Unlike many children of this Millenium, my nephew craves tales. She loves them even more than putting her thumbs on the iPad to play whatever game has the sounds of a marshmallow crying rainbows. She’s also a talented storyteller. To my memory, her best short story is this one:
Once upon a time there was an evil child, who devoured her evil father. Then came her evil mother, and she ate her too. Her evil brother faced the same fate. Then her grandma entered the basement. She was a good grandma. …
I have been trying for a month to write a helpful story, in the hope to earn the bucks I would gladly invest in a Dior Book Tote. Anytime I do, I get bored after two minutes. Also, I can’t take myself seriously. So, I get back to my “real job”.
I’m a comparative lawyer and a postdoc researcher. The easiest way to describe my skills is to say that I “analyze” how different State laws solve the same issues. Today I was revising the publishing contract of a graphic novel. …
Are you familiar with the functioning of a criminal trial? Most Western justice systems rely on the idea that justice is served on behalf of the people. Anglo-American law makes it clear in the most outstanding way. It’s “The People vs. John Doe”.
“The People” are an entity that dishes out punishments. In light of current political events, I keep revolving around an issue. Faults are inherently never on “The People”. But who’s “The People”? And is it always the righteous side? How do we react anytime “The People” are responsible for injustices?
On the first day of January, my mom sent me a couple of links on WhatsApp. They were her Fendi findings on Vinted. I would usually reply with a generic “nice!” and go along with my life, but I was surprised that the links came from Vinted.
For those of you who are not familiar with the name, Vinted is a second-hand marketplace start-up based in Lithuania. It’s now active in twelve European states and in the United States. To my knowledge as a vintage hunter, Vinted was not available in Italy. …
It struck me today.
I opened my homepage and there it was. The tenth author this week who re-read their past articles and found out they were not as good as they believed them to be.
I’m sure they learned some precious lessons from it, but I can’t open that story. It is too painful. A reminder of my empty womb.
This is a pandemic in the pandemic. Clearly, it was what Christopher Nolan had in mind the day he wrote the screenplay of Inception. Writers realizing they’re living the dream of excellent writing.
I quickly got to my first…
I know you accidentally hit the subscribe button while buying a Corgi-butt-shaped pillow on Kawaii.com. But aren’t you tired of not being able to choose the best tea mug for your binge-watch of The Crown 👑 ?
I recently realized people often feel stuck in their home, out of emergency rules everybody in the world should follow apart from Kim Kardashian. Still, even if you have the money to rent a tropical paradise 🏝, it could be temporary relief if you are troubled by the following issues:
I’ve always believed I am the people I met and loved during my life. That every one that touches your soul leaves an imprint.
It’s like you’re heavenly Play-Doh.
During the pandemic, I realized that my modelling compound has been shaped by someone I never recognized as a mentor: my mum’s mother. My grandma never pictured herself as a teacher. She was born in 1930 — shortly before the Second World War, in Italy — and she never went to school.
I lived by her home most of my childhood and she often looked at my education like an anomaly…
You all know Carl Jung, right? Along with Freud, he is the undiscussed father to psychoanalysis. Both authors have been influenced by a Swiss Professor, that went by the name of Théodore Flournoy. At the beginning of the twentieth century, Flournoy wrote an instant classic, From India To Planet Mars. The book was presented as a study on somnambulism, but it is now considered a pioneer work on multiple personalities.
Literary and historically speaking, there’s a lot more. This essay follows the life of a nineteenth-century woman Flournoy analyzed for years. …
I’m sorry, pal, this is a hard time for doormen.
All those Amazon’s packages won’t sort themselves out.
You know law and politics. The New York Times isn’t interested, as long as you don’t have a minor in musicology.
You have the right to a logo but you have to make on your own. So, if you’re not crafty, you’re screwed.
The only difference between you and a shepherd is that you get to be called Sir or Madam. Seriously, historians are still confused about this one.
Do you even know why you’re on Earth in the first place? …
A being. Trying to get somewhere. Probably, Mars.