Letter Of Sponsorship For My Wedding

2008 (PIACENZA) Clashing

Hello to everybody,
I inform you that since Thursday 25 September to Sunday 28th, will be held in Piacenza, the first Festival of the law under the direction of Stefano Rodota. In recent months I have stretched out to the organizers of the festival and presented a project on behalf of THE ATOM (Arcigay Piacenza), which has as its object the issue of new families. The project was in part accepted and included in the event program. Thursday, September 25 at the Auditorium S. Ilario (Via Garibaldi n. 17) Piacenza at 21, there will be a screening of the documentary film "Suddenly, Last Winter," preceded by the activation of Valerian Scassa (Chairman of the Atom), who will discuss the activities of 'Association of Piacenza and what leads to the presence or absence of legislation to protect unmarried couples in a legal system, and my, during which I will discuss the ethical implications of the founding principles of the Constitution regarding this matter Please join the new famiglie.Vi numerous and alert as many people as possible.
the link of the Festival of the law is as follows, there you will find the full schedule and maps to find us:
http://www.festivaldeldiritto.it/index.php
A big hug to everybody
DOMENICO Alfarone

How Long To Use Oral Daktarin

catastrophic thoughts and entropic

Today, the catastrophe of the articles I've read that fits well with my mood .... that is, perhaps my scorn of the world are in complete emotional contiguity with it; despise him because he is despicable and despised by itself and in an attempt to despise so it seems appropriate to bask in the inevitability of the outcome its evolution: the world dies to himself as if his primary function was her own extinction ....
If today I were in the Middle Ages (to play at a time paradox) I'd probably be one of those mad monks who preaches the " contemptus mundi" through the exile from the world .... yet there are so entangled-of-fact to understand it and contribute to his being at the very moment when the judge unacceptable and incomprehensible, in a bid to emerge from its sewage all I do is sinking deeper. I always thought there was a vast difference between those who want to change the world and who wants to destroy or will it shrink ... Today nell'incostante schizophrenia positions I support this difference seems to be so poor result in a mere matter of words. Strictly speaking, changing the world is how to destroy what is, or rather the renewal, rebirth, necessarily involves a death before a conflagration can be reborn from the ashes in the 'Other', and yet I feel inside me the invincible belief that this "new other" inevitably become an "old identity", but then the flight is perhaps the most reasonable outcome?
ANACHOREO , I pick ... is the answer? I do not know, indeed, no, definitely not, why is nothing but a manifestation of the same system, escape from the system becomes a way to propose it again, and the idea to carve out on the poor image of the Hermit, only makes me feel chained to a destiny I guess, trying to escape I would not be just a card dealt from the deck of tarot cards ... among others. So? So no, I never said that my remarks today want to have a prophetic sense or would act as the prospect of an act or an act not, only the implementation language of the questions that today (and fortunately not many other day of the year), I embrace it.
Finally, just to celebrate the eternal return to the real inherent in wanting to escape my change-destroy-reference to what I read:

http://www.repubblica.it/2007/02/rubriche/bussole/ consent / consenso.html
http://www.repubblica.it/2008/09/sezioni/economia/crisi-mutui-6/crisi-mutui-6/crisi-mutui-6.html
http://www.repubblica .it/2008/09/sezioni/scienza_e_tecnologia/batterio-invincibile/batterio-invincibile/batterio-invincibile.html
http://www.repubblica.it/2008/09/sezioni/esteri/georgia/georgia/georgia .

html Greetings all.
(and this is perhaps the most sensible thing I said .... bah, in short, is today so, tomorrow I return to my usual mood)

People With Hiv Are Sick More Often

ASK scene?



This a drama workshop which will start in October at Piacenza, for more information, please contact me or better yet, call the conductor of the course (its number can be found in the bottom of the flyer).

How To Clean Whiteg Shock?

mental journeys

mental journeys

Sitting on the tram
try too much attention around.
betray convergences tantric

glances
stumbling on the edge of my
microcosm.

Meanwhile
the way of my inner
epicycle is already back near the tangent

transposed in my
transumanante friction.

He walks away, yet unknown, from my
embrace of consciousness.
interrupted the rhythmic pattern
down

from my thoughts.

Sin was really cool.

Palpitations Position Of Heart

Alarm

Alarm

Eyes encrusted
moments lost

fast-dripping from the flow of time-
to curse the clumsy strokes

zealous guardian of the day. Stubborn
presumptuous
squeaks his undaunted
scathing order
sgualdrinesco voices. While


vomiting foamy drool from the jaws

mixed flavor mint,

ground his teeth at the thought of that its electric hum

shattering impact
smashing and the eardrums of my memory

shortly.
term.
begin.
(day).

Denise Milani Or Similar

Fascism winding

The video has known and stranoto; sparked controversy not finish and, as usual, the gay world, or rather, Arcigay hath been outraged and launched the His fulminations against Sabina. It 's a well-known strategy that has been going on for more ... Arcigay the politics of terror, the victim at all costs and whining easy. Since it is only right for certain indignation things, far more indignation and count the arguments on this point must be said that the technical disclosure of certain associations (but certainly also the official media do not help) in water on all sides with the result that the entire movement passes the image a bunch of whining from the outset.

But we have to unravel the Gordian knot. Sabina says two things about Pride. The first is, in fact, incorrect. There was no shift of national pride from Rome to Bologna. These were separate events, the pride parade in Rome (which was not national pride) there has been and for that matter is not even true that the "question of Piazza San Giovanni" was accepted in silence from the whole movement (think of the fact that "we do breakthrough" has indeed taken even St Peter's Square with a banner far subdued, "the Vatican dealing Italy, we occupy the Vatican"). But if on this point Sabina made a mistake, partly justified by a few confused news that have been given the pride, on the point he's absolutely right.

And here's the real issue: the now infamous "Italian." When I heard what I said Sabina said: "No, it is impossible there must be a mistake ... I was the pride of Bologna and I do not think I saw anything like that." So I wander a bit 'on the internet and discovered that instead it is with disgust all true. Then I'm going to see the response that the lessons Arcigay Berlusconi and Bossi shouts to misunderstanding, says that Italy is a game, a joke (such as rifles boxwood or other colorful "metaphors" of right-wingers) and charge Guzzanti a mistake.

"surprised by the criticism of 'Italian' one of the many characters of the campaign BolognaPride just because they come from a comic, which should therefore know very well the mechanisms of ridicule, which passes through the reversal of the stereotype. Italo for us is the gay far-right can not solve the contradiction in an area of \u200b\u200bmilitary policy that gays and slaughters them be both in love with his comrade, then beat the Italian 'queer' because 'fag'.
'Italian' is a lunge to macho ideology that animates many balde 'skinheads', a spoof heavy limelight because of the stereotypes 'virilissimo' fascist. Sabina Guzzanti
managed to misunderstand this, claiming erroneously that there were Italian flags on stage, but above all by saying that the use of Italian was directly related to the will of pride not to take anti-fascist positions. "
http://www.bolognapride.it/2008/07/10/no-cav-day/
# more-355 (Committee organizer Pride Bologna 2008)

This response Arcigay, now why not take a look at the Italian comrade?

quote here the words of the full wheel (if you have trouble reading)

"Being male means to beat, especially gays, against a lot better if, for the honor male must be defended. Then if you feel that your Saturday night, CasaPound, the concert of your favorite team nazirock the sight of your comrade shirtless excite you, tell you that it does not matter, because both you and he are comrades, and then you can not be a fag because you do not feel "sensitive", not clothes, do not listen to Madonna. "

Its creator (left tied to a neo-fascist forum Casapound also shows how indymedia: http://emiliaromagna.indymedia.org/node/3070 ) argues in response the victim of prejudice and the accusation of anti-fascists be the first to be intolerant.

