Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Unhandled Exception C00000005 00652f30
After the bad news that has ruined the afternoon everybody, I decide not to go to the bar.
not want to hear talk of people who maybe did not know him, people who thought he knew everything about him, people who may not even greeted him but tells of pseudo adventures with him. So I call
Lele, party, 60km to drink a coffee, we ended up in Feltham, smoking a cigarette in the former manufacturing Piave lady, now restored.
Great place, great serenity and the snowy mountains, we talked all of this and that, of love intended and unintended, of excuses and reasons, of Titus, of school and work, fitness and life, a true stream of consciousness, without prejudice and without anything to prove or to prove ...
Sugar soundtrack,
leave you some goodies' s latest album
-
Wonderful Life - The flight
- Diamond
- Dune Mosse
- Give me the sun
-
Bread and Salt - Hey Man
- Va, pensiero
- Miserere
and so before going to bed after a sacred curse to Professor Calculus, I thought back to all my women, especially the old, but I hope future (at least :-)).
I thought about all the crap, all the money spent on them, all the slaps, all jealousies, punches, beatings, bouncers, night in Jesolo, fears, dreams, abandonment. .
Yes, because when you have a piece of your heart you will never have more back, you're suspended in the air, you have a goal, you have nothing ... Yet the same
live well, you seem to have it all.
And then, then you see them with another, you see them hide those eyes you've ever tried to pull back the hands you have always wanted, turn those shoulders you've always defended.
and feel the anger, feel my fists closed and a right part, the best right-Carnera, a perfect straight right as a penalty kick from Di Canio, and breaks the vacuum, the void that permeates your heart. Saved.
You wonder if it is better to love and then suffer, or not to love and then not suffer.
And there is no answer, there is no logic and razocinio.
There's only race without knowing where to go, running just to run, survive and live, and think she is drunk, there's no fucking and making love, is to study and do not understand, c 'is heard and not heard.
There are old friends, gangs, fights and dances, discos, night life for the local is sought and not found, and only you always look and never find, if not more scatter in the memories.
And then one day see her in passing in a bus, a smile, that smile you thought was yours, addressed to someone else and we understand that as you hope your stop has not yet arrived. There
run after that bus, there's swearing, there is hiding to avoid being seen, there is groped, groped to understand what does not work, what mistakes.
It saves you a consideration, except that you've never changed, except that you can tell I'm still here and nothing has changed.
you save because they have seen people take the wrong path, you save the fact of having someone up there praying for you, to have a father and a mother who are rooting for you, you have two friends, but friends of the right ones, have sent many people to fuck off and not be afraid to do it again.
you save the anger and the pride you save, you save years of broad shoulders in turn, saves you the smile of your coach, you save a Peugeot 307 which runs to Feltre.
Fuck bus, continue on your way.
Lele, next time I smoke two cigarettes of ladies ...
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