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REMEMBER Midsummer

This morning in Rome gets really cold.
No matter how many degrees. These are things you just have to believe. At eight o'clock in the morning

Trastevere is deserted. Now, what I wonder obsessively until they arrive at work: people really can not afford to leave home just because it's cold?
In the sense that I can not and therefore do not understand how other people can do it.

Which is what I also wonder on Monday evening when, always Trastevere is full of people.
Lu-ne-evening. The question is disarming: "But people do not make a fucking morning?".
No, because I do so ... reasoning as above. However
. The

Frost reminded me of a day spent with Clare in Ostia this summer while we were waiting to see materialize before our eyes "The Holiday" (entity astratta.eravamo too disheartened by now).

Here the faithful reportage.

any one day in July.
not in any place: Ostia, Capocotta, between Gates and Torvaianica.

squatting on my towel, I look at Clare, from my perspective horizontally, reading "Alternative to Socialism". I accept as a dogma of faith. She is beautiful and confident, as only she can be close to 58 degrees and, of course, disturbing that attempts to involve us in various and differentiated activities.

In the space of my mind reserved for the mental masturbation I get up, walk to the nearby, showing off an ambiguous smile, I put out a hedgehog dala face (a gesture that will surely distract him), then at least. Inexorably.

In the space of my mind reserved for the accurate perception of reality, I turned to Clare and beg with his eyes: stop reading, take a bath, kill your neighbor.

She looks at me "... new image of youth left."
I look catatonic.
"What the fuck Egle.Ci too live in this country .. it is still your country!"
(I'm sure at this point he turned around and smiles).

I go for ET that always works.
speak over and over again the word Pa-and-brown dell'esserino if the little voice that he wanted to call home.
sold. He smiles. It takes a bath. In four seconds, raises in three runs to the sea. In two of blasphemy because the sand blows, one turns to see where they are, but I do not see.
that I'm on my knees laughing hoarsely.

Radiant tells me to follow her. "I must show you a wonderful place."
Yeah. Ostia. I think,
- went crazy because of the 58 degrees and pointed the Sardinia. The reach by swimming.
- has become an amphibian and wants me to explore the incomparable beauty of the deep capocottiani.
- said this phrase thinking to someone else in some other situation.

But he is right, as always. I think this is the first to overcome the barrier of algae, the only one who came up to the mark. What is known: 500 meters from the shore the water is Ostia PU-LI-TA. I follow swimming struggling a little, wrinkled nose, high forehead.
"See you happy as a fetus that wallows in mummy's tummy."
In these moments I want really good.

Actually I'm happy. Even if a ship behind us is catching fire and our neighbor has followed.

In any case, we feel we can do it.

What Causes Sagging Joists

has run 'MADE SOMEONE NEXT TIME

"At that point I realized that search was my destiny, the emblem of those who come out at night without any specific intention, the purpose of the murderers of compasses. "
-Cortazar Rayuela


is sometimes necessary to change an image to change direction.

Here we are again.

How Much Does An 80 Watt Fan Cost To Run?

If I had thought then that my father would not have turned more word for six months, I probably would have taken the same decision.

I finished preparing the boxes being careful not to put him closer a fraction of a second on each object wrapped. Any act required at least a few minutes and considering the amount of things that I brought with me, come to think now, that night really took me a long time to finish. For the duration had to be closed in the usual total cancellation of any feeling I have in my hands caused those little pieces of life.

So I avoided the flooding river of emotions which would in any case due to report soon.
never left me feeling that there should be someone with me. I do not know who exactly wanted to say even now beside me, and perhaps the confusion over time had become the clot against which my blood had come across, cutting off the flow vital, not allowing you to accompany my every gesture is an expression of the face.

At that moment I just had this. But I kept doing and doing and doing.
Wrap, throw, scegliere.Chiudere, unlock, lift.
When I finished I felt like the last day of vacation: a place where the night before you'd be still a handful of days you indefinite becomes unbearable, you want only to escape as soon as possible.

Anything that evening it seemed as if he had already taken the road of the past. All right in the middle and I just wanted to be as fast as possible on the other side.
So, a quick jump on the scooter and I was full of backpacks and bags and stuck with the duvet between my legs, swollen by the wind all the way up until my chin.
sembrai very funny and I began to sorridere.Feci some facet in the mirror.

Then I thought that was moving really, that I would never slept in that house. that was really a certainty.

again I felt that there would be someone with me. Perhaps I was simply guardare.Pensai fun and I wanted someone to laugh with me and me.

Then I rediscovered a smile and I knew that could not be just anyone.
We were too bulky, I and my duvet.