;t grumble, give a whistle

And this&#39;ll help things turn out for the best



And always look on the bright side of life
Always look on the light side of life

If life seems jolly rotten
There&#39;s something you&#39;ve forgotten
And that&#39;s to laugh </atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2017/12/la-lieta-novella.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/ny0G0mkN62M/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-2317398249878767924</guid><pubDate>Wed, 20 Dec 2017 16:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2018-05-06T17:12:01.866+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Musica</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Umorismo</category><title>THE SHOW MUST GO ON</title><atom:summary type="text">

&amp;nbsp; 
&quot;The Show Must Go On&quot;



Empty spaces - what are we living for
Abandoned places - I guess we know the score
On and on, does anybody know what we are looking for...

Another hero, another mindless crime
Behind the curtain, in the pantomime
Hold the line, does anybody want to take it anymore

The show must go on, The show must go on


Inside my heart is breaking
My make-up may be flaking
</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2017/12/the-show-must-go-on.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/t99KH0TR-J4/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-6459012448907106749</guid><pubDate>Wed, 13 Dec 2017 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-12-13T22:00:28.695+01:00</atom:updated><title>ETICA UMANA</title><atom:summary type="text">







&quot;La vita retta è quella ispirata dall&#39;amore e guidata dalla conoscenza&quot;. 

Bertrand Russel. 

















&quot;Le leggi morali non ce le ha date Dio, ma non per questo sono meno importanti. Questa dovrebbe essere l&#39;etica dominante, senza aspettarsi una ricompensa nell&#39;aldilà. Senza leggi etiche ci sarebbe il branco e non la società.
E andrebbero insegnati valori comuni a credenti e non, </atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2017/12/etica-umana.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxD784ObU14ekVBkfMzj-BWKy22OA98QPz2rD5nOaPPwaRbfBfDE7vmUeOmvHFUykJJiTNxK3Fh4l4G7KScUxopf_hcldp6uRzCBiGa1aZl9Sq933BTncKFqfCTuKtpR25czBMejmt0Sw/s72-c/B.+Russell+%25285%2529.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-5906516891618253118</guid><pubDate>Thu, 30 Nov 2017 05:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-11-30T06:59:02.840+01:00</atom:updated><title>COLONNE SONORE </title><atom:summary type="text">









Accendi la radio, una fredda mattina di fine novembre, la morte nel cuore, letteralmente. 

Addosso appiccicata una sensazione di aria nuova, che senti potenzialmente tossica, ma che in quel momento è l&#39;unica che hai voglia di respirare. 

Ascolti un motivo accattivante, che leghi alla situazione.&amp;nbsp;

Sopravvivi.&amp;nbsp; 

Il tempo passa, alternativamente respiri e soffochi. E soffochi</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2017/11/colonne-sonore.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/0CGVgAYJyjk/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-7283352390267971965</guid><pubDate>Mon, 27 Nov 2017 21:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-11-27T22:27:05.161+01:00</atom:updated><title>TEMPISMO</title><atom:summary type="text">




&quot;Arriviamo delusi a ogni età della vita,&amp;nbsp;

perché potremmo fare&amp;nbsp;

(anzi ci viene offerto)&amp;nbsp;

ciò che ci sarebbe piaciuto&amp;nbsp;

in una età precedente.&amp;nbsp;



Oggi rifiutiamo&amp;nbsp;

ciò che ieri ci avrebbe lusingato.&amp;nbsp;

Tutto, insomma, arriva tardi.



Non parliamo poi della morte,&amp;nbsp;

che arriva quando non ci interessa più.&quot;&amp;nbsp;



Ennio Flaiano, Diario degli errori.</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2017/11/tempismo.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHSy6ufYlTw6A5zL-FpvBvD05ZmhBoWlUoDTA29aAD_h2PLi1BBUA5k8O5MjF4wixfujaTjbeL6L6MrEmuOxBLQzzDdYwzlasHLwJd5sn5QkY59FKT4h1ENlKsbDCd0SshSKv0G9P58oY/s72-c/Flaiano.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-2579890455699198773</guid><pubDate>Sun, 12 Nov 2017 22:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-11-12T23:59:07.478+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Musica</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personale</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Riflessioni</category><title>NON BISOGNEREBBE</title><atom:summary type="text">


Non bisognerebbe mai ritornare: 

perchè calcare i tuoi vecchi passi, 

calciare gli stessi sassi, 

su strade che ti han visto già a occhi bassi? 

