Thank You For Sharing Your Special Day With Me

a promise is a promise

http://pensieriminimi.tumblr.com

Sì, lo so, il blog era un'altra cosa.

What Should My Cm Look Like Before My Period

that's all folks

Quando l’essenziale è nato era rosa. 

Un orribile template rosa shocking fornito dalla piattaforma blogger (che spero non si offenda).

Poi è diventato a pallini crayon.

And so I think it was for most of the time in the past four years.

When the main thing is I was born from suzie home, nondiario my high school then at university I had once seemed a skin is not mine.

We had pondered long before closing, or better leave it in the waves of the web as a wreck without crew or helm.

Every time I go back to look at it, I find that someone leaves also his comments.

Scroll down the column of links and I think of the people I lost contact, to those who have closed their blog to those that we feel about each messenger so aware that life is elsewhere.

I recall the feeling of having to close the parentheses.

What had delayed and pushed back for a few months.

And then one day I realized I could no longer write like that light-hearted, fun, light, because I had changed, grown, and things seemed more important. It seemed important to talk really me.

essenzialeinvisibileagliocchi Thus was born the name that seemed perfect, the 'invisible to all before that time, maybe even mine.

Four years seem to reread all four centuries.

With half a degree, France, people who go away forever, people who come back, a house of cards collapsing and being rebuilt in a few months, the school with my donkeys, Italy that becomes tight as a glove.

There is so much of me here.

I know that this attitude seems little consistency.

some posts ago, I appeal for everyone to continue to write on their blog and now I'm here to close this ad.

Sure it is.

inconsistent.

But sincere.

I do not want to write out of obligation or guilt for the sheer neglect of a project that goes on for years.

I want to write with passion and this is and always will be the only reason why I attempt more in 25 years with tales, poems, drafts of books more or less done, conscious of borders on the ridiculous but proud of myself, I can say that it left on paper or on the web a few words with a certain scale.

I'm not good with goodbyes, I'm not even sure that we can never really say goodbye to someone about something for the little that we are masters of the imponderable threads of our lives.

certainly continue to write and when this will happen again when I know what I mean and why, and be first / the first that will let you know.

For the rest I thank all those who have dabbled in these pages.

Who has a comment to those who merely read simply, who became a friend, a friend, who told me his, who has made his life and despite this blog ended up in there.

Brother

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glimmers

are the ones I see in these opening days.

Light, bright, fragile glimpses of a cascade of thoughts and the next.

After being rushed to reconstruct the ground floor, con calma, i miei confini, i miei desideri, la mia rabbia.

Domani c'è sciopero dei mezzi e immagino che in molti siano incazzati.

Tranne me. Il pensiero di restare a casa mi riempie tutta di uno strano calore, come la possibilità di qualche ora in più senza correre da una parte all'altra, rimanendo esattamente dove sono.

Andai nei boschi perché desidervao vivere con saggezza, per affrontare solo i fatti essenziali della vita, e per vedere se non fossi capace di imparare quanto essa aveva da insgenarmi, e per non scoprire, in punto di morte, che non ero vissuto. Non volevo vivere quella che non era una vita, a meno che non fosse assolutamente necessario. Volevo vivere profondamente, e succhiare tutto il midollo di essa, vivere da gagliardo spartano, tanto da distruggere tutto ciò che non fosse vita, falciare ampio e raso terra e mettere poi la vita in un angolo, ridotta ai suoi termini più semplici; se si fosse rivelata meschina, volevo trarne tutta la genuina meschinità, e mostrarne al mondo la bassezza; se invece fosse apparsa sublime, volevo conoscerla con l’esperienza, e poterne dare un vero ragguaglio nella mia prossima digressione” 

(sì, è sempre Thoreau)

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semaineprochaine

On Monday I'm tired, I dress with the wrong clothes and I feel out of place all day, raining and people had hits with umbrellas, sheets of newspaper soaked in water lining the steps of the subway. The station is as rushed as ever, full of a collective desire to depart or arrive as quickly as possible.

On Tuesday it is still raining, I have billions of copies to make, I try to hide behind the pashmina indigo and not think about anything, not to miss the train beat the Olympic record for Bolt, I get on the regional need of an oxygen mask, in is so hot that some passengers had fainted and lay clearly pour on the chairs.