"publicly condemn this choice, forcing me to experience high personal attacks just because I broke the taboo of dialogue with the enemy is not very different from the ancestral to the streets burning books put to the index."
http://www.queerblog.it/post/3624/bologna-pride-il-creatore-di-italo-si-difende
(the letter of Mr. Lorenzo Griffi Q)

I would say that there are enough elements to understand how things really are. The real problem is the policy of inclusion that the total Arcigay always wants to promote (I wonder if there are far more venal motives in the case ).... we must not take sides politically everyone should be able to find in Arcigay etc. the matter is that when you accept everything the opposite of everything you play at the tightrope becomes a simple empty and devoid of a soul (in the most secular term). Responding to Mr Q I would like to note that the sentences he uttered on the forum membership vivamafarka seem to indicate more than a simple "curiosity", but even apart from what I say, for me it's true, I am intolerant, but only to those who prove to be systematically and with the help of violence do little more than the riperpetrare patterns of thought that the "different" (whatever that is) should be considered inferior. For me this second motion to be really consistent should fight not only against discrimination regarding him closely, but against any discrimination, because there is nothing more odious than a "victim" who do you turn "executioner "Adagio and making his own, among other things, the same" culture "(if it can be called) that condemns him.

In conclusion I fully share the view that post-Fascist Assembly of Bologna

"Let's say there Italo. We have to be Italian to Gay Pride. And let's say a week after Italy and his comrades go to" beat "not plus the "fags", but others: friends, immigrants, chiunque.Sarebbe acceptable? We think not. "

( http://assembleantifascistabologna.noblogs.org/ )

Here is the live video of 99posse regurgitation fascist "

Medic Alert Lockets For Women

The horror of the vacant doctor


Yes, now be included in one of those who after having sweated blood on the books now look to the future with fear and a healthy dose of apprehension. Celebrations postponed ... During these days are frantic to find a way forward, I seem to be at the mercy of an unknown current while digging in the network and between the bureaucratic requirements to the discovery of a competition for a doctorate. I am leaning on my crystal ball telematics (my pc) ready to try to grasp the contours of a possible future that emerges from the milky sap of this uncertainty, but even the Pythia I could help (even if the leaves lanceolate moves carved by wind and its cryptic sentences may suit my mood).
Fixed Points there are, if not the ones you have as limits beyond which you just can not overcome even by gargantuan effort and the feeling that comes over me is to be one of those tragic heroes who are preparing to fight against the immeasurable. Well, if nothing else, in case of defeat, I could still enjoy the taste that I cut him a mask Alfieri even Sophocles. It matters little that I do not have to do with prophetic predictions, my monsters are no less frightening than the mythology ... Here's senseless cuts the university took the current government (a look of the Republic Article: http://www.repubblica.it/2008/06/sezioni/scuola_e_universita/servizi/scuola-2008-uno/ universita-agitata/universita-agitata.html ) go hand in hand with another terrible monster that I will have to overcome: the recommendation. Very few people, many of which are "reserved" for those who count .... I'm not afraid of challenges and I am quite convinced of my training (and, actually, not just me), but when you are asked to play a game of "rigged" you can not help but feel a bit 'dubious and dejected ... In short, I must say, I'd gladly change with the hydra of Hercules ...
So is not nothing but follow the directions of the Cheshire Cat and learn the art of walking on a thousand roads schizophrenic while in the hope that if the jets are so many that you love, sooner or later something edible bite. In conclusion
post a video of Max Cosmic "thousand € blues," though in reality my situation could be even more precarious ...

Kamehasutra Doujin French

September 5, 1938, the day was passed the first of the "racial laws" in Italy (for those interested I will leave some more news on this decree in the comments) .
Yes this is the date I am referring to and unfortunately still today, but particularly today, it seems to me far too close.

I imagine the easy criticism that might make it the opening words of my post: Fascism is past, the present situation is completely otherwise, my position is just a typical left-wing populist ...
In fact I will not answer to these objections because I feel silly as much as those who move, I'll just take a look at some recent events and to suggest connections with the past because if it is true that you must enter each event in its historical context without So to force it out of its chronological limits, but it is also true that we think that the past is completely unknown means reducing history to a simple fable, ignoring the essential lessons, just as it means not to understand that certain dynamics can reproduce in a similar way in different times when they are still the underlying causes.

The facts are really known, but I must talk about it because my silence would result in a repulsive silent assent and would make me feel complicit.
I am not referring here to single episodes of violence against the Roma, in itself deplorable, but the even more serious justification that they seem to receive under the proposed new law.
Have not you realize what is discriminatory and unconstitutional to consider the aggravating hiding? If all are equal before the law, how is it possible for the same offense, there are two weights and two measures, a more lenient when it is committed by an Italian citizen and higher if one is to perpetrate an illegal immigrant? Is it not this a form of discrimination and the worst? What's more, after the crime of illegal immigration, and Ronde Lega now it turns out the proposed Maroni to fingerprint all Roma! abberrante and terrifying, can not but bring to mind what happened in Italy at other times ominous ... To be honest I can not even comment despite my initial intention was to, on the other hand, these facts are eloquent enough in itself for those who have a minimum of brain ... well, at least this time, I just take note of the situation and to express my disagreement and my disgust. On top
post to find the video of a song by Caparezza "I come from the moon", below you will find a scene from "Gypo", a fantastic film which also deals with LGBT issues of intolerance against the Roma.

My Mother's Nylon Feet

Today 1938 Tricks Of Writing

Hello to everybody, today I finally print the final version of the thesis, so I'll have a little 'more time to devote to the Blog!

I feel ready for almost a metaphorical Lazarus back to life .... eheheh ... However, the new association MINU offers as its first initiative in Piacenza, a creative writing workshop to LGBT issues.

The purpose of minute is to address the diversity of various cultures to establish a fruitful dialogue between the different perspectives that lead to discover the richness of differences. We intend to draw a path so that it deals with the ethnic diversity, disability and multifaceted continuum of generi.La included in our first initiative is a way to combine the theoretical elaborations of the participants and their experiences through the techniques of creative writing. For those interested in the workshop will be held in Piacenza at our office on June 20-21-22, while on the bed ensure reasonable prices. For any information on how to reach us please use the contact writings the bottom of the flyer, or ask me directly.

Greetings todos.

How Long Does Listerine

KALEIDOSCOPE 10 - Conclusion?

Gabriel smiled at mo 'goodbye, closed the door behind him step by step and kept walking. D *** A *** reread the last sentence he had written, and then laid down his pen and looked toward the door where his nephew Gabriel had just left.
"Keep smiling son," he said.
Finish.

