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Sleeping in a room without windows

As I looked, the voice of another age, his hands fell on his face, for fun, I thought it would be a bit 'a shame, a bit' an insult to the intelligence (dis) ordering of the meetings, an illegality beautiful and good, with the complicity of our immaturity and distinct so innocently obvious, a certain awkwardness to make reservations and to stir up the pole and the rest of the world barricaded off, with photographers and onlookers, waiting for an event that will be consumed in silence and without the knowledge of authorities. A shame, an outrage, an illegality, not to delay as much as possible the moment the applause, when people casually talks as if the stage had suddenly dissolved under the wave of their shots, not to regulate stunned the last traces of white lights and white, which is also a redemption and a chance to start again from scratch as a separate new.

She slept in a terrace where there was room only for the bed, and a wall of bars to repair the falls, or their simple projection in fear, devouring the moment in which a tear had shown the possibility that the words were finished talking to them, they shrank the conflict in the confirmation of the complications away.

He watched a stream, the stream that had every kind of American action film that is, every time I needed a scene with a stream going to frame that. Had they not pointed out by showing photos of various films with a stream in the scene, and actually matched them all. It was not asleep. The cries for help of a road in the Trans had lacerated his stomach, and had died when he tried to tear away the cynicism in the concern of possible damage to his car, parked below. At that point the wall had started to sneeze and some windows had been opened as an annoyance call. The black writing on the ceiling, dashed from the chandelier still, only letters were indistinguishable and presumably changing and did not give any explanation to the kit launch vehemently injunctions against the impotence, in spite of the uncertainty principle of H, its an observer in the face of reality.

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have the meaning that you will give to my presence

when the door closes I feel a bit 'vacuum. or maybe socks. maybe you just so that I do not even realize, one hand clutching the eyes to cover the violent scenes and a song to hide the background of gunfire and explosions. protect you from the emptiness of a fog on the first floor of Tarkovsky indistinct, but you will get closer, printed sul mio viso, che la luce e il respiro depurano dal tempo, come in quel sogno, una bambina. Il vuoto è proprio dietro di me, disteso alle mie ombre, una per ogni luce sul palco. Perderti e proteggerti coincidono con lo stesso movimento in avanti, io sono il punto d’equilibrio, la barriera saldata sul precipizio che è anche l’unico appiglio esistente. Quando te ne andrai, un istante atterrito concederà al corpo invaso dal nulla  di incespicare spandendosi a terra, togliendo materia al vento, ritornando lentamente alla distrazione degli specchi, niente di cui dolersi, solo spazio da riempire, fra gli interrogativi sul senso avuto dall’uscire da se per incontrarti, giustificazioni nella Beauty to wake up find you sprung up from the collarbone, in the perception of the potential you have to let me get the picture I have of me, that is on your liquid form and discontinuous, which are modeled your cheeks in my hands.