On Wednesday I wake up without knowing it, are not aware of anything that happens before eight and a half when I find myself in a noisy class to suggest to people how to spell or Poitiers Orleans and not feel absolutely proud of what is happening around me. I eat the salad of farro in the shop where all are named with the diminutive and I do not know anybody, I eat standing up because two tizie blonde shades do not move their huge bags signed by the table even when I beg with his eyes. I curse my education, more and more.

Thursday is back so soon that the world is, or rather there is only rain, the only noise heard throughout the city, a pouring monsoon rain reassuring that rocks me while I sleep on the train listening to the latest playlist of sociology with the book on his lap.

Through the usual swarm of electronic toy airplane and I cabinet in ten cubic centimeters in meters, but as the world goes to Cadorna as usual and just one stop to raise the inflation of the umbrella from € 3 to 5.

On Friday I should be studying and instead spend most of the day pretending to regain your strength. I try to defibrillate with a cold shower, I lie on the sofa, promising myself that I'll be there only five minutes and instead I wake up after a couple of hours. In the evening I go out and before ten and a half are a zombie devoid of any energy, I feel tares hung on the eyelids, I get the red capillaries as the willy coyote. On Saturday

study something, I go out with friends, I play a guitar without me, I drink the chocolate with the cream, taste the chianti, and I think this winter is too hot, I want the cold truth, the feeling of driving off the face in the coat collar against the wind, gloves, skin that stings.

Sunday then it is almost Monday.

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appeal

not know whether a caso.Fatto is that in the latter period (which are days, weeks and months) the my blog languish.

of people who read blogs more than those they replace my infotainment and amuse me or make me think things with well-written, intelligent, shared for the most part.

E 'a reading that I miss, I must confess, and never so much as in the latter period.

I too tempting to not write anything.

strong And I mean that every time I open the page of bloggers and I think, fuck it, I close everything and who is seen to be seen. Writing is painful, almost always, almost always get naked and almost always stand in front of something that was better buried in an unspecified part of the unconscious.

Yet it is still stronger than my desire to write.

do not know how and not well understood, but it always happens that after a few bars on a computer screen or a few lines on the moleskine I feel better, to be able to transfer a cumbersome part of myself elsewhere at the moment.

All this to tell you that I still have il privilegio di leggervi tutti/e.

Di qualunque cosa discutiate, politica, pippe mentali, botanica, cucina etnica. 

L’importante è sapere che c’è qualcuno da qualche parte che come me “travasa” una parte di se stesso. 

Sapere che le gabbie non sono ancora tutte chiuse a chiave, che le persone non sono ancora state completamente mangiate dal resto lavoro/scazzi/ingestibilità dell’esistenza.

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This blog has enough

Under this

maybe we just have this .

Misery, misery, misery.

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Dear / e.

The events of recent days, so we're talking about those events, they leave me speechless.

Not because they have an opinion, of course I have one, but the problem is that it makes me suffer.

If I think I'm twisted guts.

If I think of things like the lack of integration, racism, money at all costs, corruption, cunning, deception, exploitation, rudeness, job insecurity, ignorance.

If I still do not understand why the news always talk (right and left) of a Chinese, a Moroccan, an Albanian, a Romanian as if these people had a name and a surname.

If I think of school as I experienced, all the boys / girls who live in their childhood because their parents are totally alone in the factory from morning to evening.

If I think the lessons of my university where the wealthy people over the class throws everything on the floor, towels, bric juice, newspapers, tickets, train tickets, where to take you away without an apology, not where you are greeted ever, unless you want something in return. If I think

TG5 yesterday to recommend to yoga to combat the daily stress and have a better life. Yoga, c *** o.

These are all things that are hurting me deep inside, that make me crack the bones in his right shoulder in June this part to make me wake up at four in the morning, make me stop watching television, reading newspapers.

I'm sick of this country, I can write it?

I think it's the point.

There are days when I find myself with passion to throw things in the study of sociological or philosophical or whatever, feeling that this will change the world or at least change my world, help me to resist, will help me to realize more than happens.

And days when I do not know anything about anything, living complete unconsciousness, completely immerse myself in some superficiality, to experience the thrill of feeling part of a whole society and not the usual bit of wrong color.

not recognize myself in the low stone figures and peeled, or in the styling girlie with perfect coiffure that these days worrying issue statements as if nothing had happened, as if no one was able to understand that there are scrubbing.

