ravings ... Who is Sono secoli che non scrivo. Che poi è solo un mese ma sembra una eternità. Il tempo amico-nemico non mi da tregua e mi stringe nella sua morsa ferrea. Mille cose da fare ed il tempo manca. Molto spesso lo sottraggo al sonno con il risultato di ritrovarmi nervosa ed intollerante e con la mente vuota.
Come si fa a scrivere un Post al giorno? E mantenere contenuti di qualità? Impossibile. E' meglio scrivere cose trite e ritrite o scopiazzate da altri blog? oppure scrivere soltanto quando le sensazioni che premono nell'anima e nella mente si fanno tanto forti da avere bisogno di sfogarle?
Sarebbero many topics to write about. From politics
offering juicy episodes of bad politics (the warrior Fini has fallen from its pedestal in ruining a thousand pieces of clay) to the Italian situation by creepy to those who want to drop at all costs and by all means the ' only government that concluded something etc. etc.
But I do not want. Frankly I do not care ... I do not have children and therefore do not fear for their future, are unemployed and will remain 'and my pension will be made to allow barely a sandwich a day. But I do not care. Otherwise, the alternative would be a gun ... and make a clean sweep clean sweep of all these corrupt politicians, a clean sweep of those who dare steal homes state for a handful of Euros, a clean sweep of those who allow the boat, a clean sweep of those who pontificate really caring about people and their needs. Watch a newscast
me nauseous. I was talking about the time that I lack and I went out off topic. A minute ago I was in January and I was celebrating the new year and are now in August. Summer is almost over and I would not be realized.
It 's impossible to live like this'. Is not life. I would stop and pet a blade of grass. Walking on the seashore in the early morning and inebriate of her perfume. I would like to eat ice cream sitting idly at a table in a bar. I would just stretch out up in the morning trying to capture the memory of the dream just did.
I would stop and listen to my father for the millionth time on his adventures as a boy. I would like to look in the mirror looking for signs of the time that passes and the evil that is not coming back ...
I laugh with tears ... and to embrace and be embraced ...
Ma .. I have no time ... but ...
It 's really so'? or am I running away from myself running into the void and lack of time is only an alibi?
