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Spend the holidays, mocked the saint, I return briefly to rectify some nius.
- by the end of August, sfidanzato: sad, corn c'est la vie. It starts to make the cows, waiting for Mr. Right arrives;

- Changed job, found a place very very much: very human leaders (and gay), connects the beautiful shining always with a smile, work hard, but satisfying. And a kitchen at my disposal: P

- Former head of the past for trade unions, dropped pennies, I enjoyed like a hedgehog;

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Crystalline dark Cradle and bed waiting

What separates me from the stars?
looked sharp,
a sharp glass.
blasting, black.

What else can I do if not all of them
see in the reflection of the sun, moon,
light, imagining them in black

deep of your eyes? In the dark crystal

I remained at least the dream
to see you and touch.

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I'm lying down and feel the sun and the wind
I run down her cheeks.
Surrounded by peace, by peace, salt
a pulsing deep
a latent demand,

a distant echo of fear and pleasure, joy and trembling
,
a fate that might be accomplished.
My stomach, for a time.
There is peace and quiet,
and is easy to forget, it's easy to hope

and dive into the sensuality of the wind.
E 'futile thinking
inevitable fallen leaf, the new future
autumn.
I will give life, love!
And what will be. My belly
rhythmic
lives and already the dream world,
cot and bedding for all of us.

strange story, this set ... maybe I will tell sooner or later XD

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And I was the giant,

I thought, you did

mooring,

a flower waiting to be caught.

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terrorism red and black

"killed why? For the dream of a group of enthusiasts who were playing to make the revolution, the illusion of being chosen souls, beautiful souls voted for a noble utopia without realizing that the real" sons of the people " as he called them Pasolini was on the other hand, were the targets of their stupid folly. "

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Canto Women's Light Sweet lightning

It 's a great light, there.
A pearl in the sky, as
earring, or ring that is offered in

gift to look smart for Women.

There are so many small lights over there.
It 's like for me, special nights, like this
,
when the pearl in the sky appears to be shrouded

far from mother of pearl vague clouds
you to make you beautiful,
dress with a bright,
as a cascade of broken stones,
relaxed, placid sly, ronfante.

Hugs eyes of one who is close to me lost
or who I cross walk on the grass.
seem greedy and malicious,
but you're too much for me.
Too big, bright, rich and bright florida
to be satisfied by my eye without my hopes.

Maybe pretend. Maybe you're cursed
another temptress, who wants

stunned and make us forget the blood pulsing two fingers under the ground, crying
a wire under the skin.
But I do not know what you are.
maybe better, maybe it's just that I

be lost along your mirage
your treasure in diamonds.

Whisper, whisper again, please ...
"Little boy, let it be
my old stone, do not get
ages from dizziness
looking into my great pleasures.
Maybe I dream, maybe mirage
temptation or perhaps a moment of joy.
I am the one that I must be.
'm all in every moment, I am
what they see for yourself.
You decide what are or are not,
you decide whether or not ".

And maybe his head is tired
and soul background for too many dreams,
beats, rhythms and strong,
down there, in the ankle .
The night will end.
The Pearl will disappear as a gift, not learned.

close my eyes and become the dew.

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A thrill, a thrill was
.
walked
air and exhaust
sweet lightning
through my nerves,
down my back.
turned his eyes around, hugged
reflections on

drops left on the first leaves.
It was a thrill, a thrill
only. Unexplained
, or perhaps
deliberately kept hidden from me
me.
was just a thrill, or perhaps a flicker of
dream?
It 's a dream?

was only a minute and again, I do not know why,
my world again became
only stars.

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Kiss

We kissed.
I drew with my left hand towards me by his side. The right hand rested, with his fingers to his itnrecciate, the rough, ancient stone parapet of the riverside trees overlooking the placid flow of the river full of earth.
kiss was a placid, something expected, the known and expected. A kiss long and intense, quiet. A kiss sad, already full of nostalgia.
was a kiss with the taste of regret in mind in the mouth, tongue fixed at that point where you feel stronger the bitterness. We knew
. After that kiss, there was only silence. What words would be used? It was already instilled in us the resignation.
That moment was the culmination of a little fun, a little mad sometimes necessary.
eyes closed, remove all distractions. The thought invaded by the fluid stream of sensations. The humidity of vents, the hot breath like a wind that came out of the nostrils, the contrast between the rugged rock of the old square and the subtle softness of his fingers painted nails of a brown color too weird pr have a name. The city
snoring monotonous and calm. His rumbling mingled with the little roll of the water.
The wind rustled the leaves.

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Dialogue from the balcony

Again, again,
winked at me from up there, Luna.
I am always here, I have always
,
from this balcony,
on these roads.
lured me, tempt me,
like a slut, but I
incite, push me,
as a friend.
Where to?
I have a table, chairs, books, music
glasses and bottles. Elsewhere
can not stay, as
is prohibited. I
you look bad, I
is ignored. Instead of me

stars shine on the eye reflexes
of wealth out of reach.
hopeless, I say.
I have my own, I must suffice.
But how many times I blow it to hell
and grabbed what I denied.
you take hold of, Moon, and gemerai in my hands. However

Hoping not to be found only air between my fingers sweat

after waking from a restless sleep.