But not even recognize myself in those early morning fill me with pamphlets on Marxism-Leninism, dusted-Guevara T-shirts that are just and against, without any idea own, something to believe in strongly and positively.

I realize that this attitude is wrong, pessimistic, cynical, because basically I even propose anything new.

E 'for the moment goes like this, really.

I'm tired, stove, I would like a rubber armor to wear every day for us to bounce back against the evil thoughts.

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no comment

No comment

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Autumn Took my life

At some point in the autumn.

Near the end of October, for example.

A path covered with dry leaves and chestnuts to sink your feet.

The apple fritters, swollen with the icing sugar over.

People walk, go, go.

Nobody screams and it is wonderful.

The sun is orange like when you squeeze the lemon in the right place.

I have a house with a pier or a verandah, as an alternative.

To sit there in the evening, looking at things that are waiting for the dark, listening to the sound of many small items that are becoming thinner.

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farewell flower

on the train as usual.

E'decisamente later, we understand how commuters shuffling feet and luggage on the tracks.

I arrived fifteen minutes before and I'm buried in my chair filthy.

before sinking into a parallel universe of music and I get lost staring at the architecture of the central station, the huge time of metal that gives me the idea of \u200b\u200ba big goodbye hug rusty to people who run away from milan, as if he understood what it means to see her every day and we suffered a bit ', would remedy the situation.

comes an old friend whom I thank heaven is there because otherwise I groped to keep me awake with the usual tricks such as:

imagine what they think other people in the compartment

imagine my life told by a voiceover

imagine video for the song I'm listening

imagine what it will take the train when it will be cold

start a conversation by the light tone of the rest are dressed the sweatshirt and shoes from hippies, those damned etnies much that I wanted so badly and caused me to walk before he became my shield against rain and zozzume of urban roads.

few minutes after you add us to an acquaintance that I do not think I have ever seen before.

about a girl who, after having broken up with her boyfriend, now lives a series of emotional ups and downs.

I fall into a pleasant slumber, one in which I found a good alternative to deep sleep: listen to their speeches and I would simply nod or smile full of gratitude for their presence here and now.

Then at some point I realize that I know both i protagonisti della vicenda.

A quanto pare quando si dice che il mondo è piccolo non si tiene conto del fatto che i treni lo sono di più. 

Se esistesse una macchina del tempo credo che mi piacerebbe incontrarmi otto anni fa per ricordare come la pensavo allora. Mi sono venute in mente due cose.

Quarto anno delle superiori sono seduta sulla scala anticendio nell’intervallo, c’è il sole, ho i capelli corti, sono inspiegabilmente felice.

Maggio o giugno di quest’anno, sono in treno, piove e il finestrino sporco di spray è pieno di gocce che lo percorrono in diagonale perfetta, I think of all the people to whom I apologize.

So between one thing and another fly to Seattle, got off the train, we say goodbye, I go back home along the intended path, sliding door of the station, turn right, walk to the bus station and insert the on.

heat is strange for October, the lights are yellow as in August.

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savianoroberto

http://www.robertosaviano.it/documenti/9652

I was talking the other day with my mother in one of those long discussions after dinner, when the fatigue plus a cup di the mi permette di dar sfogo a tutto il sgomento nei confronti del paese Italia.

Parlavamo di Gomorra (uno di quei libri che leggi e non puoi fare a meno di parlarne per anni, ti senti in dovere di) e parlavamo di Roberto Saviano appunto e io dicevo, mannaggia lui è eroe alla seconda, perché è giovane (28 anni capite, tre più della sottoscritta) e gli hanno rubato la vita da sotto i piedi, la possibilità di avere affetti, amici, amori, famiglia, di alzarsi la mattina, gli hanno rubato la possibilità di pensare che, nonostante tutto questo granschifo intorno, c'è sempre qualcuno con cui condividerlo e sopportare meglio la batosta.

Questo senza nulla togliere the heroes of a certain age, mind you.

only one that says, not all is' big thing is out to get a beer at the pub, rent a movie and watch it with friends, take a walk to shops, go see a concert.

There are things in life that are most important.

But then take a boy of 28 years and Take off the carefree, normality.

Take away the freedom to have twenty-eight years, let alone with the company of her escort, these "guardian angels" who risk their lives to protect it and have a family, however, have at least one pair of eyes and to look to for explanations, comfort, courage.

