This period is fragmented, inefficient and chaotic. I certainly will not be to upset the natural order of things organized the report in a consistent manner.
have recently been a number of significant events. Or rather, a relatively large number.
The first in time is that I almost set fire to my bedroom because of a cigarette off evil.
Shit but then these things happen, really, really, not only happens if you're a fucking idiot who is not worthy to perpetuate the gene spreading his seed to the four corners of the globe! I do not rule my membership to this set, though short, we understood each other.
Here's how it happens: a sudden got sick of your desk, especially because three overflowing ashtrays are far too many even for your nose, all you can grab and throw in a basket, somewhere in the pile a little bit quiet charcoal hatching revenge against you, the fire, the flames which becomes a bonfire. Panic! / Funny gags à la Benny Hill / happy ending.
not nothing serious has happened but at that moment I realized that I had broken my balls beautifully smoking. A couple of days ago I stopped and now I feel much better physically, no longer lethargic, sleeping less and better, things like that. And I'm in good spirits, however. Too bad for the pea straight or almost constantly, I mean ah ah, you want to be there then do not drive when
Okay.
Yes, however I also read the famous book by Allen Carr. Unfortunately, it is structured like a Watchtower pamphlet, it is often in bad faith and its target are mainly the simple-minded. Although it is good and just criminalize cigarettes, tobacco industry and hypocrisy of the state, the language used is not right to persuade me. In short, I stopped because I had my reasons, I sought
Then what else.
Well, one night in rehearsal we had a fight bad between us, we of BEND.
We rubbed in their face the worst outrages and then, after have gutted our reasons (range considerations en passant sexual life of our mothers), we have become sad and miserable and we did a sort of group therapy. What a truly pathetic! But also useful in its own way. Not to get us through the creative crisis, of course. In short, one of the things I learned in life is that the problems are not solved by bringing to light, talking about it. Continue to stay there, you can even pretend now that you know there are those very politely putting the door and the fare but fuck, no, it does not. At the end you have to solve them, engaged in earnest, really. Otherwise you can always let it go and pretend it never happened.
A little 'as it happens in relationships, in other words. Both
at some point feel the air a faint smell of shit, something vaguely repellent that makes the other for whatever mysterious reason, then one of two gives voice to the problem, try to understand why, it eviscerates analyzes it and then when everything is clean and clear, it all comes back great and joyful for exactly twelve hours, then instead of the vague impatience previous materializes the fierce hatred, you end up insulting each other, then one of two requires all & rsquo ; another break-of-a-common-agreement, that thirty minutes after the couple is interrupted by the doormat with a text message that says "I'm sorry I'm a jerk thanks for letting me understand" etc, and this violation of the agreements will infuriate others, etcetera, etcetera.
Yes is the short step to Enjoy Troy Die Bitch.
However, having said that one wonders, yes, but you said that the session was useful, but to what?
to give each other the material to blackmail each other, of course.
But anyway. Come strewn with anecdotes.
The
Among the many shows I could attend a reading of poems by Federico García Lorca, played by boys sitting on the stairs of the building. Unfortunately you that the voice of the poor students was very tedious (typical of an actor who mimics, or perhaps by stage actor, was crap BTW), or the fact that you could not tell much, I broke the balls and I decided to leave. Just under the stairs in the dark here I see a couple who lively discussions. Capto this while I wander around looking for their exit:
She: "You have not been felt for days, and here ..." He
: "Am I wrong or I made it very clear that a bit 'had to be silent? "She
" Sisisisi but just did not say this, it's just that "
him:" I said that I need to think about it, in the meantime had decided not to look for us, period. "
She:" But santoddio! At least say hello on the street! "
Lui : “NON TI HO VISTA CAZZO, la smetti di fare l’isterica? Lo vedi che sei ossessionante, porca puttana!”
Era fantastico, mi sembrava di essere dentro un mio ricordo, però coi ruoli invertiti! Sembrava tipo Eternal Sunshine of etc. etc. Sulle prime ho pensato fosse un’installazione messa su solo per me, visto che ero l’unico presente e gli attori non badavano minimamente alla mia presenza, come veri professionisti.
