briefly (I hope) we can see if there is to clarify something piece by piece (you can read it even after being partially):
- Massimo Volume: so called because I was a young Mimi Clementi while composing and reassembled. To be clear, with some additions, was my only ever proposed text "live", thanks to Sergio Ramos. Electrifying experience, though not entirely positive (despite some very critical, too!, Flattering). Bon, however, thought it looked more than Disco Pax Offlaga of that Mimi, the series know what you're doing ...
- Afraid : I can not remember when I fucking wrote the first version of this thing, however there is still something wrong ... I like the second part which is
latest invention - A litter continuous : along the lines of the previous one ... always trouble as teenagers. If you look at myself first and that kind of stuff, here there are many more references to the relationship with others. I would say that the final (Ravenna ) gives a positive outlook on life in general (also the fact that I am not satisfied as a result is another matter ...)
- Proxemics intimate : clear sentimental. Questions to be asked when a report now in the present, is not nothing left
- With the front ... : well ... I do not like. quite useless, and just forward the e-quote in conclusion (to brown)
- Vaccanoia : describes, hope fine, some days that pass, and empty all the same.
- Houston we have a problem: here, in addition to clumsily make the funny guy with the title, we could read a sort of continuation of Vaccanoia with a very pessimistic conclusion.
- melancholy moment # 104 : nothing to say .. for now I do not even seem so bad as a composition. It is probably one of those things that make me want to vomit in a few years.
- Bricolage: a moment of Amarcord. I tried to delete all that doing good background that I did not know if we are mica combing her pubic hair. A little 'we are successful, a little' no 'because I want to love me and people I grew up with and why did not I promise never enough.
- Tell me more ... : a tribute due. perhaps too explicit to be beautiful in and of itself, but had to be done and what the fuck
- It 's a moment and then passes : still uncomfortable adolescent by hand market. I am reminded of my terrace of a summer afternoon that there is a shit to do and you end up with bad writing, speaking evil, evil thinking (moretti docet).
- And I can not help thee : apart from the title that sounds really bad, and ugly, perhaps, among these, the "piece" the best (crap similvascobrondiane apart as the adulterous Nigerians do not know the fuck shot at stake to do, poor things ...)
Act fifth
Massimo Volume
time to send me a short recording of your voice, it was the way you communicate with me. My letters all returned to the sender, you just know that you thought.
"It 'a particular period of my life: I'm trying new sensations. Maybe I've never been so only.
would raise the speaker volume to maximum to hear your words clearly, to hear your words clearly.
time you stopped leaving the house, do not you relate to anyone.
your posts always ended with bitter reflections on society, not just to make the tape end to yourself. Or so I assumed.
"I'm very physically active, I take care of my body and I'm writing a novel. I just name it after
of 'Good excuse'. "
I was at your house after your death. I have looked everywhere sheets where writing but there was nothing between the shelves, in every closet, even in the kitchen. But there was nothing.
The tapes were all empty, except one: rewound the tape and heard the sound of your bass. Suddenly, the sound is distorted and you shouted, and you screamed, but no one understood what you said. You screamed, but no one understood what you said.
not you afraid this
fog that prevents us from seeing our true nature
did you think of a better man!
Then you take the sadness from which escape
you afraid of being a small man! And the questions
forget that you are not able to answer
You cling to the handrail of the stairs to avoid falling
are a silent scream
broken or you are a silent scream
or broken
thou hast thought?
us
jokes about watching the clock
not going to come out
A litter A litter continuous continuous
done a few things scattered around me
that I can not give order
Our lives hung out to dry
Doubts, doubts on this empty
The only thing we have
But I can not cry every day I see your soul
chopped off by a scalpel in his hand
something that I can not define
We have tried in vain to make ourselves understood but
no words came out
words there came out and sat on a bench
face to face with a red sunset
and think back to people for whom nothing
we left the illusion that the fault is not our
face to face with a red sunset
Proxemics intimate
What we have before?
is not a picture or an object
There is a picture or an object
I would figure it out and tell you how I know So
What goes through your head
Here's where you find there is no order
All objects scattered around
you bent down to pick the time and I did not understand
you understood and do not now have had a hand in things we have to change and I did not understand
and
you understood you were not bent down to pick up the
time balance, after all, is all you need
who are you?
