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Ardi and breathes


Unconsciousness and anger.
Run and scoured,
slips for the language of black wet cement that reflects the bad demons of the night.
Run and raise the volume.
Let your ears will burst.
Let the whole machine bangs,
creating a fiery flash that illuminates the night. A ray
all fiery red!
Nobody will stop you and nothing can stop you. Nobody
follow your instincts and if your madness night.
Run away, run away.
Forget the world and choose where to die.
This is not the fact that you touched.
This is not your life.
total detachment from reality a cruel and distant.
Cold and ice are to be your blanket,
the Gelt has now awakened from her sleep anxious and sweaty.
shrugged off that slow pain that made you drowsy slowly falling into this awful limbo unknown and hateful for its silence and its dirty sharp clarity.
Life still do not know,
fled into the night and enjoy the good transgression the black world that until now has been hidden from your eyes. Live
of your burden and your folly. Die
your anguished cry that can scratch the throat.
that you lost in the endless night of destiny!
you die in life.
Dare will be my last commandment.

... "You spin my head right round, right round
When you go down , When you go down down !"...

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And now let's all pause a moment.
breathe and close our eyes.
The world now appears before us as a daily routine of school-tasks-chat on msn-up cazzeggiano faccialibro-based drink mojito (alcoholics to moderate age of 18 years ... at 7 pm!) and all over again on Saturday night waiting to explode and make something bad out of the ordinary ... that the search for abnormalities of the weekend is something taken for granted .. "newspaper".
Then I propose a general detachment from it all, turn up the music in your room the most likely to drown the screams of your mother or neighbor who curse you. But
Choose something you like very much, the song of the series for which you would die, what is your life, you will be charged and to live according to just sit in a chair in the middle of nowhere.
detached from reality take a break and think about yourself.
But only you, no cocks and decks give you any discomfort or paranoia ... None
the head, it
guys, it
friends, teachers will

assholes or parents, even more assholes.
Not at all.
Only you.
Good. We
???............................................ Let ..................................... ............ .......................................
WHAT MAKES ME ALL VOLUME IN THIS MOMENT:








Mmmmmm ... this should be an excellent technique, is not it?
At least in one way or another, you go out from the mundane reality for at least 5 minutes and this is already so much, believe me.
But no, we continue to run after escaping life as if it were in any moment and we want to do too many things at once and in the end, we enjoy nothing.
Alright "live every day of your life as if it were the last" but ... Ladies "take it easy!" , Please ...
But you noticed?
will be that these days I'm living them completely estranged from the world and civil society, I feel like an amoeba at 11.05 down in the yard to smoke and then his Lucky bona, back step by step until lla its class.
be, but this morning as usual I went down in my backyard and after 5 minutes I was there in my seat and I thought of my cock (very polite today, I must say ... as you can see that life is going from god, is it?)
I realized that there is enormous uproar ... A real acoustics pollution that occurs every single day (except holidays) at the Liceo Classico Michelangelo ... crazy.
I found myself with my ears clogged with a strong buzz of voices that hung over one another and tried to prevail on all ... An annoying buzz like a hive full of ants to the utmost of its ability, that it is almost broke.
least 700 teenagers who flock to 90 mt / q and talk talk talk ... move your jaw and emit sounds.
Within 15 minutes of probation we pack into a second cage dgrogarci of words poor and inconclusive, lined up and brought out from the mouth as if nothing had happened, without giving too much importance, without listening to what we say, let alone , listen to what they have to say in response to our stakeholders.
Where are we now?
In the 5th canto of Dante's purgatory, where every soul tries to talk to Dante quickly and without losing too time?
HELP.
I want a break, stop with this egocentric talkative, zittitevi.
catch your breath and turn off those cigarettes that make you come here to just cancer ... or talk or you enjoy your cigarette.
The world is still where you left it after a break, even after 20 seconds of pure apnea.
not beat it.