------------------------------------------------ ------------------------

At the end we are at home. Passed
; deleterious day, starting from the funeral, few people, some family and some colleagues uncomfortable, it can be well say that they came more for themselves than anything else, the self-imposed form of morality .... nothing wrong, after all, was how the implementation of a corporate strategy: functional to achieve its objective, it does not matter that it was some kind of financial transaction, or rather (as in this case) the possibility of blissful sleep tonight ..... fulfill a social role conventionally made them feel some better, even now they had made useful to the company / companies.
I watched them while they were lining up to extend my condolences to Gabri, employees seemed to me that they were going to have a punch, but I could not tell me nothing .... in truth I was not very different from them, I was there to perform a function.
Gabriel was still very shaken, on the other hand he had found the body of his father, Michele .... apparently a heart attack. The next day had past history do not know what to write for the death of his father, to me seemed a good idea, even though the story seemed to me un'indigesta and heavy jumble of thoughts without rhyme or reason, but this off she would not confess even under torture.
Every now and then touched her hand, he turned and tried to smile, his eyes were shiny, his hair soft, and embraced him during his funeral bouquet teased my imagination, I had an erection .... Eros and Thanatos .... no, I was not different from those other people .....


I leave the bathroom, he's lying in his underwear, clapping him on the mattress, a few moments and we find ourselves naked on the bed, I savor a kiss, I close my eyes, I remember our first kiss that night in a farm ...



There was a concert by a friend of mine, someone had submitted a part of me shuddered ... his smile had dissolved the world around me and I revel in uneven perceptions "Back-Luke" I was only able to say that the language seemed to stumble on every syllable.
I, terrified, upset, I wanted to steal that smile and hold it in your pocket to be able to gaze furtively wherever I went.
During the concert I did not see more, lost in the crowd of people dancing. A few beers later I had lost hope to meet him again, a bit 'sadly I was heading to the fields to piss.
The lights of the farmhouse behind me, music is now weak.
lying on the grass I see a shadow, sometimes dissipated from a solid color .... cadenced fire, it almost seems to have its own rhythm.
The shadow slowly turns and smiles at me
"Want a hit?" eyes were accustomed to the darkness, I admit, he is the man as he turned I saw her smile so blooming in the moonlight, I remember thinking at the flowers that bloom in the evening. I sit beside him, talking for a while ', our faces are close, I can feel the caress of his breath on my neck when he turns to me. The lips are close slowly. The kiss. Suddenly I feel all over again, the wet grass beneath me, the rustle of clothes, the faint smell of beer in his kiss. It was a kiss dirt. The most savored with a taste for this. We detach slowly. I get close to his ear and whisper: "I have stolen a breath, but you can resume whenever you want," she laughs, looks at me incomprehensible, "Look who I want it back with interest ...."
I take one of his hands in mine and me to his lips. The moonlight illuminates small ink smudging. He notices my eyes .... "Sperm is" he laughs, I remain somewhat perplexed .... "The ink is the sperm of the writers ".... Perhaps this time is the right one .... is my last thought, then I let my hands continue their scavenger hunt ...





... mumble creaking of the bed, then a fire inside, his back in an arc voltage, I rise on him, the body is sweating, my muscles contract before relaxing as a wave after the transition, I lay me down softly, our fingers are intertwined.
Gabriel gets astride me, her sheets writhing on the ground in a bad way; clothes scattered around the room seem to trace the steps of a broken frozen choreography at its finest ... a deeper breath, I am on the chest. Yes
was just a fucking twelve-tone.
He bends to kiss me, I passed a hand on his chest, his fingers dripping watch "How many people have abortions spreading throughout This special?" ride enough to get us two or three novels I would say "we hug .... the light veil of his beard tickles my forehead, his novels m'invischiano the body .... is just right before I fall asleep ....

Precisionscan Ltx Sorry Scanner Initialized

Musicology gay

I happened recently to leggiucchiare on the site of the atom. (Homosexual themes Association) a post on the relationship between music and homosexuality.

http://piacenzagay.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-video-della-settimana.html

A post which rightly complained about the banality is dealt with homosexual identity in the Italian cultural scene (see Tatangelo). I admit, however, have found the video of trivial Levi Kreis ("we are ok") as a positive example instead led ... Uhmmm is true that "de gustibus non est disputandum", but frankly it seemed a bit 'not a backstreet boys .... eheheheh I would say that we have a boy-band too well without further sickly sweet songs! Then I thought of posting some videos alternative answer. The comments also will post the lyrics.

Vista criptolesbica my nature started by a song ("Adrenaline") which is a collaboration of the MAB with the fantastic Giuni Russian ... I find that the music is very interesting with the transition from the harsh sounds of typical hard rock vocal virtuosity of the Mab Giuni .... the text is pretty cool and then rips the veil of standardization of eros that society offers us. So I leave you to shake "adrenaline" of these miraculous maidens so you can sing with them, "my system is tired of eroticism white!"

The second video is of Franz Ferdinand but the song is "Michael" and describes a homosexual encounter in a disco, then dedicated this "beautiful boy on a beautiful dancefloor." The video really is not much, but the text is great, if you know a little 'English you read in the comments.

The last video that I propose for today is that of a famous song by Electric Six "Gay Bar" where you see the gay version of Abraham Lincoln that calls the listener to follow him to gay bars because , says, "I've got something to put in you ..." hahaha it is hilarious, enjoy.

Answering Machine Opening Times

KALEIDOSCOPE 09 - Silence




A flourish of his hand to put aside thoughts after you hung up the phone. The pendulum
whispers that have the time available.
strange coincidence it had to feel right now. When I decided I could not remember the day that I should go see him .... or maybe I chose this day to have an excuse to not visit ... would be fun, almost paradoxical ...
... That's enough jokes, you have to think about serious things, his voice, the voice of D *** A ***, the voice of my father, should not be the last ...
I have to fix it. In
room should still be cassettes - melancholy smile - those on which to record the words to give my body to compose poems.
A quick touch to the front door in the passage. Open. Perfect. Recorder on the desk and leaned heavily in his hands one of the many boxes in his room, a look at the date ... 7 years ago, should work. Ultimately that is the other one.
- Michele moves the chair by the desk and sits down with his back entrance -
- With the hand feels the jacket -... the bag is in place.
reviewed in mind the list of things she had to do ... nodded thinking that the letter had already sent a couple of hours earlier.
Well, now that things were in place practices could begin.
She brought the papers to him, he wanted Gabriele saw ... turned on the recorder - Tump - these ... awakened from its lethargy snorted, cried, scatarrò out a voice.
He heard her voice, a voice heavy weight of the powder of seven years, beginning with the date and then he left blank a moment, then he announced the title ... In fact here is: "Silence" the voice of his mind this echoed that of his past, I ... no, do not remember this.
waited a few moments waiting to begin, then the moments when it became too much frowned and after he rewound the tape again invariably repeated the same sequence of sounds, as had been planned.
... But of course, silence, hour recall, at that time far more fascinated by the silence of words, another strange coincidence, perhaps too many, the thought of his letter and then sat on the chair more comfortable and continued to listen to silence while the shadow of Gabriel, who had continued to fix it since he sat down he began to speak:


Shadow: Funny how the words bounce between ourselves, those same words that came out that we seem not to want to return us to those sounds which we are deaf, but that claim to be heard by the other ... being accepted by others.
possible that the only real communication with oneself is constituted by what appears to be the negation of the communication?
possible that what is commonly represented as an inconsistency, insuperable barrier between speaker and listener is actually the only thread that connects the souls ... the souls of our own and I with the other, or rather with the images of the souls of others who are in our own me?
possible that where the truth finally spoken fail triumphs but the Truth, that Truth does not need to be expressed, and that even if explicitly betrays itself and becomes something other than, and therefore non-truth? Truth that requires only the silence to be educated? (That is rediscovered in our own mind, the image the soul that we have in our souls and no idea of \u200b\u200bour mind or we think that we want other souls, the souls of others have.)
The Silence ... if all else is futile, why not just listen ... ... .... .... ...
Idea: Perhaps because everything else is useless: it is what is reality and then our being.
Shadow: I do not think the rest is perhaps not only our way of being as such?
Idea: can possibly be given without BEING the way it is?
Shadow: Not in reality, not in this reality that is constituted by the rest from non-silence, from the bay.
Idea: You tipping the concepts, for you become vain and abstraction of the concrete foundation of the very silence, the silence only allowing you admit humans only what is common to all men and because universal human needs no words to express it.
Shadow: So why is and should be only that which is universal for all can be the foundation of what is predicable of all men there.
That is the essence of man, the only part of which should be taken into account.
Idea: Assume also that it is as you say, you're ready to lose yourself? Because what makes you such is not the existence which is common to all, what characterizes you and you have made is what you call in vain.
Shadow: I'm ready to lose myself if it means to take the existence and essence, if not my own, of all things.
Idea: So you're ready to deny the thoughts that brought you to this concept and, ultimately, you are ready to give up on this same concept of your existence?
Shadow: .... .... .... .... .... ....
Idea: This concept that you have is itself part of what defines space, it is not universal, so much so that you needed to put into words, and you can say that in expressing them in contradicting the fact ... it is because you are made this way and in anyone else that you could take this idea, and now, because this idea says that only the most essential and important because it makes itself manifest as peculiar and then inessential, for all those reasons you're ready to cancel too along with all the "vain"?
Shadow: ..... ...... ....... ....... ....
Idea: But if you do not want / can, bring it to its logical conclusion, consistent with itself, erasing it, that you can not put it down gently as something fragile and precious to your shoulders with the other things that have lived and passed and make some progress in the knowledge that this progress, this thy become something other than what they were before though still yourself, is also due to what you've been.
The result is due to a foundation, and, as the first not the second, they may not even be totally different.
Shadow: You're telling me to leave the forgotten silence?
Idea: I'm saying that silence is as important as what is not silence.
Shadow: So it's decided: Silence does not utter words in silence, but I'll do it in my words that there are echoes of the unspoken Silence and silences that speak the words my soul.
Nasty Words of unspoken words and silences filled with meaningful hints.


Gabriel smiled, smiled and walked a few steps.

Where Is Cody Of Corbin Fisher

Tummy Ache election

The die is cast, the elections are over and we find ourselves with the Italian government that we deserve. Nothing to say, are basically the rules of democracy, and Italy is clearly shifted to the right. Just a moment to reflect on the paradoxes of history to understand that Count Camillo Benso di Cavour, the father of history right on certain issues (one in all, a secular state), was much more to the left of the Democratic Party veltroni. We must therefore arm ourselves with pragmatism and face the reality that elections are not won in Italy with his head, but with the belly, with the portfolio and with the image. We can say that we already knew, after all, because "hardened paunch", to quote Dante, voter average face is easily influence by flattery and the fabled promise of greater wealth, as well as the bogeymen of "different" playing on the irrational and evoked self-preservation instinct that is triggered when you are faced with hazards are real or imaginary. It is not nothing new if it's true what they say Guicciardini centuries ago, the Italians are forgotten before the death of his father that the loss of the portfolio.

But that left some of my snobbery does not help to resolve the situation, it is useless to shut themselves up in their ivory tower dispensing with contemptuous arrogance looks at the world around us as if we did not live in that same world. Similarly explaining, as Diliberto, the failure of the left, and I refer specifically to the dramatic collapse of the left rainbow, by reducing everything to the lack of the hammer and sickle symbol, it means only show not to be able to do a basic policy analysis. Then now that the project of the PDCI, according to Diliberto, should be to reconnect and return to that political ritch (exact words) was interrupted in 1984 with the death of Berlinguer, I think it's crazy and it becomes clear indication of myopia that does not allow the political elite of Italian society to understand anything now. The causes of the defeat, in my opinion, are well other. First and foremost, of course, the support given to the outgoing government without this commitment be matched by the implementation of any of the reforms that the left had to be spokesman. Second, even if they are structurally more important, the impression that the new unitary subject was disorganized and unprepared. Certainly his birth was a necessary response to the road taken by Veltroni, but has always remained the feeling that you were chasing a goal not just heard. Thus, even the program, I feel that reflected the role of "civic consciousness" of centrist parties that the left has found itself in the last decade (for reference only to what I experienced first hand). Full of ideas interesting and (from my point of view) fully agree with the ethical values \u200b\u200band of those, the program left the rainbow But it lacked the requisite organic and economic pragmatism. That is to say that it was just the ideal plan, but did not propose a very solid and achievable plan that would ensure governability. This is not criticism of a vote or a voter who knows what liberal political force ... I voted left rainbow and I do not regret doing it but how do those who are always ready to abandon the boat of losers at the first signs of storm. This does not mean she can not criticize their choices, with constructive ends, of course. After all even too often they are leftists are ready to cite Marx as if it were gospel (plus local and national level, it is true), but I'm an atheist in every sense and does not replace an icon with another deifying the thought of a man, however acute, did an analysis based on the situation of his time (I only remember that the capital was published in 1867 !!!!!). So it makes no sense to me to be accused of being a reformist, not to be a Communist or who knows what else, it seems that everything depends on the terms, if mean communist who slavishly follows the "doctrine" and that Marx's economic thought that in the Capital there is a magic recipe for the economic situation of any historical period, well then they are not actually communist because I believe that Marx's thought can give some interesting yes, but no concrete answers to the needs of the present.

What then is the solution? Well, here falls ass and I with it. I admit that I still have the ideas clear enough to answer this, I just here trying to make sense of what has happened, the critical reflection is just the first step, but it is an essential starting point to rebuild something that really makes sense. Of course, the immediate thing to do I think it groped more local roots, act locally so decided and be receptive to the needs of a world that, as a bit 'musty and repetitive (as evidenced by the Berlusconi III), it is just frozen up positions imperishable, because, as Galileo said ..... "And yet it moves." (Hopefully for the better)