Vedevo quei personaggi sprofondare nelle medesime squallide menzogne di comodo, negli stessi patetici tentativi di suscitare un briciolo di pietà nell’altro, cimentarsi in hateful and puerile attempts at moral blackmail each other.
I was going to go to applaud and congratulate them.
Ok, this maybe not, but I swear that alcohol was going to push me to approach them and say
beautiful girls, listen to me. You, of course, not stand it anymore, because they continued to torture? You've already decided that they do not any more, you are probably other purposes but are not yet sure if it's a good lay or not, and so keep the poor as a spare. But the deeply despise, continues to make the carcass so that she becomes miserable and pathetic in front of you, so that further fuel your contempt for him. And you, boy, you probably know very well that this is so, but you're convinced that you fit the same, when he will return to you and wish you happy, but it is not. You hate it to death, he bear a grudge forever, mind you, not only until you decide to close but for always, that pours like infinitesimal parts of this hatred to your future husband, and most likely your first-born male. That would probably kill shots at the wall. And close enough. Now.
But then I thought maybe it was not the case. All this will certainly
appear sickly and pathetic, but in fact, to think of it, I have no punchline to finish this sentence, except that you can fuck off go away.
According funny anecdote. A few days ago we played in the name of discontent in the village of Fucking, whose population is divided into males that are spun on the cobblestones in front of the steps of the church, and those who encourage females to males to fight, help in this task by their pretty face. The bar, just below the stairs of the church, and those with the beaded walls, with the chairs of woven plastic similar to the old high-backed chairs, wicker hanging here and there with pictures of the most famous fortified premises in the exercise of their functions and groups of hunters of wild boar from the mountains above bloody mangled bodies. After a concert undertone (behind us a giant screen broadcasting pictures of a show with puppets hairy trigger-happy rappers imitating blacks, was so difficult to attract attention), I left the bar and three indigenous ask me to turn on and begin to talk to me nicely. Soon two of them away to rest and discuss music with a single, in their thirties, pretty. The idyll lasts about two and a half minutes, then known hostile gaze of a native that away from my team, evaluates as "negligible" my relationship muscle mass / body mass and approaches us glances of defiance. The beautiful tome (henceforth McRedneck Cletus), with face of a character film by Enzo G. Castellari and looked lively from the deep south of Bible-Belt, sporting a hair style "Spike Lee's 1988" in open contrast with modernity, and perhaps eager to show his head skillfully carved, using a razor, in the manner stylized spider, has precisely between me and my interlocutor. He also began to speak very loudly completely covering the second half of a sentence there and then I died in my mouth, then makes a small step backward to exclude them physically. She did not seem to notice any difference and keeps talking amiably with Cletus. I remain speechless for a few seconds, then I look around and see my friends who look at me whispering and giggling, I approach them and raise their arms and shouting "FIFTEEN!"
"Fifteen what?" I do, and their "Fifteen seconds, those who took you to levarti ass after he has arrived!" God rogue bastard.
I cursed these villages inhabited by wild incestuous relationships consumed under the influence of hate them. You know, yes, that will be the only ones to survive all global crises, wars and plagues more horrible because of their absolute waterproof? I do not find it fair.
And then nothing, now I should go for rehearsals and I have not the slightest desire. We would also note the other and far between, but you will understand the importance.
NIGHT UPDATE: On rereading, I give the impression of being a shit. Instead, my mood is good, quitting smoking has made my powerful voice as I had for years (now proven), I made friendships I have made peace with people who I had treated like shit, I even ideas are coming. Also on Saturday, I enjoyed it very much, and I swear that I happened to such a combination of things for years.
But it's all twisted, without rhyme or reason. How can I fix my impressions on a LJ form or any other media? I can not understand. Damn.
Finish quickly, two thousand and fucking.
She takes on the expression of ravenous tiger, typical of certain circles of forty female worshipers of the sacred heart that so are all the rage in my town, and I said no, it hurts my mental and physical balance. Pronounce this sentence caressing my balls with his right foot and waving his left leg, while his hands linger on his groin roughly massaging. Here is something that comes back, tells me that my insight, from the back of my head, hastily browse a compendium of body language attachment to focus the month before. I still I harden in doubt . After a while 
I say no, I was around for a bit 'and I had beer in the body, so I ask you to use the bathroom, I'd just need a fucking. 