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OUT TO FAR ... from the room 405. Fan

EVERY DAY SHE writes WORDS AND MORE WORDS JUST TO SPIT OUT THE Thoughts THAT KEEP FLOATING INSIDE ..
Where the fuck was over?
How could it be already done everything?
I had expected, she had waited for months and then for hours to days and then giving birth inside when a nervous frenzy and absurd, that excitement could barely contain the his body and was often so strong that resonated in the laughs that erupted in the silence of a Czech class during a task of greek, or while on bus or at dinner with his family.
They said they laugh at least 15 minutes a day did just fine and she welcomed andandone fair though sometimes passed for a fool.
Now, however, was more sure that laughter had left them in the hotel room 405 and would hardly found.
She knew, she was conscious, and this time was playing catered aware of what he was going against, but nevertheless it is the words of an unknown semi ("You must always start positive , never see the glass half empty or think the worst! If not then it goes like as it was hoped, was hurt and we can also weep over but we do not ever regret those things we had hoped, we leave proud of. ") is Hope, which, as know, now and always will be the last to die (I-series CAMPER -IN-EVER) had led to a state of acute neurosis that does not give her a peaceful night's sleep in the bed, unknown .

" A miracle, please God, even if you do not believe in you, now it's your occasioneper tell me you're really there to watch over our heads, to give me proof of your omnipotence ... facccheaccadafaccheacadafacccheaccada ... "

went out from the black tunnel in the air of a cold winter still unknown to her skin, a woman of the south.
The fog and humidity, invested in an instant. He took a breath and open your eyes before her performance in the marble slabs that created figures and plots that always came up more top inextricable human eye .

" Where are you?"

you seek to pick up some crumbs of positivism that he had left along with laughter listening to " HAPPY UP HERE " of Roiskopp but ... nothing.

"Look God, I assure you that this is an opportunity to be seized ... I like Manzoni's when the panic attack was in the Cathedral of Milan, MI CONVERT! "

and found that it was perhaps more frozen instead of her, despite the wet and cold, began to sweat and breathe heavily .

"God .. God, carpe diem ! CARPE DIEM !"

...

" God carpe diem ... Ecccheccazzo , God, I'm done with you even before the opening! "

We found them ... like ... like a dreamer who had not noticed that by dint of his mind was wandering over to his house in the country far away, unknown and cold.
He found himself lost in a time of two minutes, in time to say "Hello".
He looked around to finishing the set enchanted illuminated poster and departure arrivals with its written in the blinding bright orange. So ?....
Finished ?..... What, so ...?
.. But what about me? And I now?

went out from that unknown place and looked around.
But where were directors and scripts for films and the romantic mushy meatloaf-going?
Why there was never appropriate time?
Shit, and they say in Italy there is a crisis and we do not work! Macccheccazzo , if not then you have not!
Come on, I need a director shouts "Action!"
that says "Enter the boy running, running and panting, looking scared and searching through the crowd looking for it, scared from having now lost
...!" "Come on boy, running, I recommend! Running and screaming his name bush grabbing them by the arm, in the midst of that horde of strangers and then do what you need to do (we all know) and remove the scene to reveal evidence of anything with the name and surnames of the two protagonists in the first place.

... "Second disappointment of the day: the directors.
So go into making a company God who feels lonely ."...

She remains a bit ' time out and makes the floor plan waiting to hear his name shouted to him to stop and ritrovarselo behind thing that will never happen (it is guaranteed, can be found even among the laws of Murphy , I'm more than convinced).
And so, slowly, looking more and more dispersed in a vacuum realigns its paces on the road that he had done before him, still stunned and in disbelief that this time even the saying "Will and power" had had an effect on her, still amazed by how the director had cut the final scene, important to make a change in history, indeed, essential to define all that pout - pourri of words written on a computer screen for too long .., to define a story with S capital (actually huge). 45 Km

were listening to "Far Far" as the train was traveling, were
45 Km to understand more and more that part of the song where Yael Naim says " HOW CAN YOU TAY OUTSIDE ? THERE 'SA BEAUTIFULL MESS INSIDE .
were 45 Km to realize that difficult would be able to stop rambling and sometimes you would find herself being tossed around on trains or planes ( why not?) sent back as a parcel not freed after he had achieved his dreams with the city and far away places and preposterous .
were 45 Km that he realized that this story was already was written specially for her , who knows ... certainly not as the author of the beloved and dear Jack Kerouac , no, he was more passionate and rude, and more adventurous, he would choose a ' setting more warm and fog-free and perhaps even a co-star that would imposed on the director and he played the final scene even though he would be cut anyway.
Who knows who had written it, perhaps yet another budding author who still believed that the end was banal and the romantic plot suitable for a "whole roses and flowers ...


