Friday, September 28, 2007
I'm going to run, I'm getting the sport or chain is dropped completely. I'm going to
dance, the mirror gives me back the image of a woman who can not be me.
I'm going to hear "The Medium" by Menotti and think of Monica.
her song.
A guy comes up and asks me to turn on.
E 'thin, has a camera exaggerated.
He asks me if I can take pictures of shoes.
I'm standing up smoking, do not know what to do: he
extends completely along the ground floor and I photographed their feet. (...)
Hundreds of jackets and ties standing up listening to other speakers ties compensation directly. Seeking
sideburns but is not. Instead, there is the usual
Francesco Paolo Lamotte I meet everywhere.
He says the last time ci siamo visti eravamo in acqua, al mare...
già, rispondo io.
Poi mi chiede se tasseranno tutte le rendite o no?
Io dico quelle finanziarie, no.
So che hai i capelli neri, che hai una lingua antica mentre la mia è solo liquida.
Spero la tua testa sia piena di numeri.
mercoledì, 12 settembre 2007
La mattina, quando mi sveglio alle sette e mezza, so perfettamente cosa stai facendo, allora vado in bagno e dopo essermi lavata i denti mi attacco alla canna del listerine
per poi uscire dal bagno col mento blu, screpolato, come al solito abbastanza mefistofelica a chiudermi nella cabina armadio:
inventare il personaggio, cover the pig pink breast drunk with her hair longer and longer sticks.
Trace altribunale up Corso Vittorio Emanuele. Via
Calefati to court.
via King David, to a shop that sells socks paul smith.
double parking in front of the theater, I take the theater of the claim settlement centers, libraries, bars, bar Sicily. All
. Everything was mine too, even before. The sun shines on
truncheons, radios on, our teeth on cigarettes.
feel they do not need anything, feel free to bring 90 days after a cross, and instead now as before. As before the accident.
Do not burn the city. Perchè la amo, era mia già da prima.
Non mi commuove più niente.
Non mi ricordo più niente.
Sei come le vacanze che si vincono coi punti del galbanino.
Siamo a livelli di comunicazione che potremmo parlarci in inglese.
Buon giorno buona sera cosa vuoi per pranzo, come stai.
Mangiare, svenire con le tapparelle chiuse.
So perfettamente cosa stai facendo.
Non ho mai più comprato un numero di linus.
Leggiti le recensioni. Regolati su quelle.
Ognuno è stato a sua volta cerapongo di qualcun'altro.
Sto bene come si sta bene ad un tratto.
In quella specie di coma.
Non avere bisogno di altro che wake up, put on lipstick, putting on a uniform comfortable, sprinkled with Bulgarian rose essential, eating different things to eat:
Every now and arms shaking hands ( forgive you), sometimes feel wet the back with flashes of white power , take a shower in the homes of others, back in bed. Feeling guilty.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Gazzoni is a boy full of film and apparently fragile.
Her hair is jet black and his hands filthy women.
arrives panting at our meeting, throw me a bunch of keys in his hand tells me you do, you do I'm just a shit. The extension
his wallet from his pocket at the back of blue pants Emporio Armani, has about 70 € and take them.
spend it on gasoline, drinks and the library where a notebook semirigid and dirty, a copy of the minutes of sale do not know what.
keys will never need them.
As realize it calms down and stops sweating.
car's extension, one by one, from the crevices of my fingers purple silk skirt.
E 'obedient and hypocritically bow.
Some people are happiest when you say no.
For some, the indulgence is not a sign of love.
Amesso something that love centers.
I imagine his face as he questions the boys, while those fingers update their books, I imagine her spotless neck while explaining to a thousand terrified eyes of Adam Smith ( operator intends only His own gain, and he is in this, as in many other cases, led by an invisible hand To Promote an end Which Was not Part Of His intention ).
Who's afraid of someone else, not even have any idea of \u200b\u200bthe fears that petrify it.
Behind the head, from ear to ear, wearing the crown of the fears of many.
Tuesday, September 25 2007
Tuesday, September 25 2007
As you all read this morning, the philosopher Gorz and his wife were killed to prevent either of them to survive ' more.
Vivevno together for 58 years, they had 83 and she was very sick. Greeted friends with letters, as they did everything they wanted.
were the opposite response to the mirror and loving example of Sartre and Simone, have tried to give a practical demonstration of how we can continue to love each other with enthusiasm despite the weather, life, the stresses of knowledge (harmful, amio opinion. Fatali, in most cases).
For a philosopher, should not have been easy. Less easy for me or a man qualunque.Eppure.
and I'm glad I was given a final attempt at this important scientific thought applied to life. I do not think it is a matter of luck, but a real feat of engineering (A. Gorz was a graduate in chemical engineering).
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