Chemotherapy On Lupus

KALEIDOSCOPE 08 - The morality of a Blasphemer

been two days of fact ...." "I can not sleep, just close my eyes I am overwhelmed by the muffled sound of the shot, the newspapers still no trace of'.... to anything .... My Eva decided that it is better to get away for a while 'we packed up in haste and now we are on the bus to the train ..... I do not remember what our goal, she told me, but not listened to .... I heard only the distant sound of gunfire. Before leaving my cat with a worried look I took her face in her hands and told me to stay calm, still nothing happened ..... That may be true, but my nothing is filled by that phrase .... the last written by the man.
"Gabriel smiled again, but the smile is cracked."
again Gabriel. The circle closes, and my thoughts go back to their origin.
The couple in front of me is off the bus, I see a nun. Normally I would look away, but not now. I can not help but observe his features relaxed, freed from guilt, almost free from the oppression of their actions ... the I envy that. I wonder if there really is no God to answer for their actions.
Absurd.
Unthinkable. I feel
canceled, I have the temptation to bring your knees to your chest and hiding his face ... already: a fetal position, but I can not get back to basics.
My innocence is lost, and if it finds her, her innocence would be irretrievably lost.
... Or maybe not?
Yet it is inconceivable that it can be ... if when I killed that person I was absolutely indifferent, now ... now that if I could give my life to make his potergli ... now I hate to have him killed for asking me to do it, because now I am crushed by myself ... candor that can be in this hatred?
attention back to the nun, the features are always soft, almost seraphic smile, but ... there is something different than before I had not noticed.
There is a kind of imperfection, of cracks in its most brazen aura of holiness ... I could not describe it ...
And if I were to project on her quell'imperfezione that is only mine? Perhaps out of envy, or because they feel that otherwise I could not even support his view?
No, I read the same shade in the gentleman who fumbles awkwardly with the newspaper careful not to lose balance in my "Eve" and also that other Gabriel, what fell from the bus, I recognize as characteristic of their being.
possible that this is the shadow of human weakness that is projected on the corners of our faces, our gestures ... of our words?
And the nun, the holy myrrh "(as I have always considered profanely), her daughter and spouse of God, sin, yet claimed by his" holiness "is still palpable.
I am reminded of the words of my mother ... can not be, I keep banging my face against the fragile texture of memories ... broken chipped memories ... and sharp splinters are pierced. I look again
the soror plump and ruddy-faced .... only now I realize that it seems fake .... plastic .... its thin film was torn and his calmness is monstrous because I now I realize it's only a priori self-persuasion of being right ... the meaning of his actions is drowned in the din of the triumphal march of a presumed single unshakeable truth. The disregard for their actions makes serene think only with a meter that is not his to relax, everything is reduced to a simple pattern that can not hear themselves and behind the mask from his face sleeping sister is dumb.
No, not hiding myself that I will have an answer .... rather than bear the responsibilities will make me more honest with my self. What nonsense
ruining his life with his own hands! I just have to stay quiet so the police will never find me. This sentence pronounced in the mind of a murderess should be accompanied by a feeling of relief, but ...
... it seems to me only to wear the same cloak of hypocrisy that I have never accepted.
So in reality it is clear what I should do ... I do not want to choke me forget what I did, I have to deal with it.
... So maybe I should be ....
Suddenly the roar of the city is silent, the world around me disappears roars like a bubble bursting.
There is only the secular moralistic voice of my conscience. All around
: ........ ....... ...... ...... Silence.

Chikan In Bus And Train

KALEIDOSCOPE 07 - Hic et Nunc





The door is open as agreed.
I sincerely hope that it is not ... would no longer be depended on my will, I would not have had to choose, and the conditions were not those the defendants, maybe the man had changed his mind, I'd be back in the car pretending to be irritated ... she really was, but not with me, in a couple of days then would pass .- sigh-... but the door is unquestionably open and his evidence seems to accuse me of not having courage in the end she had convinced me not? ... Maybe I just think its possible reaction to my refusal, the money does not really interest me that much. Some
step is lost in a dusty silence. The door makes a feeble squeak. Stopped abruptly. The man sits and gives me back, just as he said the other, unaware of my presence, unaware of my intentions - cold sweat - and if he had heard ... the squeak I mean .... sure the other man has assured me that there would be no problems, but how can he be sure? ... And if you then suddenly turned, perhaps a trifle, perhaps to take a cassette tape player as there is on the table, or something to go to the bathroom or get a glass of water ... So, then I would scream and if and if it ran to call - First Police, help! There is an armed stranger in my house! -...?
I feel the heart beating in my throat, my heart already, that this man would stop soon ... drums into the abyss ... drumming dumb because without someone who sounds.
Just now I decided, well, she has decided for me, but, in any way to question that decision now would take a more difficult in the near future ... Leopardi ... can not decide who never returns to its decisions do not have to take yet ... maybe he was right, however now I started well and bring everything to fruition.



Michele listened to the silence and listening to the silence you feel many things: the soft creak of a door, stealthily crossing of the entrance, almost felt his breath ... the breath of the boy. He was almost ready; fixed 'Gabriel, who was smiling from his papers.
He heard a phrase "Michael ... Gabriel, who is killing you! "
Then, only then Michele smiled heartily. He heard a muffled sound ... the gun with silencer ... understatement.
Thoughts approaching death are more rapid, whirling, buzzing, crumble into a heavy rain of ideas, feelings not yet linked.
And if torn from the agony of an instant flow of time, ... last very long if that moment - stealth - I crumpled in my pocket ... and if in those thousand, one hundred and more moments that could have been but were not (or will be, if you prefer) reigned / perish the here and now incontrovertibly?
Yes, because in these fractions of a second that I'm living before I die ... monad in this time torn by time (from the rest of the time) is substantializes the here and now, only then to be able to expand indefinitely, a here and now that expands filling the infinite duration of this time is no longer a tiny portion of time, become detached from it all the time, eternity is crystallized in a stillness that can not be said that will endure as it may mean the becoming of its time, but And that 'in my time, not absolute perceived by others.
Maybe now that split, the "eternal revolutions" in shards raining down from heaven, so this is a time that is eternal here and now between life and death that is actualized the only possible immortality of the soul.
It's fun to think about his own death as he becomes conscious of the eternity of the moment you are living ... but these are only thoughts again ... So I fell like a dead body falls.



- The man is slumped on the desk in front of which sat -.
is dead ... is dead, there is no pulse: it is dead. No more of this word expresses the presence of the void. I just feel the cold, I see my body do things almost automatically, I look at everything without seeing. I raise my body down (his time) and pulled the envelope from his jacket, the one in which there are the rest of the money .. that guy was telling me that I would find there, and even though I felt was something not very sensible, the bag is real. I do look at the courage and face.
smile, smile ... I do not understand ... is, is the man who had commissioned me ... I will stop without the strength to even pronounce the name in the mind of that action which I have also had the courage (or rather, cowardice) to accomplish. Funny how sometimes the words of the things they fear most.
And that sentence? Why he asked me to pronounce that phrase before shooting?
No, I did not do it! Go, go, gotta go away! In turning round the eye falls on the sheets on the desk, the papers on which man has collapsed, the victim and instigator.
sheets are full, but there is a single sentence written obsessively repeated: "Gabriele smiles. "
Only the paper that the dead man still held in his hand looks different, this time the phrase is not repeated and there is once wrote: "Gabriel smiled again, but the smile is cracked."

Impetigo Dogs Treatment

Beating Death

beats / beats
only the rain beats

just the rain that continues
beats / beats / beat
not feel the rain
beats / beats
beats / drum beats
/ death on
broken gutters
Bat-Bat / voyages ...
.... death.