In my own risk, in a moment of madness, I will publish these words put together on the Firenze-Modena is almost sure that they are not read (or at most stops on the 10th row!) by the person "semi-direct question." Not many
worries ,
the digress .

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walked, had just left the cinema and he was going to the curb following his foot and a front of the other traced the immediate future of his position. It was completely
immersed in another world from behind his glasses to look at reality as blacks was a performance in 3D of what gave the film: with the same enthusiasm and wonder that test a child wearing the legendary red and blue glasses, she watched the sad and gray day that is the city. A
forward soundtrack was the ' mp 3, which had very inculcated in his ears as if to break his eardrums.
Where else would fall one more time?
In what fantasy, what a dream, that 'would have moved away from reality, was about to go into?
did not know how an inmate and walked directly to the gallows.
After all, even magical and fascinating had to take that thing and go to apparent reality, these drugs were more bad in a human could use: nausea created dependency and at the same time.
But the damage was done, again, yet another time ...

"At the sound of an accordion, his thoughts wandered in circles in her head while she sat on a chair in the middle saw them all accompanied by a dancer who floated elegant red dresses in their front her dancing a tango and a waltz then whirling, falling almost in a circle with the speed that were acquiring and then losing.
was a carousel endless and fascinating but soon became a whirlwind to aspirale, sparaflasch colors, red and green phosphorescent were tied with black stripes and white, his head began to dolerle and eyes to burn, even lowered her eyelids for a fraction of a second so he was afraid of losing something of that scene spectacular, but not disenchanted from turning by now had become a multi-disc, like a lollipop of those who fabricated back when our grandparents were children.
His heart beat to the music while looking around to see the man in the distance in the background, behind all the dancers played the accordion with a lot of passion from start to dance too, rising from his chair and circling around it.
attacked the chorus and he looked at her searching eyes, as if to infuse slipping over the fingers so much seemed to have a Tutt 'one, that instead of your arms God wanted an accordion with the harmonious sound capable of divine ecstasy and divine and mortal, and enchanting dragging with it oblivion of infinity that is the music ."...

So the impact this range of thoughts exploded in my head while listening to that of C. NOYE impulse was thrown on the keyboard of his old PC .
Nor could how to write the music was taking his arms were on their legs and well, fingers barely managed to hold it above the keyboard while they would rather like butterflies hover above his head mo 'director of 'orchestra.
STOP. so atrocious that emotion that overtook him each time he touched the keyboard black and white

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fingers if he felt heavy, trembling in front of the PC keyboard while Yann Tiersen flowed from the coffers of his CD player .
rings he wore the ring on the index and burned, they felt like lead weights that prevented her from returning to hop on those keys, each with an assigned letter.
was scared and hesitant, was not immediately able to enter the page of his blog, so there was the time that access. He might, she could find her?
thought that perhaps all those writings, those words, those phrases, so rich and heavy with meaning for her now indecipherable and unknown, were among them, after all, a past now expired and remote.
He opened his hands and stretched over the keyboard, his fingers moved frantically as to arouse a deep numbness.
But now, despite the rings, which certainly was not raised, fingers began to resume familiar with the keyboard and cradled by notes of " Childhood "reported her mind a vague and blurred thoughts and memories, all of which pertain to the past that had written on a bright available to everyone, but not her.
It seemed almost impossible that the music could still have this effect on his mind, he was again enticing to express thoughts more than ever would recognized as his own, after being drawn on the blank page of writing.
Yes, because this was the effect it had on her well-known melodies and unknown, hypnotic effect, transit, and this allowed his thoughts to go out and enjoy themselves from head for half an hour, an hour ... To take the air "oxygen", as if they were inmates in a prison, dark and dry where they were forcibly inculcated concepts and information by outsiders who imposed on his person on the pretext of them "know the world."
take breath deeply and then taken in a fast and absurd travel more distance the more possible to her, but never leaving the room they were in, afraid to lose and they can not find more a bed and a hot meal that only one head in the prison were certain they would find.

