Le voci in Agosto 
The humidity there is baking!
a couple of days I turn around in the sheets at night thinking about being in the tropics, where the skin is sticky and you always seem to have a wet cotton gauze on the face that will clog your breath. At least I think so
At least this is the idea that the tropics I got from the books of Kapunsciski. So maybe it is not the tropics but it is the image that best fit seem to me to 'heat of Rome.
I can sleep only a couple of hours, from five in the morning at seven. A friend I
Maltese advised to take a slight hangover, which helps to sleep anyway. And do you think is also why it brings us closer to the equator than most bars are a social institution
A nice drink with friends, because with the heat insomnia becomes a widespread problem. But with this I thought of drinking the moisture is almost unbearable. After all the booze I can not get real hot and the only heightens a cyclical problem that usually goes with the deadlines. So
shelter on the terrace, I sit among the flowers and a picnic table that smells of sea borne me a couple of books, a block from sketch IITA-pod. If I should just use a bottle of bitter orange. (If it happens maybe someone naghilè)
A woman in shorts with a shawl that he spends his nights on a terrace just to speculate and wait and wait and speculate.
In the silence of summer nights in silence
Like hell I do not mean the cars passing in the street or TV commercial jingles spewing from the open windows and illuminated by a blue dancer. These are buzzing in the background that say nothing, and who know their way of silence
I refer to all passers-by shooting at the mozzicate voice full of speeches values \u200b\u200bupwards, towards the lights. What if I cry from a sidewalk to another, grind them without taking breath through un telefonino, che li lasciano a metà da uno sportello della macchina prima di salire le scale e salutarsi.
Sono ormai due settimane che raccolgo tranci di queste parole nelle ore più disparate della notte.
Teorie sull’infedeltà maschile
Minacce di abbandoni per corna
Problemi d’affitto
Chi si vuole faresi chi e perché
Il lavoro che non c’è
L’Italia che non c’è
La gioai per esserci stati
L’amore di essersi ritrovati
Arriva tutto fino al quarto piano nitido, senza peccato, senza che possa giudicare o dire nulla di più. Naturale.
E sarà perché tra le mie ultime letture c’è Jodorowsky theater that I find this fascinating and fast and unconscious complex, because quite simple.
no need for two iSense, profound messages, revealed truths. Only real and universal truth because it simply true. That is perhaps entirely useless. It still needed for this for a living.
I could take it all and making a book of short stories. They would be absolutely pure: But did not anyone market, people do not seek the truth but its sublimation. You must tell the truth, but you have to say lying.
I think I love with Jodorowsky because it is a curious self-centered sincererà armed with a shocking and so, so that, magical.
Credo che questo mi dia anche la misura di alcuni miei vizi sentimentali e rovesciamenti connessi
“La bugia più grande è l’ego…”
