It rained continuously all day. I drove around, trying not to get out of the car. Shopping and watching the town from inside my car. Listening to operatic music.
I am feeling so lost. I wonder how long would it be before everything normalizes. Endless beginnings and interruptions. False starts and hopes. A day dawns with promise and ends with catastrophe. Or is it the other way around?
Christa Ludwig sings with so much feeling. I can feel her voice rising and filling the room. I turn the lights off and sits back in my chair.
Perhaps it is the turn of the Albanians. Things always come to pass.
Come Scoglio.
Opera buffa its finest tradition. Alfredo Kraus in his finest. Juxtapose this to impossibilities and endless waits. Complicated plots. Implausable excuses. Transpose them to modern times.
Ah, lo veggio!
What am I to do? Mornings and evenings. There is nothing to any of this, just simply a dream. A smile. What do we want? Soldiers leave, Albanians arrive. Albanians depart, soldiers arrive. The plot is so complicated. I know where this story ends. I have read the libretto.
Donne mie, la fate a tanti
Why does it become so complicated? It does not have to be. It could be something simple, without lies and prevarications and schemes. But it will never be. That is how the world is. Just be. But it won't be. Scorpions and zen masters, it is all in their nature.
Non siate ritrosi
I am going to sit here into the night listening to the opera. I have a few books with me. Tomorrow I will seek surprises. And I will smile all over again.
So here I leave the blog a quiet night. Un aura amorosa.