Butal Apap 325 Caff Tab Mlk Com

KALEIDOSCOPE 06 - Memories (Mirror Dating)

Yes, I am sure that guy has Gabriel called no doubt ... Gabriel, the name haunted me ever since ... ... then why the man chose that name for his death?
No, actually I do not care at all, only now the name will be carved into the living flesh of my consciousness for a perpetual memory of what I did.
wonder if the guy before me was an Gabriele as it was not me, even if only for a moment ... maybe, he clung to his companion as if its still, as I am to mine, although I was drowning quest'ancora preventing me to swim ...
is pulled off by the boy's eyes, looks around, seems surprised to be on the bus.
She stares at me. It seems is shaking, maybe my view reminds him of himself too. Go look at the haste with her boyfriend. Imperceptibly around the face to my left. The
we can get ... my woman ... Eva my hate, and yet even now I feel pleasure in feeling the warmth of her body, just like that morning ...




sheets ... Numbness ... warm body clinging to (his) tight grip of tender meat, the blockade of the will (my, my will).
can not move, her face angry about that. I do not feel, I can only see his lips before waving: full-bodied growl of languid forms .- -. I piss. I'll wait he wakes up. I do not like to wait smile .- -. The blow up in your ear. What a funny wrinkled her nose ...
... Awakening and Breakfast: the usual.
It seems that a fly has annoyed the morning, continued to rest on its ear.
It's time to mount a mosquito net. I agree with you, smiling.
Approaches sly. Of course with the money for that job today ... meow. Why, why ruin the moment! Silly kitty! Intelligent eyes, you know immediately and remedied. Suggests a picture: she dressed only in a veil of mosquito netting wrapped. The pout is shattered. I broke a smile on his face. Alas, I fear that she will have won. Talk about anything else. He takes away the prey! The kitten has made her nails and has become lioness. Lioness on the hunt, following the antelope from a distance, expected to be alone, helpless, ignorant and zap the grabs.
Here, I find myself already hugging her while devouring my will with ravenous kisses. He has not yet won. Missing the final blow, decisive blow.
"You know that your photo is on the cabinet?" Sure that the memory, but it is better to buy time.
"What?" "But, that's when I was 5, my darling with her pretty dress and her face sullen ..." is what I mean: I was forced to go to Mass, I did not want, I already knew where he wants to end up. - Nod - "... You were lovely even then my little rebellious. And I also remember the story told me ... "
Yeah, I did not want to go to church, I still remember. Funny story of a logical deduction (or so I thought then) a child of 5 years.
Sera. News. They speak of the Pope had to be done everything he said the Pope So I had heard from his grandmother in a crash of the other cars - 50 dead and 300 wounded - (not that they make much sense to me those numbers and words, but TV news kept saying something to an accident, or so it seemed).
I raise my head and wonder why. "For what sweetie Grandma? "I answer questions in a face that then was not so rough, but I can not imagine not shooting, almost melted. One side of melted cheese, and yes, even smell.
"Why should I do as the Pope says?". - Smile soft -. "But because he is like the father of all." (That's why they call Papa !!!). Shocked I leave the scene of the accident, so it will stop someone to call an ambulance.
smiling face, soft tits: mom.
and dad? .... Now I'm two ... too complicated, better ask your mother. Cassock flapping. I hang and shoot. He is waving his grandmother. "Greet Grandma, too, from a kiss. Bravo. "- Granny goes -. "What did you want cupid?" "Mom, how many children does the Pope have?"
- Ride - "No, the Pope is the servant of God, can not have children, as for the sisters ... you remember, I explained I had when you saw the nun with the bump and you asked me if I'm pregnant ... "I told my grandmother that I was wrong. But now I had a new itch. "Why the Pope is the servant of God? Because God wants servants? "" No, not servants in the sense of slaves but as children of God "Even God has children then ... "Who are the children of God?" "We all are, even children who do pranks like you "" Even the nuns? "" Yes, all, because now not return to play with toy cars? "I nodded my head and pretend to play. But if the sisters are the brides of Christ (my mother told me), then that is God, as I understand, how can they be his daughters? Then I know that when you marry a stork comes to leave a baby in the belly of his wife, so if the sisters are the wives of the sons of God must have ... but they told me they do not have them ...
... It was then that I decided it was easier that God does not exist: too many inconsistencies, too many constraints, too many complications to believe in its existence and then in the end I had not ever seen mica.
... So I would not go to church.
"... Remember, you said convinced that God did not exist; Give yourself a slap and you ripromettesti not to get more influence by the" moral law of God ", there is no God to answer for our actions." I smile, though I would cry, took me about where she is now just a matter of time ... "It may well be, but consciousness must always be accountable." "Consciousness is just another red herring, but also admit that no, why would you have regrets about this job? You've also heard what you said that man the other man: he is an abject, would you a favor to humanity, and then my darling you'd like an ancient hero who frees the world from evil, my hero, my everything "
Brava suonatrice of souls, not What can I say, knows all the scores (at least my)
"Yes, at the risk of ending up like Brutus to liberate Rome from the tyranny that has passed down to posterity with a reputation as nothing short of disgraceful and then, you know, not you are very comfortable to be chewed for eternity from the jaws of Lucifer, in the company of Judah and ......" "Bullshit!" - The pussycat blows and interrupts my show of erudition Dante - "You are not never matter what you think most people, and you never believed these otherworldly shit, do not pretend to begin to interest now! "" Ok, but what value can have the opinion of a person who wants another dead, as I can just thinking to believe him? "" It has the same value as the word of those who take even consider his proposal, no, no, do not argue, do not say that there are thinking, the money we need, we need damn it! "
pussycat scratch on the heart ... ... partly right.

Nurses Belts And Buckles

KALEIDOSCOPE 05 - In-schizophrenic



Gabriel smiled. Gabriele smiled heartily. It was the first time he smiled and did not know why he did not know nothing, could not have even define what a smile was asked if they had daughters, he simply continued to smile.
Gabriel smiled. Gabriele smiled for the second time. He smiled to himself, smiled to his Shadow replied with a serious nod of the head, then smiled at the idea of \u200b\u200bhimself, but not his; Gabriel, who has the idea of \u200b\u200bits author, the idea of \u200b\u200bGabriel Michael hates the idea greeted him with a wink and a hint of light.
Gabriele smiled a third time. Gabriel smiled at Michael and the author then decided to hate even more the idea that his character had. Michele Gabriele
answered firmly supported the pen at the table and letting the character frozen smile on his third.
Michele, with her eyes looking downward, with an eye on the desk beneath him, with an eye to the sheets on the desk below him a sidelong glance at the figure who emerges from the words written in the paper on the desk below him ... ... Michele thought.
was thinking of Gabriel, or at least believed, really believed the idea of \u200b\u200bGabriel, who had the idea that an author has his character, never the character, and if they like him is never quite the same as him because, well, let me tell you, they know the characters always surprise their authors.
know that at the very moment when a character comes to life already differs from what it was before (the idea of \u200b\u200bhimself in the mind of the author), the existence brings him a change, a continuous change that will accompany it 's taking it away from instant to instant route path for him.
But these are just thoughts.
chipped fragments of thoughts.
crystals thoughts interrupted by an annoying sound, repetitive, almost petulant.
Michael is annoyed.
- A first ring greets him -
... The phone, there is a tangible demonstration of that world.
would almost want to break it by throwing it against the wall, hoping that the elimination of evidence of the existence of the world eliminate even the world itself.
- A second ring sounds fearful - (telefonuccio poor little frightened)
useless to do so, there are many other tests and if it were to eliminate all should destroy everything in the world and that it is ....
... after all even himself.
- Third ring with a note of apprehension mixed with reproach -
was him. Yes, Michael was sure, could not be him, only that person did the phone ring like that, with all others (or at least with those who called him) sent the phone rings formal, indifferent.
- Fourth Ring: A mortally wounded animal that howls help - lightning
A thought: never trust a wolf, even if wounded.
He wanted to make him wait a little longer ', at least one more phone call or two, but it was the fourth and the fifth after he missed.
- sigh -
Lift the handset by placing all of a sudden end, as with a sharp shot, the suffering of the wolf. Instinctively look to the running calendar on the wall opposite.
Some sheets that claims to represent the time. Some dates underlined. One day circled today. One day circled in pencil, with a light stroke, almost invisible, almost as to be autoconvincere had not seen the date.
Yet from that day on suspicion of invisibility immediately obvious in the midst of all the other signatures, underlining ... shone his immaculate just scar scarred by the impalpable, the tract in pencil.
"Hello Michael" "Hello, pa ', I was going to call you to tell you that I can not come." "Oh, sorry, you're not sick right?" "No, no pa' I'm fine, it's just a matter of work, You know how I did ... if it is not okay ... "" Yeah, I know ... "
knowledge. A word from turning over in his mind as a polished stone in his hands ...
gaze falls on the sheets on the desk.


