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nausea or how we should always come to terms with themselves ...

ON AIR: silence, only silence
I want to tell a story, a beautiful story.
The other day I broke something in here. Inside me, I mean. No, not that you have disappointed me. I can not be disappointed. I have been disappointed so many times, and how much bigger I own: my life, or perhaps life in general. Therefore it can not happen: no one and nothing can surpass the horror, not even equate to arrive. Not even you. So no, you did not disappoint. But I broke something inside, and now I find the pieces around the body pieces are sharp, my body is desperately trying to put back together. Or maybe just somatization, somatization for what they are: coconut, exactly. But it is not easy. They move inside me, roam freely: when should I eat my stomach tightening, when I think m'incanalano mind in one direction when I need to sleep kept me close my eyes. But they are the pieces of my love, the love I have for you. Love does not wear out and not even scratch: those are crap, crap for people who can not universalize your own mediocrity. Therefore I do not even think to do without you. Why do not eliminate the problem that is definitely true: you are not a tooth and you're not a gangrenous limb. Can not delete: it would be as if I had a bad heart and decide to let me grub. To deprive of the heart. We can not and you know it: I can not breathe in your absence and you can not breathe. The silence, yes, but not absence. Your absence, I do not even come to think. So I can not do anything but fight every day for several days: fighting furiously to save us. I
. I wish you called me tomorrow and tell me: "I'm coming to you."
I could not believe it: "What do you mean?".
"It means I'm here. What I came to you. Because I've been too afraid to lose you," you would say with that half smile drew clear in his voice.
"Are you kidding?" I replied. You
you laugh, "No".
"Oh my god" biaschicherei and then he asks: "Where are you?".
"At the station, which by the way is a horrible place." I
broken voice: "I come to get away. And then you lick the wounds."

An eternal embrace.

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An ocean of silence ...

rare in the lives of two
made slight gestures of affection and
day
substantial or not must move


as guests filled with caring and sensitive

not Disturb.



And it is certain that looks
you see infinity.



clash
cars as the roads are
angry bison prairie skyscrapers next to
sunny. How can we keep hidden


our understanding.



And it is certain that looks
you see infinity.



whole universe obeys love.
How can you keep a secret love.
And so it is that holds us in its chains.
whole universe obeys love.



How can we keep hidden

our understanding.



And it is in certain looks
that hides the infinite.



whole universe obeys love. How
you can keep a secret love.
And so it is that holds us in its chains.
whole universe obeys
love [love obeys].

whole universe obeys the love , Franco Battiato feat. Carmen Consoli

will protect you from the fears of hypochondria
from disturbances that will meet today for your street.
injustices and deceptions of your time,
from the failures that will attract your nature.
will relieve you from pain and your mood swings,
the obsessions of your delusions.
overcome the gravitational currents,

space and light so you do not grow old.
And heal all diseases.
because you're a special
and I will take care of you.



I was wandering the fields of Tennessee
[how I got there, who knows?].
not have white flowers for me?
Faster than eagles

my dreams across the sea.




'll take you above the silence and patience.
walk together through the streets that lead to the essence.
I love scents intoxicate our bodies,
the calm of August will not calm our senses.
weave your hair like the plot of a song.

know the laws of the world and I'll offer them.
overcome the gravitational currents,

space and light so you do not grow old.

I'll save you from any melancholy.
because you're a special
and I will take care of you.
I will take care of you.

care , Franco Battiato

This is love.

I feel so small.

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still exists, but I'm not sure to want to make part of the world ...

ON AIR: White Winter Hymnal, Fleet Foxes

I do not want to write . It makes no sense that I write because I have nothing original or interesting to say the least. Do not bother me more the idea that the world could get me and I do not like to tell - more or less detailed or more or less poetic, more or less attractive - what's going on in my life. The truth is that now I'm somewhere else, some A world where you do not want to dissect every tiniest feeling or just the beginning of a bad mood. Or maybe it's just not sympathetic, I try in every way - every day - to feel and be real. REAL. Enough with the emotional amplification, the delirious monologues, speeches all internal to my head, then those who have no sense when compared to the reality of human relationships. Enough of me that I lean on the edge of a cliff that is not there, I want to see below me for not having to admit that the norm exists and, instead, there is no obligation to be exceptional. What is exceptional even when you think about what to cook for dinner, without having to blurt out everywhere, wearing blood-stained shroud and crown of thorns. I am so exceptional that I am not ashamed at all to be normal. Wonderfully normal.

This does not mean that I will write more. And it shows that I'm writing now, despite everything. It 's just that I'm trying to grow up, while trying to graduate by April, to prepare the final three exams and survive in a city of shit which is Rome. Especially when it rains.

Tonight I have not slept, I woke up at dawn, went out with a thunderstorm in progress and it took me an hour and a half to travel the route from home to university, that is 3 or 4 km. By bus. I arrived and I read a huge ad on the front door: ALL POLITICAL SCIENCE LESSONS TO BE SUSPENDED FOR THE SUDDEN DEATH OF PROF. Massimo Baldini. I had the wish to break through the glass door tested. And yes I had to wade through a couple of lakes arose in the night and fight with a dozen people on the tram and abolish the principle of fainting due to the lack of air in the bus ... but then it really true that it must always be the best. It is not to be trivial, really, but this man was a wonderful human being, a very good prof. Theory of Semiotics and techniques of journalistic language and an Associate Dean with all the attributes of the case. And he spoke divinely. So I'm sorry sincerely and death makes me more sick. In addition to fear, of course. Blind terror, indeed.

What else? I have to go in the Secretariat, go home and then wade back a couple of new lakes, new training, wash your hair, change the sheets, sleep, eat, study Macroeconomics, do the exercises in German, shopping, eating, sleeping, stop smoking. And wait for tomorrow, tomorrow afternoon, because until then you'll see.

year like Christmas, so reckless, almost frantic. I need trees, colored balls, lights, wrapping paper, bows and advertising reassuring. I do not give a fucking nothing to what it's all materialistic or spiritual or put little or insansato: I want to be frivolous. I was not too long and I have to take a pause for reflection by me that someone wanted me. So Christmas is well and welcome even the New Year, because this time I'll be with you and not spend thinking about how much I dislike the human race will be two to think about it, and be less sad.

There's nothing I want at the moment, but to continue to make love with you. Repeatedly. It is enough.

And I turn round and there you go.

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Infected Mushroom - Muse Breaks (rmx Santo)

What is this? For me it moooooooolto ahead! : D
Nice trance!