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"I dreamed so hard that I went out the blood from his nose"

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Drop splendor

Recently I found myself listening to "Anime Salve". And 'the last album of unreleased Fabrizio de Andre (1996).
seems the departure of De Andrè in the world, as a harbinger of the end. But not a final farewell, happy, a goodbye. His family, his wife and children, many old and new friends accompany him on this musical procession to the point where he must go alone. "Oversized prayer" is the perfect conclusion of a musical and poetic journey incredible. It 'a prayer for us all, as huge as is the enormous size of humanity.
Because we all have our "Drop of Splendor."

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was certainly not relaxing.
I did not have to stand in my way of thinking about something.
But certainly it was something incredible and conclusive.

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Please winter

As usual, in mid-summer comes a need to bully other climates.
A strange contrast, which arises in me: the need to summer heat, the fields full of green and turns with the dog to steal more, and a need for cold, rain and ice days, and heavy coats and long dresses. This
.. casino can also be an expression of my mood ... Chaos. Strange. different from anything ever experienced. Of course, there is an explanation simple, and I do not deny me for sure. My mother would call "Paturnie adolescent", and would be right. I thought only of already being out. Apparently it's still a long way to go.
Vabbuò, time will tell. And with time you will also know what I do.

Sometimes you do crazy things. It 's a need, with a push that comes directly from the solar plexus and that drags you forward, and you find yourself, perhaps, five hundred miles from home, waiting by a fountain placed in waiting for a big step that could destroy or change you life.
There are many things that move and do not find relief in these infinite spaces filled with boundaries and limits, it is impossible cross in one go.
sometimes comes that old dream: a pair of wings, a different life, a miracle, another me.
I entrust again to the pen, apparently. And wait, waiting for something that who knows when he comes, if it is.

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The Eagle will fly again but fuck

Dear reader, how long ...
is more than a month since I write here, and in the meantime things will have happened. The biggest, the earthquake in L'Aquila. From Half-Blood
Abruzzo (Peligna, to be precise), the sadness has been immense, and even more anger and pride.
sadness for those poor bastards who have remained under the rubble for the dead to their families for the loss they have suffered.
Anger, because as always in Italy could have been avoided so many tragedies, because this tragedy could be avoided. Because the pain is Lipizzaner been ridden like a parade of politicians size small, medium and large in all television and all over the papers. Why so many people around this region is narrow and unfortunate as there fair forced, once again, as in Friuli, Irpinia, the Polesine. Why do so many others have had the courage to joke about almost 300 deaths, has made jokes, took the opportunity to laugh about. A rage that knows no boundaries, and that as a good Abruzzo hardly allow me to forgive, and certainly not forgotten.
Pride, to see a rugby union fuck rubble and lend a hand to save an old woman - oxygen tank included - and realize that yes, who has absorbed a certain mentality is made of a different pasta, ass mentality Italiot! The pride of seeing people demure, shy, you cried and mourned its dead on his own, and that still has the strength to tell reporters "go somewhere else." The pride of knowing that the Eagle will resume flying, my people will not surrender.

And I would say to the various journalistic morons, ecclesiastical, and government policies in general that kept their hairy begging, their polemics from jackals, their ideas of grandeur on the skin of the people, their new town from Beverly Hills : does not serve the dead, they need to live, you just need to face your shit to make you beautiful.

The mountains of L'Aquila, Sulmona, Avezzano, I have kept away for centuries. Let's hope once again their work, and leave through only those who have respect for this land, who has respect for these people, who enters on tiptoe, and lends a hand, without adding comments.

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vah!

Dear me,
this blog is increasingly taking on the contours of a particular angle of the vents.

Ok, I'm frustrated, I know.

But come on, not just me to be mentally unstable ... admit (admit, that, dear reader) that a minimum of reason I have it. Let me explain.
I'm 28 years old, I graduated (five years under the old system, then a serious degree) in 2004, and already worked for more than a couple of years. From 4 years working in a translation agency where the most you can hope for is a project contract with a salary that would - at most - not to starve.
I live in a country where everything seems to go down: the thieves are in parliament, the starving are humiliated and - possibly - harassed by every possible means, review the science and religion is a certainty. In short, a country of shit, in so many ways.