All this because? If he asks, quite rightly asks why should live like this, because, after all, wrote only a book, a book about the Camorra, and said the news that one would expect to receive from a newscast or read a newspaper.

Roberto Saviano asked what he did wrong. And it's pissed.

Why does not deserve it, does not deserve a country that devotes a couple of articles every now and for the rest of the time leaves him alone with her "guardian angels" on to box and pass the days as if he were in prison.

Trying to pass it off as one who, after all, has made money and went to Cannes as well as in Italy there are those who make money by cheating the banks, killing people, grated cheese moldy and pretending to be delicious culinary delicacies.

Our country lives today as they were just incredible paradoxes and disturbing normal equation good deed = + applause prize is not worth more, even, paradoxically, is considered evidence of low cunning.

Death to the categorical imperative, the way of living that is more comfortable. So

I feel like apologizing to Roberto Saviano.

not on behalf of other people but for myself.

For every time I turn my face from another to avoid seeing.

For all the times that I did not dare to oppose me because I think that I could miss.

For my fears.

Because I'm not a hero.

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worms

Tomorrow is not lecture institutions ontology.

E 'a course that I like although there is half of Heidegger, that of "not being, is more like something good."

institutions is a course that I like it because the last time there was talk of Sartre's Nausea, and I was reminded of my folder of technique on which I had transcribed a piece taken from that wonderful book.

My math teacher asked me if it was the story of one who was not so good. The Nausea understand?

My math teacher was not a highly esteemed person. She even.

Oh well.

tomorrow and then I go to Milan in the late morning and this means that we may be able to sit during the journey.

Today I did stand up to listening to Laura Veirs Magenta and sitting on a piece of a free press to step up to the Central listening to Vampire Weekend, who are really cool.

Walden I'm almost done, I'm holding two pages for tonight, so I have intelligent thoughts need to sleep well.

Today the underground I fell back in the vicious circle of germs.

I started thinking about all the germs that had in head, hands, the germs that ran on the seats of the train, those on the meter at the bottom of my bag that I support anywhere, on the handrail of the stairs at the university.

I felt like Howard Hughes.

I thought back to last year when I was kindly offered some free samples of gel Amuchina, capable, in their view, to neutralize any germs present on the palm of the hand in 15 seconds.

That is stuff that I'm passing tissue on the hands and chest to operate a commuter in conditions of absolute hygiene. I also thought about buying but then I was only four and five minutes to € germ-trotting toward the train was going back home through the fog of rice and a pale moon is also blurred by the germs.

And 'I do not feel ready yet to take me behind the t-shirt to support the seats of the train, I'm so old intolerant of deviance in the world.

"It seemed that he had no companions in the universe, and that he enjoyed so alone;

it also seemed that it did not need the other company in the morning and the ether to play with. [...]

Master air, it seemed to regard with the land only for an egg hatched some time ago in the cleft of a steep rock

-or was it built its nest in the primary of a cloud, woven with the ornaments of the rainbow and the sunset, and lined the soft summer steam, taken from the earth.

Today its nest on some steep cloud. "

Walden-Life in the woods-pg 392

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greetings and kisses / the nebulous high school years

namely:

when the Sabbath evening for a few minutes you find yourself among people of a century ago and you close the belly shot

Regarding the high school years, a period that many indicate in their existence as a golden age of happiness and great throttle partying, I can simply say that despite everything I enjoyed it.

In spite of that hide friends wrong, impossible love, longing for the world around them unnecessary, prolonged listening to Creep by Radiohead, the use of military trousers, shoes with safety pins, attendance of high school with a national Outbuildings etc.. etc..

Although since then has grown and exceeded all una serie di cose per cui il mio cuore era solito cadere in pezzi, nonostante tutto , accade che, nei luoghi della movida notturna di seattle, circondata da quel panorama di individui che popolava i miei anni delle superiori (compagni, conoscenti, emeriti sconosciuti incrociati nei corridoi e nelle lunghe e ipnotiche vasche sul corso), lo stomaco mi si stringa in una ferrea morsa e improvvisamente mi ritrovi catapultata in quegli anni senza scudo e senza corazza, quando a tutti riusciva di leggere la mia diversità di prospettive senza che me ne accorgessi.

E’ una scemenza da adolescenti lo so, e anche un periodo troppo lungo che necessiterebbe di maggior punteggiatura.

