Street.
Let's go.
Where?
Everywhere.
And where would you go?
island!
on which island?
Island!
...
Sometimes I talk to the walls.
You say that to scare me? Besides
are empty.
...
Yes I vuota.Non c'è niente all'interno.
Guarda!
Riempo, riempo, riempo, ed è sempre tutto vuoto, come il mio conto in banca.
Lavoro, lavoro, lavoro, sono diventata una formica e non ho mai un soldo in più da spendere.
Vuota.
Come quando passo di fronte ad una pasticceria.
Quella pasticceria che fa angolo.
In bici rallento per riempirmi del profumo di zucchero, crema al limone, pasta cotta al forno, cioccolato, e penso: un giorno mi fermerò e mi prenderò qualcosa. Mi immagino così di fronte al bancone e mi ritrovo a desiderare tutto, persa nell'indecisione della scelta di un'unica cosa. Bombolone cream? Sicilian cannoli? Ambassador? Pasta Fruit and cream? Ricotta cheese cake and chocolate sprinkles? Ricotta ravioli? Fan? Yes maybe a fan with the sugar that is caramelized on the bottom ... No nay a paste with whipped cream!
Ok! Whipped cream! But with a piece of chocolate cake!
Then I'm restless.
I think of the sacrifices to treat and dispose of the damned I end up pedaling faster.
And I feel even more empty. With an empty stomach, and the belief that is fattening even the thought of such things!
As a matter of metabolism, I tell myself.
Yes, they are empty. There is nothing inside.
Nothing.
not recognize myself in anything.
I can not even more indignant.
My indignation is accompanied by an awareness now.
awareness of the impossibility of change in my company, capable of indignation or just for audience to have more then I am not indignant voti.E più.Nemmeno Obama has been able to flesh out my faith. But perhaps they can save.
are empty.
As the faces on the subway.
empty, as the contents of a program di Vespa.
Sono vuota.
Come quando guardo un tigì.
Come quando guardo un tigì e dopo un po' comincio a immaginarmi che seduto a tavola, come me, in quel momento, ci sia qualcuno, per esempio, che crede alle cazzate dei politici, alle cazzate della Confindustria...la C o n f i n d u s t r i a , che crede ancora alle notizie dei tigì, qualsiasi tigì, all'onesta di chi cerca di indottrinarti, a che le cose cambieranno, al fatto che a Napoli non sia più la spazzatura, che il nucleare risolverà la crisi energetica, che la riforma della scuola sia cosa buona e gusta, penso alle facce di queste persone, a quello che mangiano e se si sono fatte il vaccino flu!, if you believe those who from 1000 € if you call your son Benito, who invokes national unity as an atheist calls upon the Lord, who offers a lavoro_tempo_determinato_scopo_assunzione!, those who think your good ... and sake of your children!
(Never someone to tell me: I think the good of my children ... so that's why I do not at all! Also why the fuck do you imagine that would send the children?)
And after that is finished I tigi I feel even more empty by the fullness that I think of others!
are empty.
Anita is sick.
It seems that if you're old and you're sick is normal. Almost
taken for granted as if it mattered too much. A pension
less after all! No? A cost less ... No?
's all normal, if you're old you die! And before you go the better.
Unless you do not call Eluana.
So much the worse for you.
No right. Not even the dignity and permanence to the bitter end in this world waiting for a miracle or any warning to anyone who wanted
want to die with dignity.
You have no right, godless bastards! We decide it for you!
And now you can not agree to such things!
The debauchery of Western ways intransigence contrasts with the eastern ...
mica and want us to keep us figures like shit?
no time that we do not defend our religion!
After all, ours is better than theirs.
(although the burka is not a bad idea ...)
And then a little 'sound of repression has never hurt anyone.
And quiet beginning on TG4! (0 Tg1 or Tg2 take your pick.)
are empty commuter train on this with me Vinicio accompanies it.
And I cry for no reason. Every now and then. Like today.
will be a hormonal issue, I think.
Sometimes happens when there is no room for melancholy.
The train runs on. The train.
are empty and dry.
Now that the monsters do not dance more than sit and watch what happens.
Dissolved in memories, faded figures of film in black and white, silent.
The music stopped and some people went home.
Like ghosts.
As a child when I asked my dad to get up
più_in_alto_più_in_alto to touch the stars,
più_in_alto elusive.
Love can not go higher than this,
can not be touched but only look .
are empty.
Now that most do not.
Now I play the lottery and hope to win.
Empty, love.
And I have no words. I can not write what I feel.
are empty.
thoughts faded as the faces that I can not see.
Are empty, you see?
Maybe I'll go away one day. again.
I'm not the captain.
I'll go away.
To start a principle.
to never end.
For never having to say hello
but I'll see you again now that I have to go eat.
S onovuot a.
are not empty and that sometimes you have to complain.
enough to say that you wanted to cuddle.
Come on! Come here, little monkey!
We do the Christmas tree?
...
