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between an escort and a villa

Post polemical (as usual). I say someone has petrol in the last two or three weeks? I follow the news (mainly to LA7), listen to the press (to the front page of Radio Three), I read several newspapers (and usually to work on the Internet) but I have not noticed anyone, repeat anyone, who has made a case as the price of gasoline has risen. If, from time to time, between Ruby, an Iris, a villa in Monte Carlo Nicole and someone is also interested in the banal banal problems we Italians would perhaps his most sacred duty. No?

[photo by siamesesam ]

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Marea

The sky is nothing but a sea upside down. Water is a mother who saves you from gravity and deletes the indelible mark of death. First of all birth and rebirth, before learning the breath, we learn to fly. We should learn to see those transparent wings which, from birth, everyone is in place. Closing my eyes, in an instant, the darkness will no longer be so scared, but will open a universe of constellations of ideas and thoughts free, infinite. Join us in the eternal. Maybe that's what distinguishes us from animals: the complete freedom of our minds. Schools of thoughts that we are not free to run loose and beyond human, like the tides go beyond the blue, so we can overcome every fear and every limit. Any thoughts intermittent shines like a star. We leave the dark all fear and the light will not make us more harm.

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"I speak with you in my head, always

.. nothing more true

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I love you and miss you

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On Truth and other trappings

How many eyes do you see? And how many heads? And mouths? Here we go. This is exactly the number of possible truth. One for each, roughly. The truth is no man's land. This is the land of all. Matter of mongrel mixture between what is and what we think, say, imagine, supposed to be. The gradient is uncertain. For what little it's worth I do not trust those who proclaims himself the depositary of the absolute truth, especially if he does so from a distance, attached to a telephone and spitting venom and insults about who has the right to think more.

[photo by siamesesam ]

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In a bubble

leave, to start from scratch and have another life was a thought that often danced in my mind. I breathed the air that was to swallow the idea and to get rid of that image every day I went back in front made me feel lighter. I was determined. I had to leave. Here's to nostalgia and it was made. I took my old blanket of velvet and I went to bed, to rest my dreams.
These were my thoughts while I was enveloped in the soft blanket of velvet, or maybe they are the ones that allow me to sleep every night. Peaceful sleep, such as thin boundary a soap bubble. I protect my real choices. With the first breath to wake up all becomes clear, the bubble burst with the wind in the morning. You can not leave everything. As every morning I accept my life: work and discussions with her, her. I agree to stay because they are unable to leave.
I'd like to live the dream of a soap bubble, happy to dance in the air for a few seconds, Free. But the reality is the nightmare of a dog chasing its tail or a rabbit farm who lives in a cage. I'd like to be a nomadic aimlessly, without a passport, without name, without purpose, without the white walls around him.

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Night - Elie Wiesel

Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has made my life a long night and boarded up for seven times.

Never shall I forget that smoke.
Never shall I forget the little faces of children whose bodies I saw turned into wreaths of smoke beneath a silent sky.
Never shall I forget those flames which consumed my faith forever.
Never shall I forget that nocturnal silence which I took off for ever the desire to live.
Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and my dreams, who took the face of the desert.
Never shall I forget everything, even if I were condemned to live as God Himself. Never.

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First Person Plural

I'm learning all over again the sense of you and me. I live like half fraction invariant of a double. The extended portion of gestures, care and meaning for me now rejoices and illuminates. There is no longer a space next door, but a presence that imbues sharing and expected to translate into embrace. Not the red-hot skin, stripping the soul, no conscience tears. It 's the pure sense of being, will that becomes bread and snow, the courage not to fear the collision of a celestial "I love you" that without getting lost and without guilt.

[photo by hyppotomatus ]

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I'm real

What Is Meaning Of Mleyu

Meeting

I met him in a square. Walking without realizing where my feet going, contact with a hot nose tore me from my thoughts. And I just walked. Wags his tail slowly, as eternal as the square, both ageless.
was happy, I felt. It became my emotion: smiles. I stroked. He slowly and silently walked away from me coming up to a bench and crouched down.
was a simple greeting, a simple and enjoyable encounter.
Maybe we should all be like him, give and not expect to have, to trust without fear: these are my thoughts turned into words, spoken to him out loud.
He looked at me with tenderness, and thus explained most than I had told him the words.
- A friend instill what you do? - I exclaimed aloud. Making the sign face walked into a marble fountain, across the square.
My eyes follow his movements slow and calm, my friend looked ageless away more and more. It disappeared behind a corner. I stopped a moment to observe the point at which it disappeared, having fun to imagine her wandering.
walked on. In the mind the memory of a humble meeting, a brief exchange of glances, a small gesture of affection, without pretension.

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Road

with your foot on the accelerator a breath of ocher clouds rose in the air. Sand and dust dancing in a warm embrace. His heart pounding to the rhythm of the engine. If he could taste his own blood would have been like spicy chili garlic sauce. She felt wrapped in an ecstasy of pleasure and excitement. More felt that sound vibrates in the air more adrenaline saliva. The route was the same as it was a boy, sniffing the air as if to eat it and that fruity him back in time. The radio would send the Eagles' Hotel California and the road ran fast, so the first crossing took a new, different, mai fatta. Il passato non gli interessava più ormai. Era una vecchia ustione sul suo corpo, ormai cicatrizzata, guarita. Quel suo viaggio era come una doccia rinfrescante di libertà dopo tanto tempo ed esaltò il momento con un grido liberatorio. Finalmente sentiva la vita.