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The truth does not heat.

Ten years ago we trust the truth.
Not that one often encounters, to say the same, but you knew it was there - over the lies spread by the sand and pretend that it's just a strange swelling of reality.
was back, and swore they saw him check his feet from under the curtains.
Whether it was a massacre unpunished or a kiss is not seen, you know that sooner or later he would come forward and would destroy all - with a just and relentless violence.
believe that each step closer, imagine her sitting there waiting like a chest full of doubloons on ocean floor.
Then came on as a sub who has lost weight: if everyone took a piece and began to tell me I have it.
When the towers fell, when the police spotted the slates, when the first game to go into the desert to do is not yet clear what the truth was already in the hands of all.
Each with its part under the mattress, more or less anxious to take it out.
who believed he did have to use every means to show it to everyone else. The truth
you took her home - as rightly be enhanced by anyone who believes it in his hands.
five years when it came out the most complex and comprehensive system of revelations, intrigue, abuse, connivance, violence, outrages that had ever been revealed to humanity by Marx onwards.
covered and still covers almost all of human knowledge, with particular preference for subjects such as massacres of state, and the relationship between that crime, crimes against forests, animals, people (in that order, generally), secret societies, real chemical composition of chocolate, the Nazis passed this or that, aircraft contrails, ufo on the outskirts of Prato, Stephen King and John Lennon murderess, simulated moon landing and the entire Vietnam war used as a test to see if the Red Bull keeps you awake.
obviously did not happen (or do) anything.
The truth without the struggle to get there is nothing più niente di meno che la stima in chi te la sta dicendo.
Tanto lei è lì - ormai lo sai. Orrenda o dolciastra che sia, la tua voglia di farlo sapere a tutti si spegne ogni giorno di più.
E se non passa, l'effetto che fai è di chi vuol rifarti vedere il film bellissimo che ha appena visto e tu lo eviti dicendo preferisco guardarlo da solo pensando che non vuoi uno di fianco che ti chieda approvazione ogni tre scene e insomma alla fine eviti anche di vederlo anzi ti fa ansia solo pensarci.
La verità stanca.
E perché funzioni almeno un poco, dev'essere clamorosa e roboante.
Il consigliere comunale che - per comprarsi i ricambi della porsche in leasing - arraffa & sgraffigna, strappa Private indignation less water coming down from the balcony of the top when watered.
Yet that is where the pyramid begins finally see where it starts - and is the only point on which could you wanting to piss on.
Instead, you want something that will make the world tremble and the stone to the pyramid tip ends.
just for the sake of hearing distance, until they tell you where it is.
Maybe we were not ready for this, for having so much.
Already there are those who are just gagging to hear about it - and it will take years before he or his children that they live to be interested.
We did not even prepared a plan B.
Indeed, while all the doors were opened for all backstage what it is and has been, many decided to stay on track to dance.
A final dance electronic music that up to three years before it was called disco music (and everyone was secretly in love with at least one disk canzonaccia unmentionable) - because the truth just came out was that not all the disco music was shit.
Which was undoubtedly true, in fact.
But what changed was that, while hundreds of electronic artists could finally take off his donkey ears, millions of people continued to listen to disco music of shit - maybe yourself for a few years you tried to defend in the name of a renewed progressivism in the name of the new truth.
And you find yourself again but with other names, in times when all around you that you just bodies sway in the dark in a more or less awkward, people screaming in his ears to ask where the bathroom or marital status , the kids move away as if they were taken by a camera and the girls the same with his ass, the bar serves ice dear and you're waiting for something to happen around 120 beats nell'inutile QuattroQuarti that someone just is not paid at all propinano since you entered.
And the truth is that nobody likes.
But they should tell everyone.
What we simply want to talk to someone.
When we do, everything will change.

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The rumor dell'untore

"It was really now a game, the Rock, or will die .. disvolere" TB patients have one chance in three of survive, the riddle of the hat, three whites, two blacks, three blindfolded people each choose a hat, then by observing the hat of others who will be saved to deduce the color of their own. in principle, subject only to blacks who sees two hats. waive the first two, are killed. the last a questo punto ha la certezza che il suo cappello è bianco. infatti se fosse stato nero il secondo avrebbe capito di non poter avere esso stesso un cappello di quel colore, altrimenti il primo avrebbe avuto la certezza di indossare un cappello bianco, e così si sarebbe salvato. è solo grazie alla morte dei primi due che il terzo riesce a salvarsi. e se non l’avete capito fatevi un disegno. e non è un vero e proprio sacrificio, perchè il primi due non possono scegliere. gli attori prendono fiato ad ogni parola. la morte balla con loro, o forse è la vita, o forse è l’amore. il primo livello è il limbo del sanatorio, il secondo livello, la città. travestirsi da vivi per scendere a Palermo, fuggire nelle campagne, fra processions of peasants and saints, and in the red handkerchiefs full of coughing, in the scenes of the film having a child, hidden in his pocket in a hurry, before a look compassionate and concerned about them intercepted. Usually sooner or later in the film ever happened. the truth is that in all these millennia of wars and upheavals there is only one event comparable in importance to the small disaster of my death. one day I will try the exact words. that flow like poetry or music, when the carelessness kills the direct meaning, a train left the rails continues on course, dancing. the staircase unites heaven with hell, blood flows of roots that grow bare branches. waving our x-rays to die then scrutinized up being no pain inside, and having seen the dark evil white. to keep hidden under my pillow as a picture in his wallet taken a cab to the train station of Florence, in the second step you have the most beautiful smile. short hair disgrace, the dancer's dreams, the nights talking alone to guard a toll in the country, including games and invented stories, vomiting on the cars and bits of paper, as this eye of a needle, in which the future enters the past, and I do not care How beautiful to be young, and I do not care to read the documents about your true history, your lies embroidered reprocessed for fun or game invented. I love your hollow cheeks, your balls gone, the hair will have grown back, the death in your mouth and the last cries of life that will go off in your eyes. and then hide in your room without moving from his bed, his clothes and not lie in the closet for more tricks. or flee, to delay the time of separation, ran away in the automaker to tell you my life and my land. Death will, however, in a last burst of fever. and I will be healed. at the whim of God, this game to appease his loneliness, or ours. I will resign from the fortress, heal and come back among the living.

