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like a fire that hate
but that does not turn out

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THERE'S NO RETURN FROM 86

car, we proceed to the Massachusetts. There's music in the background, as always.

He drives with both hands attached to the steering wheel, his face is serious, deadly serious, so serious look like it was unaware of all that mass of land out there.

"You're a bitch. A bitch. And I've lost all this time I wanted to believe that at least good. Did you know spit in my face all the most terrible words I could not even make you hear me say account of what for me were terrible. Or maybe you did it on purpose. As you said 'I hope you're all right'. But all is well what exactly? All right after you came to tell me about your last fuck included 'thanks for listening,' after I said 'I love you' and I've said 'let's keep in touch'? I hate to waste. Spit on me all those things, but you have in mind that at one point took over the exasperation, that does not remain indifferent to all your stupid things, God knows what I like, but ... I do not want to hear. You're not my friend, you're a bitch! "

He went on that long road. With the background music, king for a day.

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Last post on hill somewhere

this type.

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If the stars do not shine, the moon will not rise if

You are like a land

that nobody has ever said.

You do not wait for anything

if not the word

that pours forth from the bottom

like a fruit from the branches.

There is a wind that comes.

things doubly dead and dried

t'ingombrano and go in the wind

limbs and ancient words.

You tremble in the summer.

Land and death

Cesare Pavese

L 'art will save us, perhaps you will be able to do so. Let us change after a year has passed and the states of mind are always the same, the words are repeated, the heartbeat remained on the same rhythm. Maybe she will probably do well.

I do not ever forget that my heart is an apple, which are so full of crap that is why I am sure to love the .

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I'm losing more more confidence in mankind. In the male then cosmic levels.

E 'it possible that their come to feel a real sense not only by mistake?

No, the fact is that it must be a jinx colossal size hovers over me and my meetings. Whatever happens, the only thing I'm thinking lately is that the only people who still know really love are the actors who recite in the movies or an occasional victim who still has something that burns inside of him. The only world where you can still expect to see a guy you send an embarrassing love letter is one in which you find yourself if you take even a bit of LSD, because otherwise no one seems to have nothing more to say, nothing to prove beyond a warm loving, the heart has become dry land and that love, the true and simple, do not recognize it even more if you place a sign in front as large as the entire United States of America.

It 'disappeared along with poets such as this, who wrote this "Amai trite words that no one / dare. Enchants me the rhyme flower / love / the most difficult part of the ancient world ..."

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It fits oh so I really Perfectly

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lot of dishes to wash and not only


I do not understand anything, I'm just very nervous, more than usual, want to film by Nanni Moretti, want coffee, you want to read Memories of the subsurface . I read a piece and then I looked Taxi Driver, that was put in one of those charts that people like to do-absolutely useless the rest of the forty-seventh-place of the best movies in film history and so on some also by Martin Scorsese and De Niro and everyone, but if it were not for these pages Scorsese and De Niro would not could do just anything.

"... Behold, a man so naturally I consider him a real man, normal, like he meant the most tender of mothers, nature, who has lovingly given birth. Such a man, I envy him to the transfer of bile. Certainly it is a stupid, do not discuss, but maybe just a normal man must be stupid, do you know that? Maybe this is also nice. And my suspicion is based more so if I consider, for example, 'antithesis normal man, the one that has a strong conscience, of course, a still born, not from the womb of nature, this man who still graze in front of his antithesis to the point considered, honestly, with his strong conscience, and a mouse not a man. Though a conscious rat vigorously, but still a rat in front of a man, and so ...

The fact is that he considers himself a mouse, do not nobody calls him, and therein lies the point. Let's look at this mouse in action. Suppose that he has been injured (almost always happens) and that he feels like revenge. Perhaps he builds up more anger in ' Homme de la nature et de la verité , a disgusting, pathetic desire to return the insult with the same anger, indeed rage gnaw at the soul which is worse' Homme de la nature et de la verité, because the ' Homme de la nature et de la verité, for his innate stupidity considers his revenge simply an act of justice, and the rat because of strong conscience Justice denies this. Get to the end time for revenge. The poor mouse, in addition to their original ugliness, he was able to amass around him thanks to his strong conscience, a number of other ugliness: a problem leads to an infinite number of unresolved problems so that gathers around without the desire a deadly mire, made a stinking mire of his doubts, his hesitations, and spit upon him that pulling spontaneous and active men, who surrounded him solemnly, disguised as judges and dictators, that he's laughing out loud. Clearly he does not care about all that remains, with a wave of foot and with a grin of contempt which is the first not to believe, and indecorously crawl into his hole. There, in his filthy, stinking ground our mouse offended, mocked and beaten is immersed in a cold, poisonous and what is worse, unquenchable anger. Remember the forty consecutive offenses, until the last, most shameful details that each time will add even more shameful details of her getting excited and exasperated with the fantasy. It will be the first to be ashamed of his vision, and yet everything back to memory, unwind all inventing things never happened under the pretext that they would not have happened and will forgive nothing. Maybe even start to take revenge, but at times, slightly hidden behind the stove, incognito, I do not believe in their own right to retaliate, nor in the success of its revenge, and knowing in advance that all his attempts at revenge will suffer from one hundred times more than those who must suffer the vengeance, of which not even s'accorgerà. And even on his deathbed remember anything with all the interest accumulated over time, e. .. But here, in this very cold, and disgusting semidisperazione semifede, in this forty-year burial aware of himself, still alive in underground because of his torment, in this hopeless situation created intentionally, yet constantly challenged, in all this venom unfulfilled desires that came in, in all this feverish indecision between irrevocable decisions and sudden repentance, is enclosed the juice of the strange thrill that I mentioned. It 's so thin, sometimes eludes the consciousness that people hardly limited or even, simply, people with nerves of steel would know to grasp even a hint [...] do not understand the rarity of such a thrill. These gentlemen, in some cases, for example, although bellow like bulls, explained in his throat, in front of an obstacle, and although this may be very noble of them, well let's face it, though, as I said, calm down immediately. The obstacle, namely the stone wall? What stone wall? Well, of course, the laws of nature, the data of the natural sciences, mathematics. Already, q hen you show that you are descended from the apes there is nothing to frown, accept things as they are . [...]

