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* "I wish I could believe in something different from love in the moment, but I can not."

not have to think about today.
Soon I will stay in this house just me. Can be extended to all the rooms and fill them with my tired mind. But I must not think of today, nor tomorrow. But I want to talk about yesterday. I finally

went to one of "encounters with the writers' organized by Nina Library. I had lost all the previous ones. This week, the interviewee was Francesco Pacific and it seemed interesting.
I was bored all the time. I do not remember anything of what they said. When I realized that he was a "bourgeois Catholic" and often withdrew to pray to the holidays nonsodove, m'è took a hit of sleep.

After the interview sleep I wandered alone to Pietrasanta. It was amazing last night my town. She was rich, was bright, she was beautiful beyond words. I was walking, take the strangest way, I visited shops at random. The restaurants were all open and busy, colorful and eccentric. The galleries were interesting, showing full. I've seen the paintings of Venice, a pop artist that I was sorry. I stole a rose from the new scented herbs.
Each step, however, caused me sadness. It became increasingly difficult to walk and look around. Soffrivo.

Here's what I wrote on the jet phone (in the absence of a pad and pen) to almost the end of this murderous night.

"The girl with the feet is called Daria. Another child was believed that the bell tower of wood, and another said his father wanted to fly. The Charlotte gets depressed with me, faith is very sweet. The Tibetan thanked me for giving him smile. Ruggiero is the baby sitter, Marge is the caring, sympathetic and kind Daniel. I, in addition to being an idiot, I'm sad. Cry. And this beautiful country search ... fills me and then I painfully empty. "
Small notes Scordino not forget the little pearls that I had met on my journey suffering. Let me explain.

from the beginning, I had hidden on the steps of the door of the campanile in Piazza Duomo, no one could see me. I was wrong. On my left appeared a man and a little girl wearing the sandals. I liked the noise made on the marble stairs. Her father brought her in the square and said: "Come, let us ask this girl ..." I've done carefully. He, a handsome man approached and greeted me. "This little girl wants to know your name." The little girl stumbled over the stones of the courtyard. "My name is Chiara. And what's your name? "" You are Daria. "He answered instead of a daughter, a little embarrassed. "As beautiful hooves has bought tonight?" He continued, laughing. I laughed too. "Yes, very nice! But they are a little big?" I said kindly, seeing the shoes protrude from the heels of the very small. The father shrugged: "Yes, but now grows." Daria took her hand, which protested the rough stones and leading me smile: "Hello." I greeted him and the child. Soon after I cried.
Shortly before another family, parents and children, had arrived in the square. The father showed the bell for the children and one of them, the male, with the nose said, sincerely hit "Beeello. It 'also made of wood. "The father lifted himself puzzled face," Wood? "From my position I giggled happy, realizing the gaffe: it is not wood, are bricks. Then the entire family has turned around the big statue in the courtyard, the bust of a woman who looks up. They played: "Children! What do you think is watching this lady?" The bell! "But no, it would be otherwise," and with twisted his neck to take the same pose of the statue.
When I was sitting next to the bell tower instead, what I call "my place" (where I sit to read or simply do nothing), I walked past a man pushing a pram and a child's ran alongside. The child has a leap and landed with a little cry. Rising, clung to the man's arm, "Father, I want to fly!"
Behind the tower I have sent a message to Charlotte my talking of these bad feelings. "Even when I depression. I miss the guys, I missing a little of everything. I do not feel alive. "Incredibly similar.
I had some money in the phone and contacted the Feffah I apologize for not having answered before, and thank you for thinking of me listening to Night of the Hunter og 30. "And how do I not think of you when I hear Mars? I love you too!" Thank you.
There are many beggars in Pietrasanta. Some have been here for years. Among them is a man, age undefined, though rather old, who has created a bed full of Tibetan objects: little buddha, musical instruments, colorful carpets. He himself is very Tibetan. That evening I went out with my cousin, two of them have spoken, so when I passed him I smile. I passed and he said, without raising his voice: "Thanks for the smile." I turned around with a heart beat stronger than the others and I saw him smile. "Thank you." I said. Ruggiero
I found on a bench in front of the restaurant of his uncles, where he works. Was holding the beauty of three children and threatened them all to death, while they laughed. "Take the baby sitter tonight?" Trying to keep them at bay he replied: "I am my cousins, who came from Scotland. These monsters! Escape! Flee as long as six-time! "The children laughed louder. I left wishing him good luck.
I tried to call the Marghe without success. I have written a message, telling her that I was in Pietrasanta, but I'd be gone soon. "Now we come to Pietrasanta. Wait a little bit ... "My father told me he" would have taken a shower and would come at once, "I did not know exactly when he would arrive. "When you give me a ring." I was going to get in the car when the ring arrived. Too late.
I spoke with my father at about eleven twenty. Fifteen minutes after I met Daniel (aka Astolfo) Via del Marzocco, with a group of friends. We looked wide-eyed in disbelief to be there. With him was Rebecca. We talked a lot, even the Mad Hatter. He is really good. "Are you alone? Will you go for a ride with us? "Instinctively, I refused. I always do so. The excuse was that my father would come get me soon, so I let them go. Actually came to take me home at midnight and a half, thus increasing beyond the limit of my suffering. I regret very much not to have happened with Daniel and I am so ashamed that I avoided all the more crowded streets with the fear the other side.
's why I'm an idiot.

This was my Friday night. Scandic from the pages of The Queen of the Damned, that sometimes I stopped reading.
Today I am here and I hate it. Tomorrow, I do not know. I do not want to know. They kidnapped the