Looking TG or reading the newspapers, the anger can only increase, and certainly not to blame the economic crisis. Increases because there is no news that is one, not a fact, not a record: just talk. The minister said, the shadow minister replied, the spokesman denied this, confirming the concierge ... A final ruling? Review. The delusion of a senator award prosecuted and sentenced in a final? Certainty. The work of a magistrate (submitted, by law, a review of the substance in the second degree of discretion, and judicial review in the third degree)? Political persecution. A senator convicted of criminal association and at least a dozen accused in criminal proceedings? A persecuted.
A journalist dares to tell a fact, document line by line? It 'a dirty perverts reality. A former journalist became powerful round of ass-licker says an opinion? It 's a fine connoisseur of political reality.

level drops, switching to daily life, things are not so much the better. From the hosannas that connects
Alitalia flight attendant went to Big Brother ("did well, took the opportunity, I would have done the same thing"), the administrator of a company that - with zero investment - a claim growth of 30% in one year, with the excuse that the industry "is not affected by the crisis" ...
Not to mention the fact that guilt is never anyone from the boy who took part in the atrocity on the unemployed to set fire to Neptune, to the Regional Lombard Environment and Protection of Natural Resources, which - ordered by the TAR to demolish illegal villas 2 - still says "I made an error of assessment". All innocent.

And all happy to take him in the ass

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when the brain is on vacation

Dear readers, namely
dear me, as I drank coffee on television recently aired a great cultural debate of high profile, distinguished guests and competent, on .. . horoscope! It seems that short
Santaromanachiesa is annoyed by the omnipresence of the horoscope in Italian TV, accused of vulgar superstition and false idolatry.

In other words: a basket of snails from the horned ass!

Ben looked at me from defending the horoscope, astrology, and any other form of idiocy stellar. But that is just nonsense to accuse this church, I am a bit 'funny.
At this point, fire-proof.

Lately, for professional reasons, I'm very interesting leggiucchiando various materials, ranging from the Bible to the Gospels, the writings of the Fathers of the Church to the greatest philosophers of the last 2500 years. And I never laughed so much in my life.
But this is much laughter, much love: on the basis of those rumors, those stories, those stories - some of which are credible as the ravings of a drunk Tavernello - were decided the fate of millions, probably billions of people in the history of Western civilization.
Indigenous peoples of North and South Africans, Europeans and even the non-believers or "different" than the precepts of Santaromanachiesa, in fact, have fueled fires, oiled and perfumed the air fields with their bodies, just for not having believed in "the mysteries of faith" which the immaculate conception, papal infallibility, the value of miracles, or shit is good and beautiful as donations to the church by emperors and kings. Thousands of years of power built on nothing, about something that is unprovable, and even - according to those in power - did not need to be demonstrated. Crazy stuff!
The promise of an afterlife is still oil on the fire of real pyres on which you are sacrificing thousands of Muslims, Christians, of Hindus, and who knows how many others around the world. When you see the poor wretches who are ready to blow themselves up, to be massacred, losing family, freedom and everything in the name of a god or a religious doctrine, we should stop and take a step back.
But no, he insists, waving religious precepts, giving pearls of wisdom drawn from Bible stories - written by whom, when, how, we do not know - and it continues to deceive, to deceive, and kill.
be clear, I do not have only the Catholic Church, or Christianity in particular. I have it with all those doctrines that impose more or less violent or subtle, life choices that exclude freedom of thought. When I see a woman with a burqa, or a man who twists his mouth in front of a condom, or someone who is horrified in front of a butcher, I feel an immense despair. Why are we still in the "third millennium" (but in fact the millennia of civilization - or soi-disant this - there are many more), ignorance and superstition still rule. We have seen this before
choices of conscience, as well as in everyday life: abortion referendum on assisted procreation, hysterical reactions to an Islamic prayer in front of a church, or a rosary said in front of a mosque. Guys, wake up: it is as if one is in front of a scaccolasse Caravaggio painting. It will not be chic, but no one will call upon the gallows for this. That, and this should be on everyone's mind, the value of a gesture, a symbol, habit, and it is ridiculous that even today there are those who argue the opposite, relying on two pieces of wood arranged perpendicular to a value who did not. A cross, in itself, does not mean anything. The moral advice by Jesus, already would be worth something. But never fear: the church has done everything to push them into a corner from which it probably will not ever come out.
So why do not we begin, once and for all, to think about serious things and give them faith, hope in life after death and the ethical considerations conscience of each, and the private sphere?
In our capacity as human beings we have no way to reason and think of something better and more useful to us all. We would not even have to behave more like wild beasts in the wild, thanks to technological and scientific advances, and yet - with all our luggage quite moral, ethical and religious - continue to live in this fucked up part of the world at the expense of billions of poor bastards The vast majority of the planet.
That 's what the religion teaches us? Well. So live your horoscope! Or I know, living Aspirin (NSAIDs have no other outside of me, except Aulin; not want the pad to others; honors the blister and carton, do not chew; do not tell falsehoods about Bayer, etc., etc. ... precepts are nice, eh?)!
Let us realize that a lot of bullshit, bullshit that we cling to mask our ignorance about the nature, the universe and its origins, about the future and the present. Comfy palliatives which allow us to save time and energy by not thinking. And Realize above all that these superstitions are costing us very, very expensive!