Lo scrivo perché iersera ho interagito con un personaggio di quegli anni che dopo pochi secondi di scialba conversazione ha dato uno sguardo di disapprovazione alle mie scarpe senza tacco, ai miei normalissimi jeans, ha giudicato il mio rimmel un po' sbavato di fine serata, e mi ha congedato semplicemente voltando il suo drink in un'altra direzione.

In altre circostanze l'avrei sicuramente mandata a ca**re. 

Eppure ieri per qualche strana coincidenza cosmica mi sono ritrovata a pensare a quella vita lontana del liceo e a quel binario su cui sarei potuta saltare a piedi pari diventando più happy hour e meno impegnat-iva, emozionandomi per cose altre rispetto a ipotetici collegamenti tra Calvino and Thoreau.

Secondly I discussed the fact that the university, albeit in a whirlwind two-legged beings light years away from me, I seem to wear armor glittering thoughts, readings, dreams, songs and stories that prevents any low blow Every look bad and keeps me going head on.

Contact with people of a century ago, however, this armor seems to crumble and I'm only one with the wrong shoes and the warmth out of place, as if I were attending a big party where everyone can do very well without the my presence, you're just a person, what you do or how you live does not matter.

The high school years are over for me by a piece, enclosed in square brackets and sharp, almost all ties and contact details changed forever.

There are greetings and kisses to give away but just wanted to be somewhere else, with friends today, the laughter of today, the clothes of today and the last shell remedied.

.

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Men with the bag but not too self

As you might have imagined in those days I was in Milan.

I went out after dark and came home with it, so I had no material forces to update the blog. Since

But today I went out after dark and returned with a minimum of light I'm here to say my impressions of these early days of the New Great University.

And even if new is no longer (if the sky really wants this is the last year) certainly continues to be foreign.

therefore become the great foreign universities, where these days are around billions of millions of students in a continuous catwalk designer who never stops even during lunch.

Sure, I thought that a man should not be pas mal the settlement of all these beautiful chicks ancheggianti in every corner of the courtyard, in a blaze of blushes, cotonature, virtuoso of the plate, in combination with giant bags mobile phones in conjunction with charms in conjunction with the cobbled courtyard.

Only I am a woman and, apart from the fact that I find some of my colleagues mises definitely more suited to a motorway as a sociology lesson, if nothing else I'd like to see a similar parade of beautiful people (not me simone have, I'm making use of glaring irony). Instead

nothing.

Porca the goose if it is true that men have more stock of the GEU me.

handbag, yes you heard right. Not existentialists purses, bags military, folders, à la Sartre.

Bags.

Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Dior.

Sometimes even sbarluccicante paint.

stuff that kills his manhood from Milan to Cologno, boiled and some municipalities in Lecco.

My Gosh.

The teachers face is not doing better.

In two years of attendance was a real overview of sweaters from real diamonds inertia, full gray, mouse gray, dark gray, combined with obvious carry-white as the snows of Greenland, waterproof exhibitionists, protruding bellies, ties eighties and shoes with cleats to Sarkozy.

Then launch a proposal to the Minister of Education: In addition to the apron, only the master and the bales are not there could also have students with thighs coperte e docenti di migliore aspetto?

In attesa di una sua gentile risposta,

cordiali saluti

frà

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Oggi camminavo per Seattle senza scopo alcuno se non quello di camminare e ascoltare musica. 

E’ una delle libertà che ho deciso di prendermi prima dell’inizio delle lezioni e della milanite e del pendolarismo.

Considerando che ieri l’ho passato a letto bloccata da un bastardissimo dolore alla cervicale, la settimana di libertà ha ancora quattro giorni e mezzo da offrirmi che ho intenzione di trascorrere nel miglior modo possibile person or by quiet.

I realize that despite the years that I spend most of my days worried about something, a goal, a problem to be addressed, a situation that is wrong.

always constantly on the run, stretched like a rubber band ready to launch somewhere.

Or are angry about how the world works and how things go.

For the feeling of utter helplessness, to count less than zero in the great party game. Can not do anything to change the events seriously.

It 's hard to say what I will be great (because they are difficult to come to the conclusion that for me a job is worth the other, I have ambitions of career woman and I do not give anything a rewarding professional life. I just have a decent job that is not cheating people or steal money to someone, otherwise what is is).

It 'just as hard to guess if I really find the giant x final direction towards which my stretch and jump.

