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"LIFE OR SVIVE, or write"

"I do not want to write, and then it is difficult to unite the will to live with the desire to write"
A. Chekhov (to Alexander Chekhov)


Before leaving, one thing I had been more or less certain, that to overcome long evenings alone, in a place that I hardly had to call home during those months away from my customers closing-time coffee I would write.

Once again I had to deal with feelings and behaviors that, in spite of the expectations made it more likely that I could myself, left me slightly stunned, standing there in silence, watching them act, with a funny expression on his face waiting.

not a word I wrote then. After some resistance the first few weeks, I accepted the fact, helping to give him a kind of dignity with maximum explained that it would be difficult sit down and challenge the entire history of pencil if you wanted to talk to you was still alive, me.
Again, on pelle.Ancora once had to deal with emotions that they could not forget from where you could not take away immediata.Ancora once fought hard against what seemed inevitable, convinced that all stories go ro crystallized, cool spot.

I began to see, slowly, because I'm wrong and after some time I ventured to leave the luxury of picking and andare.Mollai scrissi.Senza no second thoughts, without guilt.

was absolutely no chance that I began to do a few days of the end, when I started, quietly, to leave all I found.
But then I did not explained very well and I was just afraid of losing tutto.Perchè you can not grab things at the moment?

Today it seems so obvious fear of missing out on anything if the only desire was that I felt that nothing, absolutely nothing, I remained on the skin ... lucky you simply change your mind.

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BETWEEN CHEST AND KNEES

"Well I'm sitting on a windowsill, blowing my horn, nobody's up except the moon and me ... and a lazy old tomcat on a Midnight spree, All That You Left Me Was a melody.Rosie, why do you evade? Rosie ... How can i convince? "
T. Waits

Just a
ricordo.Che that evening, a few days before my departure, I had the feeling that I saved for a rainy day in Milan.
made me think it was the heat that made the gas lamps of the restaurant where we were sitting. Now if I could paint that little would parentheses in red. These lamapade blazed and her cheeks warmed so much that we had to remove and replace the coat several times between a plate and another.

We had not seen for some time and every time I watched her smiling face that night I felt very clear that my absolutely stretched and bent in the same places. It was a little feeling of security smile without having to worry about it physically. I thought of the children at that time, that babies smile instinctively, without thinking that much, imitating the person who is smiling at that moment a few inches from his face.

From red light the lamps, the street toward the bus stop was tremendous diversity in temperature. Not feeling the soft skin felt from the beginning of the evening.
I remember that I walked just a little bit lost and I began to fear, somewhere in my body, everything to lose by one second to another. Luckily his voice, at some point, without wanting to let me. He said something about the moon, something that I did not understand that much, still lost behind the word "soft" I did not know decides is the right one or not to describe that feeling ...

Then, look up to heaven, imperceptibly lost his balance, leaning lightly on his shoulder, broken up, I found only my chin very close to the wool of his cappotto.A viso.Neanche few inches from the bus stop, greeting fast, I had time to reflect on what the dinner I was just wondering. How can I convince ? Few months earlier, how could I possibly convince him, how could I explain that ... What if ...
Fortuna I stopped between the "if" and the lightness that took precedence over any pensiero.E that was the only security I had at the fact momento.Tranne continue to wonder why if we keep our glasses distorted a little vedevo.Probabilmente everything was still too little time that I took them.

I had no doubt that the "softness" was an inappropriate word to describe what I felt to be wrapped up in under the covers, when I lay in my bed face down and turned off the light I put in my stanza.Non never on your stomach, but the warmth of the evening I had accumulated in the belly, that shook his chest and between his knees to avoid losing anything. All

salvato.Per the first rainy afternoon I faced here.

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COAT ON A puddle

Milan seemed to have rested his best coat on the puddle, just to let me pass without risking sporcarmi.Almeno for the first few minutes that I spent some lì.Se image of the city, they were certainly not the rosa.E the blue that you could see out of the station.

next to me in his cart and bags of roasted chestnuts that was enough to drag a few meters, up a staircase crowded subway, a reminder that we would have stayed there quite a bit.
The feeling might be similar to the one you rarely feel if a child, full and enveloping, exactly halfway between the excitement and endless tears.
I thought how strange it was that in the next minute I could cry or anything to keep smiling as I was doing when I was dropped from treno.Stesso number of possibilities, but I kept sorridere.Solo a faster, more distrattamente.Allora seemed to me that I could see too many corners, I could breathe in the smells, the fantasies that I could utter fare.Fuggii by launching into a crowd of people heading for the subway, right in front of the station.

I threw too fast I, like trying to keep up with a different rhythm, a life diversa.In reality then it bore the weight of all the "unknown", I had to do to admit it made me incredibly happy, as each channel of my body was put to attention. sentire.Allora To see and I liked it I think that Milan had already involved with his frenesia.A think today was just a Sunday night and people did nothing but go back home trying to draw away some of what was the rest day.

Waiting for the subway I noticed that the floor was white printed map, great, the whole measure of the città.Segmenti of different colors that are crossed and I will sopra.Ricordo was exactly at that moment I thought that I knew nothing, no name, no stop, no color reminds me, something familiar to the skin. It was incredibly, totally completely unknown.

paralyzing So I realized this while staring at the names and colors under my feet and I'm not suggesting anything.
I remember thinking at that moment I could go in any direction. And this would not have made any difference. No one.