Why write? The answer is ... because I like it.
That day I said a stupid thing that still burns a bit '.
But this is my answer. I like it.
An outburst? Well too. But this place is not a diary. It 's more or less the only place where I can afford to escape a little to that set of behaviors and situations that bind and stifle the character.
It is not easy for me to juggle kids cock drunk and agitated, especially when I am the first to claim the title King of the balls. It is not easy, but I like it.
The seriousness is something that just does not belong to me. Is not it a thin layer of makeup that is used to hide insecurities and fears? It 'a mask of greasepaint difficult to bear and to remove the signs. Moralizing and blame lie almost always the fear or the inability to do something, to throw over what you can, or rather, "should" do. I am not proud of the reviews that I have expressed criticism and reviews on the other's work.
is not a call I do, but a statement: I am ashamed to show what is hidden behind the mountain of crap that I do. To write this, because peace is also buried here, il lato insoddisfatto del mio modo di passare le giornate.
Solo qui posso scegliere le parole che voglio, quelle che non finiscono col suono dell'ultima sillaba, ma continuano a risuonare fin tanto che qualcuno le legge. Quelle che mi spaventa pronunciare davanti alla mia compagnia. Quelle che una volta che le hai lasciate uscire, poi non si soffocano in gola e intasano i pensieri. Quelle che credo assomiglino molto alle più belle che riesco a costruire.
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