Today, however, walking in a city like Seattle transparent, following the notes of music I felt really calm . Despite everything I still have the ability to pull outside, to judge whether something is right or wrong in my point of view, to be clear about what I would not ever be.

As you can steal pieces, as you could put into question, much as they always finish you off another spanner in the works, consistency and conviction to do the right thing gifts are important and should not be underestimated.

Mai.

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Happy 5769

Tomorrow night is another year. What is past has been quite painful and complicated. But overall I am still here, and there is much to do.

Shanah Tovah

At all. And who knows, maybe even resume blogging.

[tagname]

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scioperoparole

In these days of few words. More akin to the images and suggestions that a real conversation with the head and tail. So if you like my photos are here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/invisibileagliocchi

and those of Simo here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/mrbubbaz
And to you what it's autumn? Tomorrow after I answer examination. Night!

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The first day of autumn.

The examination is approaching but I still want to feel light. So

Simone offers a photographic tour where you get lost not to mention the observation of the golden rice fields and huge clouds, slow sailing ships in the autumn sky.

Among the fields the only sounds are those of the flies and frogs that jump from one ditch to another. The ground beneath your feet is dry and covered by invisible wounds of tractor wheels.

very difficult times will come.

Comes the regional, metro, the queues to buy books, shoes, having to carry from place to place.

Today, however, is the first day of autumn, it is hot but the air is brisk that tip that tells of the first colored leaves resting on the shoulder sweaters in the evening.

eat on the last Grand Avenue as the sun disappears behind the roofs of houses and gets a bit 'cold.

If I had a lamp to rub express a desire to leave immediately and go see how the fall around the world and what else has to tell.

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Lost

have no internet, no phone, no money in phone and I have not the faintest idea of \u200b\u200bhow will I deliver my curriculum by tomorrow at 11.30, stop it I do take an exam in addition, live milan, organize a birthday party in form by Saturday, go over everything within the next week, to find the money for the train ticket, explain to Julie that my fingers on the keyboard are not attractive prey.

currently goes well, we hope that the wheel turns.

cross.

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analysis period

During this period, every word seems important to me.

This period is what you escape from under the feet if not careful.

During this time I listen to music but do not know what and then I listen to the yard just below my room.

This period is when I have to help me move. A study. To live. Everything.

During this time I dream my life with as if my subconscious was trying to make a show.

This period is one in which I would like to re-establish some relationship and call and apologize. In this period would start

willingly to a place like the UK.

This smells of wet period and clouds and sunsets in slow motion.

During this time I'm thinking whether or not to cut my hair. Seriously.

This period is probably where I'll finish Tom Jones to read without having time to start reading something else.

At this time there are birthdays, find gifts, cakes to make.

This period is what everyone calls in September.

And every year I left high on a wire suspended a thousand feet high and I do not know whether to go forward or backward.

The Moment Has Come to face the truth

I'm wide awake, and so are you

Do you have a clue what this is? (I do not know)

Are Everything That I miss you? (I do hope so)

'll just Have to wait and see (Wait, and see) If things go

right we're Meant to Be

-Modern Nature-Sondre Lerche

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Comeback cupcakes (cupcakes back)

Wednesday afternoon.

The weather for the worse and the return shot from my cold cartridges depriving the latest hearing and smell. Photocopies

the committee seem to multiply rather than diminish.

Maybe it's a matter of personal perspectives and suggestions, yesterday when I dragged home a couple of pizzas to take away I thought I heard noise

king of gulls in the sky.

I'm here but not here, I'm here but I would be elsewhere.

Not so much for being on vacation in itself as for the other body be-where, where different from that in a Seattle ripopolatasi suddenly girls in hotpants and men lamp.

I would like a small planet made to measure.

And so, like all the times when I feel full of knots that intertwine like snakes beneath the feet of Indiana Jones I put myself in the kitchen.

quietly, with my notes, my bowls, my battered and weighs Giulio telescoping legs in powdered sugar.

Measure, mix, centrifuge, cook.

Out rages a violent storm.

But I'm in my own little world and made cups of vanilla and powdered sugar.

At the end of my work I have produced the vanilla cupcakes with lemon icing, also dubbed "the cakes back or" because I hope to recover from back syndrome, because the food is always something that gives satisfaction and because at times to feel at home, it is important to be in a place rather than another, but to come to terms with ourselves.

And there's nothing better than to corrupt their will that a disproportionately high-calorie sweets.