Non troverai quell&#39; ombra che eri tu 






e non avrai quell&#39; ora in più 

che hai dissipato e che ora cerchi; 

si scioglierà impossibile il pensiero 

a rimestare il falso e il vero 

in improbabili universi. 


Eppure come un cane che alza il </atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2017/11/non-bisognerebbe.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/Msl3NV-QNlM/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-526070675298463046</guid><pubDate>Thu, 02 Nov 2017 11:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-11-02T21:44:55.407+01:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Aforismi</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Riflessioni</category><title>COSE PERDUTE PER SEMPRE</title><atom:summary type="text">






Chi ha provato il volo
camminerà guardando il cielo&amp;nbsp;
perché là è stato, 
e là vuole tornare.&amp;nbsp;













Un piccolo gatto&amp;nbsp;

trasforma il ritorno in una casa vuota&amp;nbsp;

nel ritorno a casa.

(Pam Brown)











Perdere la propria casa significa perdere la propria identità.

Perdere i punti di riferimento che ci fanno sentire protetti, che ci fanno 
sentire noi.

Che ci </atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2017/11/cose-perdute-per-sempre.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilrhQpkW_S3cmZ_1e05v3gEAut0i9bSUz9rDdWOmssruSSOdLx-TEXAPG21yqoq018wdz_MDDbh_-koNwsoEjfyldnt-_h1CVgkQN54yKDGHeer0YBbrVhVgHbj_20DQ539tqwb5v56xk/s72-c/DSCN3105.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-964478030714106118</guid><pubDate>Wed, 01 Nov 2017 19:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2018-04-20T20:43:11.118+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Aforismi</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Riflessioni</category><title>FIDARSI E&#39; BENE (?)</title><atom:summary type="text">

&amp;nbsp;











&quot;Il modo migliore&amp;nbsp;
per scoprire&amp;nbsp;
se ci si può fidare di qualcuno&amp;nbsp;
e di dargli fiducia&quot;.&amp;nbsp;
(Ernest Hemingway)



</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2017/11/fidarsi-e-bene.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGDFAcGy5GxZInmdAj3O62lqKNhd2oI3KMdyG-LeeJjTCSAyI8kISwXGojURSha1WUJxuVntbmyzhss0J9KncFCbQVAlVbH3dEEHrhe3TDfkbRysR5ptaqpoQvoU6NrQW7XrvFEhTKKlU/s72-c/ernest-hemingway-9334498-1-402.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-3868754252002634827</guid><pubDate>Sun, 22 Oct 2017 21:02:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-10-26T10:46:31.745+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Musica</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personale</category><title>SONO SOLO CANZONETTE</title><atom:summary type="text">



Vedi mi sentivo strano sai perché

Stavo pensando a te

Stavo pensando che


Che figata andare al mare quando gli altri lavorano

Che figata fumare in spiaggia con i draghi che volano

Che figata non avere orari né doveri o pensieri

Che figata tornare tardi con nessuno che chiede “dov’eri?”

Che figata quando a casa scrivo

Quando poi svuoto il frigo

Che fastidio sentirti dire “sei pigro”

</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2017/10/sono-solo-canzonette.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/l--xsl90TfQ/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-5517497761375387116</guid><pubDate>Mon, 02 Oct 2017 03:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-10-02T06:38:25.067+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personale</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Riflessioni</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Svago</category><title>L&#39;AUTUNNO DENTRO</title><atom:summary type="text">
























Sconfinata assenza ...

&quot; ... la più sicura,&amp;nbsp;
la più efficace,&amp;nbsp;
la
più viva,&amp;nbsp;
la più indistruttibile,&amp;nbsp;
la più fedele delle presenze&quot;.

</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2017/10/lautunno-dentro.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvEkVZ-p7AQWGEEaVcK9yyuh78ODmDqTT8ey3Glp2jdduD6RMBmtFcxETZFPEXxM2EmGPyVLo95loMfdUewAaJ71zsxRbufkMsfJ1sDk9Z6wcWS6VSD2lYqzyXx3O0B5zwXHkIkKGr0h0/s72-c/20171001_141548.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6815441761666744285.post-6537097396406912661</guid><pubDate>Fri, 22 Sep 2017 21:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-23T13:37:21.472+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personale</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Svago</category><title>PANTA REI</title><atom:summary type="text">&quot;Blessed is the person who expects nothing,
for they shall never be disappointed&quot;. (semicit.)
</atom:summary><link>http://ivestitidelre.blogspot.com/2017/09/panta-rei.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simona)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>