Believe it or not, Yann Tiersen is finished with his CD Goodbye Lenin as well as I woke up and I have no more idea of \u200b\u200bwhat I wrote, even rereading not find nothing of my thoughts, my words, but perhaps maybe that's the side more sincere to me.
I go to sleep with "Far Far" satisfied that I remembered the password to enter the blog and be able to rewrite it again, even if with difficulty and doubt ...

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Γνῶθι Σεαυτόν August 3

Just today I opened my blog page at the picture of the fortune cookie says: "Do not take things too seriusly .

begin to have some doubt that it is just a simple gadget for this biscuit Chinese web pages, we hit a mess of times with me.

However just to stay on the subject of serious ...

Γνῶθι Σεαυτόν tonight was that I said out loud, was released from my lips smooth and innocent as a simple hello and nothing more ... But this I did fear, all this put me more terror knows what else.

are only two words placed in line, two words of ancient greek, but uttered from the mouth of a neo eighteen which is still a beginner with life on a beach in Punta Ala 3.30 for any night of August, well, things get heavy, especially if the first to believe in those words is precisely the one that has spoken.

I understand that nothing serious seems to escape so light colored on the page of this blog or even worse on Facebook , where they end up all my actions, but this sentence to me and not a little scared ...

So now I find myself here, the oxen, lying on a bed with the waves crashing in the distance and the heavy breathing of Clari Blessed sleeping here beside me in the next room while other people unknown to me, almost purring like a few, lost in their dreams and totally detached from the reality of the night.

But I keep turning over in bed and knotted the sheets around her legs, look at the ceiling and think about all that we had called them on the shore, the harbor, under the stars, while two men not far from us were thrown naked into the water and bathed in moonlight.

makes me wonder how I left it with a sudden "But I know myself, I know, I admit I stretched out my flaws and I know the because react in a certain way even if I can pretend in front of others or else, my because I have now all revealed.

... I felt lucky that's all, I responded with a "Lucky you! If you know yourself, my dear, you blessed, but to really ...!!!"

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I felt cold, I was shocked and I are self-frightened, self-fear.

Knowing yourself in 18 years, lucky you, but I only know this, I only know myself 18 years and nothing else, what this involves, never try good luck and throw myself into the fray as well in something that is actually my antipodes?

recklessness and impulsiveness is what to save me, this is my character, but I know the feeling of being more old compared to them, to find me on a different wavelength that is not theirs, on another planet, as if I was passed to the next level of a video game without waiting, without following in the level of Love, because that's what I missed.

So how you feel, early or a lost case?

arrive on the goal pre or sometimes we get lost in the pursuit of our goal without being ever again?

But maybe I have to reread the instructions of the game and see if skipping a level and winning the next one you can always go back and play that game too, that fundamental game.

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Rustling of sheets ... He wakes up, opens one eye .. the light is filtering from the blue tent designs Arabs and the room took on a whole other matter ... The cold light of dawn had awakened a soothing sleep for her that night too upset to bitter and yet ... she could not cry, and even now he could go down a tear from his eyes.
had passed only a couple of minutes after you get up when he remembered who he was and what was now the sad.
took the iPod and if you shot in your ears.
closed his eyes and stood relaxed, to relax all the muscles ... the music starts. Why .... Why ....
thought back to some hours before when it was still night and was returning to the scooter, it was found .. in the arms of a friend or an old man crying on his shoulder looking back almost saw his figure slipped to the embankment resting on his shoulder the night that continually tried to console her with gentle words and jokes ...
fucking like a movie ... like the one that plays the part of the sucker in a movie ...
He put music to the max: porcaputtana who cares if I split the eardrums . And was there
ow that shit, as he wrote a bloody finger and could not keep up his thoughts, his emotions were running on that keyboard smeared the text and making it full of errors.
He wanted to run. "We put a pair of shoes and flies down the stairs, go out and run, run like crazy at breakneck speed, but please do it, downloaded reach the highest point of the road, where you see them from across the country and you seems to be bordering on reality, go run down the right and then screaming and crying all your sadness, crying the whole campaign, tried to feel you up in Florence, destroy the voice, throat, spits out everything you have inside, you finish all the breath you have left and gets breathless fell to the ground in the grass ... Foul. "
"And who the hell he would care if this post might read in many, who headed it matter ?..."
He turned to look at his bed, unmade, and blue light filtering from the tent ... and saw those little things that had fueled his imagination, the heart is squeezed a bit but realized that nothing had happened at the end of accounts, that little moment that was just a small detail for her important and deceptive, meaningless for him, if I ever remembered him ... .
He realized that this time his mind had been traveling too much and fantasized as never before, that drugs are the dreams that had conquered again, duped and then beat them in the face.
"But because he had set so much? Not even know him well ... "
.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . BREATHE! . . . ... . .. .. . . .. Fatigue ..
fingers on the keyboard suddenly stopped and the mind as well, froze behind the notes of Halo, closed his eyes, imagining only see black and empty, but the gap was not present them in front of his closed eyes he saw that the Hope is the last to die forever, even when she wants it to be the first to die.
"Alright AC prepared to commit suicide, your life is a carousel after all, jump on and race against time, after a while someone will start to follow you ."