Ps Thanks to Enzo for the card full of hairy sheep .... immediately placed on the wall opposite the desk.

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Restless?

I put back on the books.

Without enthusiasm, without grit, his eyes languidly leaning against the delusions of the material for the next exam.

I'm not writing almost anything because if I write I think, if I think I worry and I worry if my stomach is a brick. So I prefer to spend hours each day in activities that allow me to maintain a minimum threshold of consciousness type play guitar, watching soap operas in Germany, drinking coffee, brushing my hair.

Television is the ideal place to switch off the brain.

And while I realize that is not a good thing better would be to hold off and go for a walk or study something clever or indulge in a hobby like crocheting, cookies, pottery, on the other hand I know that soon will come the autumn of regional and regret with all my heart those moments of sweet nothing in which to leave your mind and your body.

will be the end of August is not yet in September with its beautiful sunsets lysergic, but only in late summer, a tan that is under way nivea shower and there is going to hold.

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When, where, when disordered

When would you be preparing for an exam but you limit yourself to be surrounded by open books which does not give even a glance.

When a stiff neck bastard hits you first right, then left, then to the center and you get three in the morning to try homeopathic remedies on the Internet.

When the tan goes away from your face by creating you unsightly Maori tattoos.

When trying to heat a rag in the microwave on fire near the house (yes I know it's not you, but I wanted to hurry).

When your mother tells you that in a furniture sold thrones as those of programmi della De Filippi.

Quando calienta il sol là in quella playa in cui non sei più.

La crisi di rigetto volge comunque al termine. 

Sebbene il maledetto obtorto collo abbia frenato i miei notevoli progressi con la chitarra (stavo imparando everybody hurts per la gioia dei vicini e simone ha cercato di mostrarmi il barré ma per il momento le mie dita non vogliono saperne) i miei chakra si stanno allineando con quest'atmosfera di autunno e lentezza che già permea la bassa.

Nonostante faccia ancora abbastanza caldo gli abitanti di Seattle già si aggirano con bomber, spolverini e maglioncini intorno al collo, anche alle tre di pomeriggio. 

Of course the downside of that is me with my desire to run out of time for tank tops and shorts, I almost get stuck in bed doped up to Voltaren.

But, I said, against Seattle is ready for the autumn, the first leaves fall, the sky took on a uniform gray, the people prepare for the season of eating and dancing festivals. I want to

Monferrato hills and arrive early on the 29th. Why

out Kung Fu Panda.

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Diary of a summer preposterous. Part I ^ and perhaps only

Tuscany ha davvero qualcosa di diverso. 

Prima di tutto la gente sembra vivere la propria vita con una tranquillità d’animo difficile da trovare al nord. 

Va in spiaggia col copricostume del mercato pure se ha la porche, ha le borse frigo con i fiorelloni giganti e il palmare, fa kite surf, ha le spiagge per i cani, porta i bambini al miniclub della piscina e non si preoccupa.

I toscani sono estremamente spiritosi e anche perennemente incazzati tra loro per diatribe storiche perse nei tempi dei tempi. E questi non can make people appreciate that.

write bawdy and romantic murals, go to the beach walk for miles into the pine forests, shuffling speak as if any sentence is hard and then had to be balanced against the right.

The Maremma is beautiful. At first when you get there you do not know. But as night falls and behind the camp you realize that there is nothing for miles and miles above your head but you can see the Milky Way as an episode of The Discovery Channel, you start to guess why the rich people are snobs and chic are made the villa there, hidden by trees.

In Maremma is full of festivals. Each country will organize one thousand five hundred. In a week you can taste acquacotta, fish soup, noodles with wild boar, panzanella, and enjoy the old men who dance the dances and sexy Caribbean Orchestra who give us the beast within.

In Tuscany, I had the strangest dream. Here this is not tourism-related information, however, are convinced to have made these dreams because I was in Tuscany. The night I fell asleep in a chorus of cicadas e buffi uccelli notturni e calavo in profonde parti del mio incoscio tirando fuori facce, episodi del passato, allegorie da brivido. La Toscana aiuta l’autopsicanalisi.