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The Angels do not have wings - the problem of updates in the Christian question.

They wanted to grow up without Christ.
No baptism, no time to religion, no communion, confirmation, cribs, sacrifices, priests, family trees, songs, Hail Marys to memorize, no speakers, no life after death, nothing to say before you begin to eat, nothing ottopermille, no priest who enters your home and you spray the furniture, no satan, angels, people with beards, farm animals, no catechism.
Up to 12 years, most of these notions that I had on Jesus and the like derived from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.
I said to myself in case I found myself having to choose just the grail, however, I manage. Dodge Christ was
activities prediletta della mia famiglia tutta - e io ci presi gusto (tranne che per il presepe: adoravo i plastici dei trenini e mi piaceva questa possibilità di far modellismo sulla natalità).
Vivendo nell'hinterland della città del vaticano - altrimenti chiamato Italia - incrociai più volte il sommo e i suoi scagnozzi.
Che si trattasse di maestre di religione che cercavano di tenermi in classe per rieducarmi, di filosofia compromessa o dell'interminabile sequela di madonne con bambino/alieno in braccio che tanto nobilitano la nostra storia dell'arte, me lo ritrovavo sempre davanti.
Bastava alzar lo sguardo in classe: nella perenne sonnolenza, sopra l'ardesia il capellone dava spunti - e prima ancora di chiedergli chi ti ha so small? you understood that someone was trying to get back on the list of accomplices.
Thus, between one and another, I went up, I removed it and put it in the closet - dry and cool as all the things you want to keep long.
But I was not understood.
in the years ahead, ignoring the bad things that men who declare themselves to intimate that the hippie took forward, I tried to get in touch with the believers.
not those which reduce the word and circumscribe and explain to you that God yes, but in a way that only I know, Catholics do not believe because you never know, not those who speak for Catholics but Protestants believe the stadium. A believer
tondo tondo, uno che crede per filo e per segno, che fa tutte le cosine che bisogna fare, che dentro di sé ha una convinzione salda come la forza di gravità, una luce che abbaglia tutto il resto.
Avere dentro di sé una verità del genere dev'essere come aver fatto un giro su un ufo mentre portavi il cane a pisciare e tornare a casa sapendo che c'è dell'altro nell'universo e avere della gente davanti e cercare di convincerla.
Mica roba da nulla.
E ho trovato molti - quasi tutti over 70 - con una sincera e disperata voglia di credere a tutto il pacchettone Cristo.
Ovvio che il suddetto pacchettone ha un tragico problema di fondo: come un qualsiasi altro programma o medium, va aggiornato - e non poco.
Un testo written by shepherds two thousand years ago that equated women with farm animals, who believed that the sun revolved were sold and the thunder of an eye in a triangle in writing, of course over the centuries has begun to creak.
One possibility would be to withdraw all the sacred texts on the market, take out a new one a bit 'more credible and say hey guys now that we use this with all this back . A little 'as when the subsidiary was changed to the medium.
Such a solution, albeit heavy on the shoulders of the company, would avoid problems such as conversations in the video below.
Just to mention the highlights: the tax return of Joseph and Mary, applied to the problem of the South Bethlehem area, because Jesus went around barefoot all the syringes that are out there (that Madonna is a bad mother) and, above all, angels do not have wings - otherwise we would be talking of malformations.
Closes the lady at the phone, pleased with the new updates to pacchettone courtesy of Radio Maria: you should use reason.
is, in fact.

Maca And Gastroparesis

The city of others.




We ate on the ground - the sour cream and the food as if the Russians did terribly cold outside.
None - if in doubt that it was not so cold - it came out.
I wake up and find the kitchen and the sun was distraught that cuts the glass blinds and screens. When the sun returns to Milan after a long time, treat him like a father that never happened: the parties do when you see him open the door and look for a place to rest your bags with presents, but dens in a special resentment - and swear that, at the right time, do not forget the days spent waiting for him.
For now, let us set aside and let something shine.
It may be that drunk by the light, you find yourself thinking that the city is actually yours. What
sidewalks, parks, registry offices, the median, the courtyards of the houses, swimming pools and trails of red earth, churches and bridges, you relate to - the faces on billboards and promise wink tell the truth.
forget that you are allowed only in transit slots between the buildings, dodging bodies and shit and traps for cyclists, forget that none of those buildings is yours, and you do not know anyone who has a mansion, forget the parks - which now Dew does seem moved - close as any shopping center, and left to right cross and lie down.
I go out of my house and I leave behind me thinking that this is not my house is a gray building in the hands of a family that controls the gray dozens of others and asks me money every month to let me be in there when the night comes.
And looking around I see only gray building in the hands of banks, insurance companies and a few other families who only know each other.
Those that I know I struggle a lifetime to have a few square meters of tiles within those buildings, and try to stay together and shed blood for generations to faceless lenders.
The city, after all, is not for everyone.
It is certainly not our (whoever we are).
It's sunny, I agree, and today I'll make you smile so big when you meet.
But remember that if one day I do not understand something, it will be because I could no longer visit the silent world of others.