There is no real reason I'm at the keyboard now, should not there be one that pushes me to finally open this lj.
In reality there.
that traveling will always change his skin, discover - or fail to take the train for years, or the air cleared.
The subtle disquiet. The constant chatter of people
of apocalyptic prophecies Maia sull'eruzione the volcano in Iceland!
Or perhaps, take the train alone after year, even if for half an hour. What was missing
see the landscape under the sun and run behind a dirty glass?
Or maybe the 12 hour bus, a slow descent that leaves room for thought allowing him to breathe deeply, to do some 'bad.
In fact, I feel stronger, it took a course in which I can not speak, a lovely town, Ticino and a covered bridge. Wonderful people and positive people running around the clock. It took
Cla.
living there for four months. Oh dear.
Nothing was strange to see it as a move to Pavia, focused on the brain as a foreign object to the place as I was. Almost asked her how she know the roads, not to look around, not surprising for the huge fir trees, so different from our palms.
stupid.
Even more alienating was seeing in his home * * and not our , see you at ease as if reaching up on our bed and not on the small, attached to the wall of a room for two, which is typical for students off-site ... or for two persons!
the remainder of his roommates are good. A vaguely anti-social, the other very nice, keeps an eye on and the wand as you would an older sister. is this enough to earn my eternal love.
And then, to know his friends, the faces of those who live in the minutes and days that I lose, arms and shoulders close while I am away. And it was uncomfortable
then be confused with her from them, and it was strange, maybe just because I happened to be a bit '. There was
the same Claudia, a reflection, almost a game.
a joke.
be because it is not a neutral territory where both exist in Pavia there is only you, At home we are the same, I am there to be like her, I'm the one in the mirror.
Reflection.
It does not really too bad.
PS
Unnecessary lj from now on is open. ^ ^ A witness who
: gastroenteritis can survive. ^ ^ PPS
The idiot is now presented with a gift, "The weight of the butterfly Erri De Luca, so it seemed less idiotic than usual.
(I'll make a post just him afterwards, just to insult him publicly and analyze their behavior primitive-idiots. The idiot obviously, De Luca. ^ ^)
PS (cubed) The title is
taken from a poem by Neruda. ^ ^ And it reminds
something deep, past that I can not grasp.
For now stands there, waiting for an epiphany. ^ ^
In reality there.
that traveling will always change his skin, discover - or fail to take the train for years, or the air cleared.
The subtle disquiet. The constant chatter of people
of apocalyptic prophecies Maia sull'eruzione the volcano in Iceland!
Or perhaps, take the train alone after year, even if for half an hour. What was missing
see the landscape under the sun and run behind a dirty glass?
Or maybe the 12 hour bus, a slow descent that leaves room for thought allowing him to breathe deeply, to do some 'bad.
In fact, I feel stronger, it took a course in which I can not speak, a lovely town, Ticino and a covered bridge. Wonderful people and positive people running around the clock. It took
Cla.
living there for four months. Oh dear.
Nothing was strange to see it as a move to Pavia, focused on the brain as a foreign object to the place as I was. Almost asked her how she know the roads, not to look around, not surprising for the huge fir trees, so different from our palms.
stupid.
Even more alienating was seeing in his home * * and not our , see you at ease as if reaching up on our bed and not on the small, attached to the wall of a room for two, which is typical for students off-site ... or for two persons!
the remainder of his roommates are good. A vaguely anti-social, the other very nice, keeps an eye on and the wand as you would an older sister. is this enough to earn my eternal love.
And then, to know his friends, the faces of those who live in the minutes and days that I lose, arms and shoulders close while I am away. And it was uncomfortable
then be confused with her from them, and it was strange, maybe just because I happened to be a bit '. There was
the same Claudia, a reflection, almost a game.
a joke.
be because it is not a neutral territory where both exist in Pavia there is only you, At home we are the same, I am there to be like her, I'm the one in the mirror.
Reflection.
It does not really too bad.
PS
Unnecessary lj from now on is open. ^ ^ A witness who
: gastroenteritis can survive. ^ ^ PPS
The idiot is now presented with a gift, "The weight of the butterfly Erri De Luca, so it seemed less idiotic than usual.
(I'll make a post just him afterwards, just to insult him publicly and analyze their behavior primitive-idiots. The idiot obviously, De Luca. ^ ^)
PS (cubed) The title is
taken from a poem by Neruda. ^ ^ And it reminds
something deep, past that I can not grasp.
For now stands there, waiting for an epiphany. ^ ^
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