Itchy Boobs Burst Blood Vessels

Nowhere


investment always requires a share of courage and passion. Issues placed on the door, wincing at every ring of the bell, maybe the postman brings voices of the fruits of your sowing and already the mind races at the time of harvest, a full belly, behind the back to read ... We thought shrugged off made it! Maybe we see our breath in the sense of these little things that take up our hours ... maybe not, but it matters little. It 's so that we attach importance to these three drops of life that we are entitled and which we call our own. It is a reflection of value given to those few things that have the luck be washed by our liquid treasure.
A girl, a test, the home, a friend ... I'm not made me wait for Santa Claus - St. Nicholas already - in bed. Carbone.
I want to go, I want to leave, I want to change. The snow stopped me in the street, but the debts are those that stop your feet in the doorway. 22 years of gratitude to the cynicism most affected can not erase. This has always been a difficult period ... mmm - not the right word but the first that comes to mind. Yet Every day more and more times when I can not keep our eyes fixed on the table without asking myself the wrong questions (or fearing to be so damn right solutions). The same as each of us, identical to those that maybe one day my father has done, and so my grandfather. God, how I would know his answer. Are not words, not only at least ... "These are the dilemmas that young people reveal the contradiction between the mouth and hands, between dreams and reality," one might say.
will be cold, will be the time. It will be the beautiful country and the Italians, with the Sun and the more good food! It will be the luck of being born every mountain where he sings the deeds of Caesar and of his own, where every stone has been the pillar of the temple of Jupiter, where every village has a crucifix carved by Donatello, where every road has been traveled by wagon than a thousand intellectuals from all over to come and see our miracle, Italy. Of the beautiful lady I Turrita but I never saw the face, as well as if on some old stamp or coin.
not happy to share the same horizons that Leonardo saw before bedtime. I even thought: there is perhaps more in Tuscany Beautiful Lisa's smile that lights up the rooms of the old palace Alps that in this whole town? The magical land revealed by the words of the old, which you fall in love before even having set foot in the same ... you do not recognize when is under your feet, whose past glories are not sufficient to improve the squalor ... might not actually be here.

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Thought

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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2.0 Puzzled

Mettiamo che tu ed io, e gli altri non siamo che pezzettini di cartone sagomati. Ogni singolo tassello non è che un colore, una sfumatura di blu o di giallo o di rosso, un centimetro quadro di una parete infinita che va ben oltre la stanza e il Ceiling ...
Each fragment binds to another, thus forming a green, an orange or purple: so together we create the rainbow. There is one more faded, who has a thousand reflections, who shines on the other, those jars. Far an observer can not distinguish, however, fails to see the drawings that compose: mountains, meadows, clouds ...
Unfortunately people are not cardboard, and their form is much more difficult to embrace. The edges of a personality you can tighten, changing the tone, turn brown, as well as clear ...
The game does not change, however: although beautiful, can not alone be yellow sun. Only we binding ourselves to a form Our color. Some pieces create a wonderful combination of those remarkable for their beauty, of those who swell the heart of jealousy, the kind that make you wonder why is not capable of such ...
The problem is that you're too tired to force the joints, of filing your profile in an attempt to coincide now with this right now with that piece. If you are not always reflected that much behind that dream you had done, nothing that can match with you ... you do, you give up? Let it be the fear of ruining the whole plan to win? You still appeals to your diversity, your inability to bind you to someone else? Puoi really forget what color it was painted that your cm?
behind ... and if that beautiful blue it was your joints?

What if you're away remark, that so short-sighted not known even to his own color, so that outcry the watching and understand so little in the stain? It is listing and describing your piece of cardboard - or the dying, the depth of his reflections, or the hardness of its corners - that the sense. But paint and invented, this is the best game in the world. It matters little whether it is the only one there! Try a thousand variations and again a thousand ... The more different
profile is sometimes not that bad of you.

1.0

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Because now they are locked up at home by the day *, so here is some work recently.

I am self-taught - unbridled egotism belonging - both the photo retouching that are designed to test some new technique.

* unlikely to see an attempt to review December 21, the first time in my life except for the bullshit first year.