In Toscana ho letto Farenheit. Di prima battuta non c’ho capito niente. Però ero in spiaggia e avevo abbozzato solo un timido tentativo intellettuale comprendendo fin da subito che l’equazione estate=stand by cerebrale era valida anche per quest’anno. Quindi sono andata a giocare a racchettoni con mia sorella. Poi siccome c’è stato un giorno in cui mi ero ustionata di brutto e sembravo l’uomo torcia degli x man e dovevo restare fissa sotto l’ombrellone I started farenheit and I finished after about an hour. Beautiful and sad too.

I decided that at the dawn of my twenty-five moons learn to play guitar. Although I can only strum the song of the sun and america horse with no name of which has two agreements, but still allows you start tirarsela a bit. But now I have to buy a guitar. So I have to get a job. I put an ad in the newspaper like "Young Drivers experience abroad bilingual three-year graduate job seekers to buy guitar."

In Toscana ho visto “Il Giardino dei Tarocchi” di Niki de Saint Phalle e mi sono commossa come al solito per la mia stendhalite congenita. Fortuna che non se è accorto nessuno perché avevo gli occhiali da sole.

Sono stata pure alle vaschette di Saturnia. Che non sono le terme che immagino a pagamento, a foggia di piscina, richiedenti una cuffia per doccia. Le vaschette sono vasche nella roccia naturali, all’aperto, dove sgorga acqua a 37 gradi e mezzo ed è blu ed è gratis. Siamo rimasti lì immersi fino alla punta dei capelli a guardare la luna e le stelle. Wow.

I spent eighteen separate days from my faithful feline Julius and absence is never weighed so much when I finally regained his feet it was all a basin, a struscino, a carezzina, a piece of chicken. It 's my first cat is spoiled and so intolerable, I realize.

Livorno I did not like much, maybe because I expected more, something like, Genoa, or perhaps because the American market have not found the courage to ask the price of the tricks to the camouflage.

This summer I dedicated myself to activities under 10.

I made sand castles, I got to produce a fake mermaid tail always sand, I have a deflated mattress, I picked up the shells with little holes for a necklace that I'll never have time to do.

I will miss virtually all of Tuscany.

Why only holiday we realize the effort made in giorni precedenti e si puntano i piedi contro la fatica che verrà. E anche perché ogni volta che sono al mare sento di essere al posto giusto, in pace con me stessa, a casa.

E poi, per la miseria. Sono a Vercelli da 24 ore fa un freddo boiardo, il meteo scandisce pioggia e temporali a volontà e quelli dell'università mi hanno intasato la posta di moduli per sganciare loro tantissimi soldi. Ha ragione mia madre quando dice che ad andare in ferie più a lungo saremmo tutti più buoni. 

Che ci pensino quelli lì del governo.

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Leaving Seattle

Ci sono periodi in cui il nostro corpo cerca di recuperare le energie in modi misteriosi. 

A me ad esempio succede di dormire tantissimo a qualsiasi ora del giorno e contemporaneamente non riuscire a scrivere pressoché nulla. 

Però, poiché mi faceva proprio brutto lasciare il blog così a metà, senza dire una parola, ho deciso di appuntare un ultimo breve aggiornamento prima delle vacanze.

Tra qualche giorno abbandonerò gli orizzonti lattiginosi dell'afa padana alla volta di paesaggi marini e cercherò di scrollarmi di dosso la polvere dell'ultimo mattonissimo anno universitario.

said that I wish all those who pass through these parts that make a summer to remember with pleasure and a bit 'to be longing.

Happy Holidays Rega.

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Something in the way "he" moves

Fucibet Cream Uses Baby

Tibet: the clothes do not make the Monaco? The banner

Amalric, from it.politica.internazionale auxiliary sends me this picture of Chinese who have just received new clothes from Monaco.

E 'to the Dalai Lama has accused Chinese troops.


Non so se questa immagine provi l'accusa.
Aggiornamento: no, decisamente non lo prova
Come la ricevo, così la pubblico.

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25th Birthday Invitation

B4freetibet, simplified

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Blogs for Free Tibet

Again. As in Berlin, Potsdam, Budapest, Prague and Beijing. Tanks with a red star against against independence, against the right of peoples to live free.

There is not much that we each can do, even when governments want to intervene to save a country from annihilation of cultural, religious and historical.

To begin with, even if only to think, was born on it.politica.internazionale " Blogs for Free Tibet." A virtual chain to witness the solidarity with the Tibetan people, who will work for it to embrace the whole world

Add the banner to your blog, you can copy the code here .


Here are the banners in four versions

Dynamics:





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Dynamics 150 pixels:






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