What the fountain looked like before:
Left:
Last month, he deployed half a million colored balls down the Spanish Steps. The Italian word for balls is ‘palle’, which also means lies.
A before and after picture:
Left: After. Right: Before. Had to crop half of the picture out because I was in it.
A few balls ended up in the Barcaccia fountain. Some of the balls ended up on eBay, selling at a starting price of 50 Euros.
A before picture:
Who is he? He’s Graziano Cecchini, an Italian artist and activist. Interested to find out more? Sila google.
All the after photos were stolen from other websites. The before photos I left unedited except for resizing and cropping. Not in a very rajin mood.
Responding to some statements a blogger and a few of his cheerleaders made about me about being bloody egoistic, young, full of millions of fucking excuses, taking things too literally and lacking wit in my writing, well. Fighting on the internet is like competing in the Special Olympics. Even if you win, you’re still retarded. And there’s nothing more retarded than a grown up arguing with a young girl.
Once again I’m reminded why I started blogging. I didn’t do it to seek anyone’s approval or support. I just wanted to relate to other people. I admit that my reasons strayed for a while when I realized that people were reading. I suddenly became more conscious of my writing. For a while I felt like I was writing for them and not for myself. Not anymore. From now on, I’m just going to write for myself.
5 comments:
they are old. old people craps a lot.
Haha. Not all old people though.Some old people are full of wisdom.:)
(Don't want to become exactly like him, generalising all young people as full of excuses and hedonistic)
Normal progression, I mean writing for people as you start to realise people are reading.
No offense to you, but blogging gets lame as you grow older. It was fun to write and rant about my observations and misgivings in my early 20s. But if you're over 30 and doing it, it's just sad.
I especially feel indescribable disdain when somebody puts up a disclaimer on their blog that says: This is a place where I rant, rave bla bla bla. If you don't like it you can leave, cry bla bla bla. Seriously, do you think I care. If I don't like your posts, do you think I'll leave and spare your feelings? I won't leave without telling you that the inane crap you write simply manifests the buttface you are. I'll especially enjoy it more when you feel compelled to reply to comments by asking me to refer to your sad disclaimer. Boohoo! Chances are you're just another mediocre writer trying to sound interesting.
Of course, there are old asswipes whose self-esteem worsen when they see young girls like you write better than they do as they turn 35. And there will be cowardly pussies who'll encourage these asswipes to express their bitterness, because they're too stupid or scared to do it themselves through good posts with bold but rational content. They're too busy trying to appease the appetite of their audience which rank lower in the gene pool and can only stomach the mediocre rubbish they churn out in their bad English (or Bahasa Melayu cos that's the trend now!). Haha.
If you're 30 and over and seek solace and support through blogs or Facebook even though you're not facing terminal illness, get help.
Fast.
I'll never lose my youth even though I'm a 'duda tua' haha!
nice pix.
i've never been to rome. i've only been to venice.
i would love to visit rome someday. right now i must get to barcelona first, gaudy melambai-lambai suruh datang, hehe.
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