You can not decide what to do with his life in a week. Or maybe you.
Because that's what I'm doing I.
window this time does not give me advice, but only the sense of emptiness and lack of required footings. I pop my head and I get sucked into 5 floors of questions like the one above the other books in the library of Alexandria. Questions from the most bizarre facets divided by topic and dead line.
then carry the head on this side of the protective bars, here safe from terminal enigmatic right not to feel even more stifled than it already I am. The heat helps to develop non-sticky lines discursive, indeed, emphasizes the difficult path towards a final synthesis and decisive.
Skin armor weighs like lead and head around the sound box is made of a concert where a string quartet shrill manages to keep time only on the first line of the staff lost in arrhythmic harmonies once again.
The sounds are out of tune, the notes do not mean anything.
The drops of sweat undergo gravity with meticulous slow, zealous in their duty to keep my body temperature to an acceptable level.
It's hot in the summer that I never expected to pass this way.
But predictions are made may not be met because I was hoping to November in happiness, in March, under the cold Executioner hoped that in the heat of summer wrap Milan I would find peace, in days of good intentions and big plans.
But none of this was accomplished, but if we think only in the gospel to finish things go as planned, it was already known for millennia that someone would be sacrificed for the good of the world and they did.
There are constants that do not change, true, like Germany one of the first four of the world, the war in Afghanistan which Obama also continues to claim innocent victims, the acquittal of Berlusconi and Co. for all crimes of which were accused.
These are the constants, but we talk about facts relating to situations that do not belong in the world where I breathe, that of normal people.
As for us, simple bipedal branded from head to toe is a different matter because the tracks make every day to destinations different, because only one word to divert the parable of our thinking, because many times we fire the bullet that forecast fingers crossed, he meets on his race is always an element saboteur who will determine the trajectory or move the target.
must be able to adapt to every little change in course.
matter of instinct, a matter of luck at times.
you do not feel ready, I tremble