Shadow of Gabriel becomes serious and looking at the idea of \u200b\u200bGabriel begins to speak.
Shadow: knowledge.
Idea: Knowing something
Shadow: know.
Idea: It's not ignore.
Shadow: Ignore
Idea: is what is not knowledge
Shadow: Ultimately I can not define knowledge if not by itself ... I can not even claim to know the words I say!


"But promise me you will come to see me next week, is already the third time that you're not." "Yes, come, you sure of that."


Shadow: You give too many things for granted, you will create a world based on the certainty that they are as such only because conventional!
Idea: may well be, but you, strictly speaking, not that you doubt your own uncertainty, unless you believe that your question is the same certainty, but if so it should not have too purely conventional? However, failure to express a term does not mean not being able to understand it.


"Hey Michael, are you listening to me?" Eh pa '? Sorry I was lost in thought, did you say something? "
" No, nothing, no matter "


Shadow: But who tells you that the same term, the same" something ", not" inclusive "in different ways depending on each person who understands him?
Idea: is inevitable, I think, because communication is gaining a degree of uncertainty, but uncertainty is relative, is a diversity of meanings that is directly proportional to the diversity of each human being, and it is this plurality of meanings that shows the richness of language.
But that same something can also be understood in the same way by different people, not for their being different, but for their being equal, between different people, however there is always something of the same, at least in the existence ... at least in humans.
said that the Shadow and the idea looked in the direction of Gabriel, who smiled at them.


"Well Michael, I salute you, so I'll leave you to your work." "Hello, pa ', next week."
"Yeah ... already."
The handset falls on the receiver .... stroke of the guillotine .... conclusion worthy of the noble communication ... one empty, one external, that tyrannize and stands pompous, contemptuous as an absolute monarch, in any way to be ..
Not a tear for the loss? No, on the other hand have always been on the side of the Jacobins. Vive la France! Vive la Liberté! Vive Monsieur Guillotin!
Even if in fact the guillotine would not have accepted even in the metaphorical sense ... too sharp, too certain of its decisions, however, are irrevocable, but with it there is no room for doubt, professing a single truth: her, not stated, but it sets ... also know is how the oppressed become oppressors.
presumption is easy to pretend to impose the truth!
Sure! Certainty. Ineluctable modalities of credible ... being certain that you can not believe ... and as you are not sure you can always believe (to believe in all), some believe that it is already a certainty.
... Maybe, maybe so ... but what would be a certainty so constituted as to be mere expression of the possible? (Assuming that the "credible" and "only" the infinite range of possibilities!) Probably wrong, in the end I'm not at all certain ....

Symptoms Of Hodgkin's Relapse

Certainties The wishes of the hypocrites

Greetings my darling little weird! Greetings
hundred thousand good things and bad
wishes of sleep, rock, sex, dirt,
off his back, arrogant
and blah, blah, blah ....
of A hundred other words that I keep everything.
Greetings from the heart, a bit
'lung,
of the gallbladder, which is not so,
Greetings
spleen and gall bladder or kidneys and liver with sauteed onions and white wine
I've prepared for dinner.
Get well my mimosa
embalmed to be recycled each year,
(never too old, never been new)
take it by if you like chrysanthemums
but tomorrow
rascal come home to make wool.

Huband Secretly Masterbates

KALEIDOSCOPE 04 - The Annunciation of Gabriel (mobile meetings and intermezzo ambulatory)

"I'm sorry Gabrielle, I have tried in every way to start the machine, I fear that we will have to take the bus."
"Do not Luca worry, it does not matter, I just need your presence ... I do not know if I'd told the grandfather himself. "
Slight fingertip pressure on the back of the hand and the caress of his eyes.
I can read in his eyes the faint of understanding silence, mute, because inexpressible depth of emotions ....
apparent from his face. The world around me has changed without my noticing.
Now we're on the bus: Background noise; the dissatisfied grumbling of the engine ... people sitting in front of me.
One couple, will our age, ... but that guy ... reminds me of myself, he looks so desperate ... is unnerving, it's like looking in the mirror and see in him exactly what you want to hide yourself, haunts me, seems to point the finger to underline my suffering.
No, better to immerse yourself in Luke, at least until we get from his grandfather.


----------------------------------------------- -----
climb stairs very slowly.
I purposely avoided the elevator.
the footsteps of Luke behind me preventing me from escaping again from myself.
I am ashamed to discover that this is a bit 'angry with him. Here
the door.
D *** A *** on the bell.
"Hello Grandfather." "Oh, Gabriel! What a nice surprise to see me make me! "
Gabriele smiled a bitter smile.

Good Have Yoghurt Have Stomach Bug

KALEIDOSCOPE 03 - Lady Macbeth




in mind the words of the letter that had arrived in the morning and an image, that of his dead father slumped on his desk.

Gabriel ran.

Fuga. Escape.

The hot air from the lungs and condenses into small clouds around me. Grips me a chill .... an ice that burns. Cocito Damn! It is the torment of Cain!
The clouds lose air quickly, and with the speed of my bike, perpetual far, far from being uniform, the gathering behind me. The untrimmed guess a gust of wind.
Track of our passage. The trace of human existence ... small clouds of condensed water vapor that flake melts into air replaced in less than a minute from other small clouds that invariably follow the fate of those that preceded them. This air is full of dirty breaths of a thousand generations. I climb a retching while I think that living breathing corpses of the past.

