E 'again Monday. It 'started another week after a weekend a bit tortured, including heart disease and that the clear sky, with that sun, it almost seems to get his ass: "you've complained about for seven days of the years of shit and now that I finally Florence came to warm lands you have not really wanted to go out, have fun, smile. "
Yes, I is definitely taking the piss. But we fo. A map on one them, a hot shower, a dip in the closet and that new look you never thought to look so perfect giornatina for that. I feel
friend. The problems of the heart not only torment me, and bear them in two (maybe in the open air) is much better than staying at home do it yourself to make the mold.
advance the game of the Florentine + = farms crowded market. I feel like olives.
Yes, walking among the stalls is an art and after half an hour here we are, finally free, in the dirt road overlooking the Arno sbrilluccicante. We finished the ice cream and the tram in the distance like a brucone red / silver begin to list the faults as the old woman who spend hours to criticize the work in progress.
Let's go back and, to a dock, buy € 6 olives (yes, very good, But Sticazzi ..) and we do it in half. The
pratone seems endless and a playground balls and dodging dogs, riusiciamo to carve out a piece of lawn to enjoy a snack (yes, olives) and give us a comforting style sunbathing lemurs of Madagascar. And you talk
: many questions and few, very few answers, you know, love stories are never quite clear, it is correct or that they are finished .. always miss the certainty that if one side makes you go crazy , the other to smile, with a touch of melancholy, the heart. The usual brightness of hope that you find it difficult to evict.
Questions continue as we prepare to take the bus. Arrive at home we score the olives and return, by good cleft, to pay bitter tears in front of "his picture" or "his message." Sadness in spades, yes, but .. at least for now inevitable. Thank goodness there
the wise aunt with her wise advice and his wise groom who remit some order in your confused little head that makes you beat a bit everywhere like a blind moschino.
slump forces, again I feel weak and vulnerable and it appears that the interior work done so far has been totally useless.
seems. It always seems sad and everything bad in these situations, but perhaps all this sadness and all these tears are used to vent a bit, to the bottom .. at the end you feel it, and there are two things: either you get to scratch to go yet Further down (but you know you're so desperate) or you get up and start the climb: at the bottom inside of you then you know that everything passes, to come back to fight.
I think of my mother and the advice he would give me, or just to caress and embrace that I would be consoled.
I think I'm missing.
But I go to sleep with a new awareness and a new smile, a little stronger than yesterday, which will still have much to learn from tomorrow.
E 'on Monday and the sun shines. The lesson is boring and I feel particularly inspired to write. Now that the wait after I've finished the lunch break of SGAM listening to music and playing solitaire, and the other between a yawn. Adieu
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