With his forehead pressed to the window of the car
The cold forehead against the window as I watch the campaign that passes quickly.
I grew a black hole in it, and I am not looking forward to a piece of me
eyes slowly follow the paths of the drops
Quiet!
(distractions
why do not I hear
serve)
Èpropriotuttosbagliato
The organization, everything
E'propriotuttosbagliato
One day you said "words are not enough, I use also images"
Vaccanoia
These days who do not know anything
walking slowly caress
Thoughts Ideas do not emerge
I wonder if the lack of peace or the lack of pure
disturbances
The days walk slow
unnecessary testing but you just can not create anything
the white walls, is less comforting,
has something left.
did you dream last night that you spoke and his voice
you tore
and implored him to stop
I can not concentrate on any particular
but you escape the connections between things you
missing something that is definitive
As an author that in front of the typewriter is only hesitation and not words
're away from everything you do
The day slips slowly slowly slips
on your back on your back
Houston we have a problem
You were immersed in
people asking you if it has anything to do
The future will nothing new seems to be a decidedly different
:
you ever expected to change, a push from outside the changing conditions
look at the floor tiles, the proportions between the objects in this room, games color, consistency, and seek links between these things still do not know that would change almost nothing.
know that events happen in the best
At times like these
helpless!
your hand stretched out toward the empty
of this room that has walls like never before
your hand, reaching out to the void!
Your hand, reaching out to the void!
Your hand, reaching out to the void!
reaching out to the void!
Towards the void!
Towards the void!
The empty!
Empty!
!
melancholy moment # 104
It 's a bitter portrait
privilege in which the brown
a painting on the ceiling to admire
lying on the floor when it is summer and hot weather
lying to share with cool cats and dust
to blow away this
Life is full of colors
and we dress in black
Crafts
We were clumsy enough to get volunteers in the army of losers
spitting on the ground rarely
and we never said we are now so many things
grown and that sign lit
still watch every now
makes me think of time passing and our
, modest, evolutionary parable
makes me think of time passing and
the time I wasted without saying that there
and I loved the time I wasted for nothing without loving you
Explain still things Bruno
Sometimes it's as if we were trapped inside the
cotton and it is not easy to do battle with his throat
you came one day to tell me that I expose myself, not a tactical move
tell me
Bruno!
Believe me I know nothing about.
I just the other day to your dark skin
and calm the tumult concealing your
Bruno!
"throwing stones, waiting for the echo"
suffer and that any decision
long
weigh the benefit of the doubt, especially in your youth that fall
"The certainty that there is nothing more sublime
's Pending
fall under the blows of the experience, while
will drop the curtain, as
a veil on our
incompetence.
cocks did not try, do not be
cocks for anyone, hours spent
look in his eyes, hoping
understand each other. "
and from the top of every tree you climbed
what you saw?
Tell me what you mean ?
Bruno!
no, do not go down
no, do not go down
It 's a moment, then passes
The paranoia of the students are like summer storms
drunk in the evening we celebrated the modesty
the false thinness
the wind cold and damp Po
that mainly affects the arms
the discomfort we feel at times like a horn
the historical dates we
slipped on things we go over the signs
leave and leave the inevitable rise
succumb to the daily distance
contradict
was thinking about you the other day
was thinking about you the other day
("a physiological level , eye contact increases nerve activity in both situations rewarding, both in situations of danger ")
And I do not I have helped
one day we have the courage to understand the emptiness of our past, and will cure the details . we gave kisses of toothpaste. we have too often been suspended and tell us what to do without looking at the reality of our desires. not ask the important things. we sterile cultivated a relationship, how well we have cultivated the love?
now tell me something that makes me feel better
sometimes lying on your bed I lose my eye on the ceiling. I do not care about you. I reflect on the past without my sharing. still waiting still waiting for a nice weekend and I
I have not helped, now I stoning as the adults in Nigeria. I will not have helped, I have betrayed your simplicity. the usual jerk.
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