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Check-inn


So now I am here, with a small light bulb just enough to let me know that I need space to breathe in this universe who is black, suffocating life.
In a summer night by mistake I left the usual round spoiled young man that life presents to us in 2009 and, shit, I'm here and I think.
"But I had to just hide in this box?" I had to scream just time out and shut me in here to observe what is outside my life ?...".
If the first life I was scared when I was there in, now the only way to salvation scappareda I see is this, to escape from this existence where happiness is something ephemeral and unstable, and harmful to only drug the same time, the only glimmer of light that makes you go forward. We
plastic masks a reality where we are not allowed to reveal our truth, but only emulate to reduce us to be something smaller than that for which we had brought.
We believe young people with the balls, the new generation, "the young, the future, we'll get the government and there will peace in the world, in Italy will be elected Chairman of the Mongolian origins and the financial crisis will have already been more ... buried that, we get to Palermo from London in two hours starting at 10 am for having lunch with fish freshly caught and fuck with our lover Sicily Turin without his wife knowing it. "
We filled his head with words and phrases, speeches and images projected on plasma screens in 3D graphics where progress has been made to scream, so that those who are just drawings seem photographs taken in the future ... We attract visitors with their dreams and plans, with the ideals common to all generations, the same ideals that had Johnn Lennon, I mean ..., just a little revised and modernized.
Cosi the day we get on the bus, sitting on the bike, hit the clutch to start the motor and head for the city, losing its way and cluttering the streets, polluting and being stuck in traffic, sweating as a desperate effort behind those masks to wear, that make us nervous and sometimes comes to grab and throw them on the ground, low-cut from our faces.
But how do you remove the mask if it's aware that once we no longer recognize any of this?
Let's say you get tired of that fucking mask that you brought your whole life without even remember why you chose that one, if you've chosen for yourself or if you were to put on your face the first, let's say you're bored one night you and me to take it ... grab the elastic that keeps the neck and pulling tireresi, delaminations that piece of plastic out of your wet skin and begin to respire in deeply as you ever did ... Would you feel free, yourself, yourself, but really only for a few minutes, then the reason why few propio return to the surface in your consciousness and you'd realize that, fuck, low-cut cabbage that you face from your person, you recognize who the hell now?
submitted by you and your them?
do not recognize you until you would have told him a few episodes of your childhood particularly intimate and unusual ... so you do not welcome him with open arms and a smile of pride on my lips, but they were angry and upset by asking but What the fuck did you have ruined your future! and I who had invested in you (megaparolone that makes them blow up a casino and at the same time makes you feel a m ****) and I chose the best schools best suits the course of piano and you'd better pay heed to the British for seven years bleeding from the coast ...
We find ourselves more alone than ever, locked in our bedroom, as outcasts in the eyes of all our family, they sat on the bed with the fucking mask that we try in vain to re-paste on our face, but not because we want because if we are forced to live in society that until now had surrounded us, if we continue to live with some certainty that we were given false-security is reputed to be our strengths, our headlights in the night.
we all come together to conduct plastic screw the day, wearing clothes and doing the good eco-citizens who do not pollute their city, and cabbage that are health-conscious prtaicano yoga and go running with the neighbor at 7 Wednesday and Friday morning to keep fit.
But every Friday night to close the plastic clothes in the closet and wear what really pleases us, we will become increasingly PPIU outrageous and outside the rules, leaving the office to take the car and head towards a tobacco away on the outskirts of city \u200b\u200bwhere nobody knows us, buy a carton of Lucky Strike and we will return home secretly hiding the cue in the daily newspaper and putting the bag in my purse ... goodbye to the neighbors who are watering their piece of the garden and we will enter in our underwear and get in appartamento.Ci Sleeveless ignite our first cigarette of the weekend and choose what to wear to go out at night ... reckless leaders, tiger, zebra ..., striped, black, red ... ... socks and black eye makeup pesanetemente big hair and fingers smelling of tobacco ... And so we would live in that vicious circle that is the working life of masks made of pastry and chosen by the company and to your tax person with only the consolation of the weekend.