Fuga. Escape. But as

'll never run far enough away to escape from myself?
Corro, his face wet. The
face streaked ... no, not tears, but drops of rain ... pitiful ... as if to mask the anguish that I try to find my dry eyes ... cold.
What a monster ... show that even if I would be standing there gazing at the corpse had not even managed to drip a tear ... maybe if I ran it was not for the horror, but for fear of discovering that the horror left me indifferent.
Again the roar of the rain echoes in my ears, long continuous wail, slow agony of seccaspri whispers rhythmically monotonous, as my steps, many steps, how many? ... 1, 2.10, 100, 547 ... whatever number, for each x such that x belongs to the set of real numbers, walk-positive numbers ... and negative? These are steps backwards? Well, I do not think ... I do not care just now has, has not dropped, the language of mathematics ... reality depends on the system by which encodes an impersonal language will also impersonal reality so I can go on thinking, thinking without falling ... falling ... no, we're falling back! Think more! For more! The siren of an ambulance, I cling to his sound, propagation of sound waves, sound weak, the ambulance leaves, Doppler effect, curious correlation between the sirens of ambulances and the relative motion of galaxies, already - and just smile sketched off - but quell'ambulanza ... agony of people, tired of dying stars ...
restart Damn! Close your eyes, do not think, run, run home.
House, home, here it is check around the corner, the den to hide, put the sand in which the head (blessed are the ostriches). After a time I reached the unthinkable, unthinkable because I turned off my mind. You can not turn it off? No, it's true, you can not, however, it can be drunk, drunk with the mind and emotions. So the mind is not confused and think the pain that dominates the drowning, it's like a scream that by its very intensity makes us deaf for a while. '(Is this the reason for my apparent coldness?). Here we are. Pull out the keys. My hands are wet. Open the door. Take off your shoes because they are dirty. My hands are wet. Take off his jacket. The hands are full. It's dark. Turn on the light. Hands dripping in the darkness. Hands! Because I feel the blood on his hands? Because my hands are stained with innocent blood? Because my hands are stained with the blood of my innocence? Does not wash, you can not wash the murder of a part of himself. Consciousness, consciousness is the Executioner of themselves, that part of us who believe innocent, that he is convinced they are right!

Damn bastard! but why the fuck did it!?!
Maybe I should try to understand ....
Shit! I should hear it even when he did not want to talk!
My father, my conscience, in fact both.
I should have ... or maybe I could have groped at least ....

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KALEIDOSCOPE 02 - The letter from the dead




"Dear Gabriel.
is the will, the will to communicate that prompted me to again take up my pen to write. I lingered long at the phone, but I decided that I preferred ink smudging a letter .... already, like ink stains on scenes where words run, dance, make a bow and leave the stage to give way to other words-actresses, actress, because the target of a meaning that goes beyond what is expressed clearly, is a state of mind, my entire being that the words should be interpreted.
more fluid in this way than with the dry-electric buzzing harshness that they assume the phone is not it? Besides, there are things through a phone can not explain or understand, how the will to communicate silently, the quiet and sorrowful silence, that strange, harmonious intimacy of thoughts whizzing like bows for violins or drift lazily as water a mountain stream, a silence full, satisfying, but, for some strange reason, the moment where I am living it, it scares me.
And then call it? A phone outline with no facial expression, without the flashes in my eyes speak louder than words. The letter is basically just a means of last resort. The truth
is that I want to talk face to face, but your voice terrifies me, I always seem to feel in your weight of all items in the world, voices not spoken, whispered in his mind, voices that others might not perceive, but I did, and I can assure you that those whispers become a deafening silence.



You might wonder why I'm writing just to you ...
... because you are my greatest failure.
When you were born I had hoped so much that you would become a bad son, then the greater would be your imperfection, the more I loved you ... but you were always perfect, so I wanted to hate you, but I could not do that either this.
Have you ever wondered why I called Gabriel? See when your grandparents were born long been uncertain whether to call Michael or Gabriel. They chose the first name, and it was as if choosing that, had they chosen all of me, even as a child I believed myself to be under the name I was given ... but Gabriel was all that I was not and that I could be. Gabriel was my shadow, the embodiment of my concern, the model imagery that left me drowning in a sea of \u200b\u200bbile and frustration ... every time I was reprimanded for something I imagined that it would have been Gabriel Gabriel because he would do better me, every time I lose a race, a challenge, not only lost with myself, I lost against him, and every time I saw Gabriel unhappy smile.
was perfect, it was what I wanted to be, and I hated his perfection, so I called Gabriel: in the vain hope that you crack that perfection.
How many times I wondered if it was possible, if we could say, that I could not hate him.
Then I understood. I realized that hating Gabriel (that is, his idea, my idea of \u200b\u200bhim), hating the idea of \u200b\u200bGabriel, the idea of \u200b\u200bGabriel, who was created by me, I hate myself as well.
That part of me that created the idea of \u200b\u200bGabriel, but to be able to hate, is itself hated by me. I hate Gabriel, who is in me, and I hate it because there is not, because there is, because in reality there .... there is in me.
So I wanted to kill me by Gabriele, hating myself for not being him, I took Gabriel to hate me because he did not exist in me, in fact, exist not in me, did not exist except as a comparison, as a mental image, was Picture of Dorian Gray turned upside down.
But now I won, I, I!! Gabriele hath been spotted! The feathers of its wings are black, stained with pitch and heavy, heavy, like those of a seagull entangled oil, the oil spills around him grabs him with caresses of a deadly cloud of despair .... ... I see him, with hands dipped in blood, chino, desperate, tries to collect the broken shards of his shattered halo.
I'm happy.
So ends my story. "

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KALEIDOSCOPE 01 - Smiles existential




Gabriel smiled. Gabriele smiled heartily. She smiled for the first time in his life, even if, strictly speaking, already with her first smile he had in him the certainty of the existence of other conscious smiles, perhaps never actually realized, ever made, but at least mentioned, if only because Gabriel was made so, and just as himself, because Gabriel was quite possible to smile before, and this was enough to give coherence to those memories of smiles he could do .... if it had existed before now, before this, his first action, before this smile .....
.... It should look quite messy affair in the eyes of Gabriel. The matter of
smile mean, well, I think even the existence, but in the end could be the same. The smile
el'esistere.
least for Gabriel, who has not yet had experience of smiles disconnected existence, or existence separate from the smiles.
For this, I think, Gabriel decided he would always smile, at least until there.
So I think the author who gave birth to Gabriel has just hated it.
for its existence, for his smile, if not both. In fact, I think that gave him life (created in this way) just to be able to hate freely.
do not know, ultimately I know very little Gabriel, he is not my character, my character is the author, I gave him a name, a coincidence because I do not hate him, I called Michael; to be honest I almost left that was created by him, I made an author even though I still love the idea of \u200b\u200bsomething, then I'll leave that for him to choose, I gave him a world in which to live, a more or less than that in which I live too, but not the same, on the other hand I'm not him and he is not me.
I do not know if you can see the world, that I created for Michael, just know that there will be Michael to decide whether or not there have to talk. That figure
mean I'm doing! It is my work and I do not know practically nothing, to be honest I let the story, my story, which is also his History (of life, of course) if the write yourself Michael.
stupid, a game? You will say that if I created my character with a specific personality, then I will know necessarily its history and what he chooses to do.
But no. I gave Michael a specific personality, but as far as I know this I can not say with certainty what will be the actions of Michael. In front of
each of us open up infinite possible actions, and for that matter, we can not even say with certainty we know what decisions we take in our lifetime (or within one day !!!).
But back to Gabriel, since the only thing he did was make Michael Gabriel. To tell the story of what I have to then follow the history of this.
I wonder whether it is possible that Michael has chosen to crush your life in the art, almost like a blanket to enter into a tightly packed suitcase, a suitcase maybe beautiful, but that certainly does not allow you to bring back everything.
Well, if this were my story, its history, merely be the story of Gabriel.
We'll see.

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Since the period of total madness because the thesis, I have little time to devote to the blog, so I decided to post a story already written (Actually, the basis already existed for years, but recently I had slightly modified) . I have divided into different parts for ease of reading, and to have something to post about anything at this stage due to creative commitments. The story is deliberately complex (even in the plot), if I were to describe the call as a labyrinthine metaracconto, because the chronological order of the various parts to be reconstructed a posteriori.