Roll the dice

these things

these things that we support most well 
have nothing to do with us, 
and we do with them 
out of boredom or fear or money 
or cracked intelligence; 
our circle and our candle of light 
being small, 
so small we cannot bear it, 
we heave out with Idea 
and lose the Center: 
all wax without the wick, 
and we see names that once meant 
wisdom, 
like signs into ghost towns, 
and only the graves are real.

Charles Bukowski

Nanà

In the late 1800, society was sexually repressed. Wifes would copulate only for procreation purposes, and would not find any pleasure in sex, or at least they would pretend so (a very anti-symmetrical pretending compared to nowadays). In such environment, husbands would be ready to everything for a bit of love, and would have to find comfort in love affairs, or worse in prostitutes, singers or actresses. Prostitutes like Nanà, whose sex attract all layers of Parisian society, whose lust and vices dominate above all false morality. Men stand in line for Nanà, burn their money, go to jail for her, kill themselves with knives or fire. They are all hypnotized, captured, possessed by Nanà's beauty and charme. Nanà is their last harbor for love, and their damnation. All for a bit of sex. All for a bit of love. Luckily nowadays society is completely different.



Tira cchi'assai 'n pilu di pacchiu ca 'n carru di voi