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Cut.
Pause. She could not
more of war and dukes who were dying like flies on his history book.
He put his headphones' s mp 3 in my ears and fell to the ground, in the middle of his room, star, with his eyes open.
The late afternoon light filtered through the blue curtain and a radius orange came from a side where the curtain did not cover, allowing the room to take on an atmosphere worthy of a summer afternoon.
We had come to an end and we had not ever said she found herself to lag behind greek and latin. But now
break. Break from the world that was outside the room, break from the world that he was inside all those books that filled the library before her.
BECOME played by Einaudi.
closed his eyes and tried to remember the first time she had heard that song in the car and saw his father, in Cosenza, while he was hesitating whether or not to go to the apartment of his aunt. RAI-Radio 3 was sending the broadcast as "new release" ... and that is how she fell in love.
His hand began to twirl in the air from the first notes, as held in his hand the bow of his violin and play with the same duet Einaudi.
A chill blows my back now that he was lying there with eyes closed.
... A gray morning and a trip that ended more direct in Frankfurt with a band of orchestranti.
exhausted and sleep deprived from a tiring trip by plane was found to extend the cap on mp 3 of the boy who stood beside her in coach, strongly conscious and proud, convinced that was a gift to know Einaudi of more large, a gift that he would do to a stranger who then was not that much unknown cellist.
crazy how that song had influenced an entire year of his life if not more ...
Listening to go back in time and was able to try the same feelings. He saw himself lying
in a vast and green lawn with open arms and legs linked to another girl who lived in the same place by a thin white thread of his Ipod .
The sun was caught and forced to stand still with eyes closed in that vast prairie: summer 2007, Bradfield College, London : debut with a song a cappella in front to 210 boys and Sardinian of his life that he would continue to hope to meet ever- re ...
And now here he was in his room lying on the ground like an idiot. He was wondering what would
said his mother if he had opened the door.
I felt too stupid 'but I was tempted to go back too and attracted much.
His fingers began to hop on parqouet to music, her heart clenched and took a huge breath filling his lungs as he had never done a shiver throughout the beating and came back to the feet, emotions contrast is about to collide with the inside of her risk of causing a heart attack aged just 18 years premature.
Fear for the final outcome of that year, anger, and old cooked remember, unforgettable emotions, that the wet grass, the cold of Germany, which is absurd Hot on Dec. 24 in Calabria ... invaded it all together in a single instant.
continued to stand still in that room, it felt like tied by the wrists and ankles, only the fingers of both hands were free and as such they were trying to break away from the hand and almost bouncing endlessly, caught by nervousness and frenzy.
All this was the reaction to a similar track.
was a scream of inner desire to live, experience the excitement more just overwhelming, the search for a freedom impossible, to search for hot summer nights spent around the city, running after the bike rack of some screaming and laughing, making the space between the crowds of tourists, arriving late or sleepless nights to eventually get out of too many beers with a group of English while watching the game in the square, on the night travel Scooter dressed only in a shirt and feel the warm sticky air that persists in the mesh and you enter the swells, the desire to stay awake until dawn in a field waiting for the sun, the frenzy of trying a Rawe where posted and beat to death.
... We miss 16 days, 5 hours and 15 minutes ... Then all this will initiate '.