Lord God that I do, I will, the laws of nature and arithmetic if these laws and two-for-2:00 to 4:00 I wonder why I do not like? Of course, I will not attempt to tear down the wall with the front if in fact I will not have the strength to do it, but only because I do not even acquieterò I'm facing a wall and I do not have enough energy to bring it down.

as if a humble stone wall could actually settle down and perhaps enclose a message of peace because only two times two make four. Supreme idiocy! So much is understood, be aware of everything, all the impossibilities and all the stone walls, and not to give in to any of those impossibilities and stone walls of these repugnant if you resign, and get through the most stringent logic operations to revolting conclusions on the eternal theme that even the stone wall you are the culprit, although it is evident that you are not at all and, consequently, in shrunken ' inertia, with the idea that you can also black but there is no one to blame, that the case is not and perhaps will never be found, that there's a replacement, a misrepresentation, a fraud, that here is simply a concoction, not you know what and who knows who, but despite all these impossibilities, and all these misrepresentations, you're evil and, at least you know, the more you're sick. "

Amen.

is thus was born Travis Bickle. What then is Curiously enough, because just a few days before reading these pages I was discussing with my mother. We were in the car and talked about religion, it is one thing that I like to do especially with my mother because she is a Christian convinced grown to church and catechism in a sense, but at the same time take full account of everything that I say, on the contrary, I have a small semi-atheist or an atheist or at least still be looking for something and who does not believe exactly the Bible, well I should, in short, that always creates a nice contrast and I remember exactly what he was talking about folklore, then I said something like, "Yes, yes, folklore, like the stories told in the Bible!" You are a little upset I replied: "So you're thoroughly convinced that all those stories are only legends invented?". "Of course, scientific discoveries have destroyed brick by brick, the whole edifice of religion, if you show that descend from the apes you can not do anything, you have to accept it. "

And then a few days later I found written in the subsoil Memories, I love these little coincidences, I do think sometimes that maybe my pseudo-atheism knows a few moments failure.

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wrong, I'm wrong. It 's the point. Then I registered my psychoanalysis, saying things, things, random things mostly. This is not anything special, but

oh ... if I were able to keep calm of those Tibetan monks, if I can be like them.

would be much better.

not be caught by certain little things, by certain miseriucce , let go everything, everything, free as a hawk in the sky, like a Tibetan Monaco praying to the one in which he believes is different from what we believe here in the West, because the West is ill.

As it would be better not to do these little mistakes. I do not leave more infoiati from things that others complain, I will not let me touch. I would walk my way, oh how nice it would, no, heavenly, I go on my way that I do not know what it is, for the time lying in bed for most of the day, and films by Nanni Megavideo Moretti goes on sale, turn to Rome, and I want to know how to dance makes me laugh.

Hello.

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I think I could live in every city in the world and I think that there are an infinite number of the most beautiful cities-even some very very very best-in Milan, she remains the same ' one great love. She is the one I like more, she and her many faces. Dirty just like out of a basement memory, but with some moments of poetry that some days they leave you breathless. Frantic and nauseating as the mind of a deranged and so peacefully in his eternal palaces whose memory fades in the channel at that time and its courtyards, hidden and aristocrats. Lost among the garbage and beauty anachronistic, is the only place that when I can really call home , a giant great contrast and a half million people who vaguely seems to understand who they are.

Beer columns in a fragrant spring evening and a ride in a ring between the fumes of smog. Milan, Milan, Milan. And the ship of Martesana ...

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Roses in the wild 'berries and hibiscus

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"You know, I feel a little bit in Anglo-Saxon"

she said, sipping a glass of good Italian wine after having expressed a preference for beer.

"You know, I wish you, you were my sun," she said

and after a while he felt some jack ass.

"You know, I wish that after all the distances are not meant anything," said

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"You know, I know when the exact moment you fell in love with a person, because that moment is small, it can be overcome, what comes after, oh no, not that, then it's worse than wanting to turn water into wine, we are not Jesus and Jesus still comes to help us in any way. "

always told her.

"You know, I think you should also stop anxiety and distress"

he said, after he found not so much a pretty brunette in toying with.

Pay pledge, for some reason. Pay pledge and is devoured by envy, no, that envy, a sense of profound injustice. That there.

That there has not spent all those days locked up at home to damn the soul, yet.

It is evident that Chekhov was right, but makes no difference?!

Wine. White Wine.