Funny Things To Write About

The rain and the years go by.

Then I think back to Trieste and its way down full of work in progress. At the kick drum roll merrily and I see that I'm going to take about thirty feet below. At the kick drum and my liver and my mother when I talk of the time. The rain and the years go by. To ask whether they are born before some bar or the people who drink in thirty years. While telling me of a poker hand of twenty-five years ago, four kings against a royal flush and the ability to go home with a home anymore. And I'll tell you about five years ago when I did not have even that bit of, say, fill material for them to weep eat sleep diapers. Produce consumed crack.
Change register, write in folders forty five minutes after you wrote for forty days you have five rows and three deleted and you've thought a bit 'and then you leave her not to feel too useless. To say that we write to the computer because we are unaccustomed to using the pen and after two minutes the cramps start to come to hand. And generally we have a spelling too indecent that sometimes even we do not understand what we've written. Then end up on the most beautiful leaves, and then begin to write anywhere, even in the corners of the streets and once I finished a sentence, making their arms.
you tell me I see a little 'airhead lately maybe you're doing a little' too and I'll say what the fuck you say and while I forget where you live, and meanwhile the bicycles parked Shot down, and while it's something that I think so.
must be free and democratic and speeches Pertini worth more than a flag attached to the back to celebrate a birthday that we do not hear us. How to celebrate forty years even if you would like to turn off in less than fifteen candles. We must understand when your breath when you are too rhythmic and relief but I can not touch. When I greet you but you're watching.
Like when I phone to ask how it went from nine in the evening because the evening at nine o'clock in the morning you say you have a little lapse of memory.
And all my seem to you that a phone busy. Why
we are so good at evading the bouncers and managers to disappoint, but fifteen euro is too much for a tribute and to avoid cigarettes that pull me back. So we met and she does not believe it and instead you remember I was one shaves full of dreams of glory. But now it says that they are naughty and then my opinion should not be underestimated. Then I think back to my
cachet ridiculous when we played for twenty euro, existed when the resale price of tickets, Vigevano when we remember that we no longer see someone from twenty years but perhaps still lives here. When we are too identical to those ideals that seem certain books defeated by Wu Ming.
When I dreamed I was me and Fiorenzo dell'Estragon on stage and had jammed with the smoke machine and it seemed to be in an autumn afternoon in the countryside behind the salaprove. And the piece ended and there were four old men sitting on four chairs in the middle of the empty room. What we clapped and asked us for an encore. Do you think that I have not had the courage to tell anyone and then I wrote here.
here that within a couple of minutes we are at Rovigo and a little 'take me wrong.
And I finished the paper.

Pinewood Derby Design Spaceship

Annarella.

will be that what we cooked tonight at four, rather than a snack dinner seemed a failure, which is now the sky is white on the roofs of houses and a white sky does not promise never anything too positive, will be cigarette butts abandoned in the ashtray in the living room. Will be our endless conversations on the mood and the anxiety states. It will be the coffee that heats the veins and mixes them with the words that we can not tell us, the words and concepts we have in mind and which do not want it out by following any logic. Calexico and discussions will be the series if it came first the chicken or the egg, and if we feel more for the specific material to be fried or domestic birds. Or simply be seen as if things in the world today, if only crack head can be an acceptable solution, that's what comes out we will deal with quiet, then.
will be your guides for sports or the Vodafone asking me unique business and offered to return in ten years I have never offered, or even better than hours spent arguing until the traffic light turns green and we start again. To get lost in the countryside still asleep for those troubled streets who may not even have a name. What should we give it to him. In the streets of a city swept by wind and sea, to calculate how large a block would be and how many there might be isolated from an x-point y, then we are. In my heart there are several blocks and a highway that runs through it with you as always looking a little 'around that seems to be the last to follow the track of your thoughts with me that without me you know it on the shore seat, which is not never know. Even if I trust that the time has close and nothing has been lost, never, and all that we have collected with their eyes, we have put in boxes well wrapped, decorated with pages torn from an old book and dipped in tea, to make it look even older.
Tell me, is not it? With that in your dreams Annarella stops being just a song and becomes a kind of consecration, a handover. Maybe because it is so easy to play. And tell me, especially if it is the fault of the years are slipping over or is it our fault that we do not pay too much attention. The revolution, love, revolution, the storming of the Bastille, we are the revolution, with no reported Print without saying that we need to see better and see each other before the others. We simply take to the streets to embrace amid the noise of gunfire, in that white sky that promises what he has promised. At best, here is full of arcades, to catch his breath.