Gretchen Rossi Rollers

The few things that is worth telling

The fact that we are not talking more of the bullshit Friday night does not mean that they cease.
What about one night, Friday, when asked to come at 11? Where then forced to remain in the presence of His Majesty the Brightest professor to be a witness to last on the list - despite the vote already pocketed - you end up with sleep? Just one thing: experience. The doors of the department are wide open, run to the middle of the streets of Careggi with smile on her lips, her voice makes her way alone through the larynx and then explode in a barrage of screams and noise to wake up half the peace of small department pazientini resting in their beds ... And then, in a car, friends, beer, vodka & gin and lemon soda, Negroni, dancing and screaming, fighting between sleep, cold and alcohol - and sometimes confounding monologue - is everything down (including eyelids).
Fighting, always. Against themselves if there is someone else. But now enough.

Would You Know If You Had A Brain Tumor

Ludwig Van


He had written without ever being able to listen to. The grumpy old
, finished browsing the score, turned around. He had finished conducting an orchestra mute and never once, that was on stage, had turned his gaze to the audience ... Cos'avrebbero thought of that music came from the heart and not from the ear, born within the silence of a exiled mind for years, almost twelve, from the world of Noise and words?
Legend has it that the theater in Vienna exploded in a huge applause, and five times the audience stood up on chairs to greet the old man and his creature, the last one.