will amaze you, as now, the objects around him: Do you think your nonsense, the fact that life was sad and far away from you because it was a transient, and were waiting to escape. We saw in Northern Europe, happy to speak another language. Do you feel short, like all those years ago. Look at the dirty cup, and a mix for pancakes, and makes you regret your life sucks and then hatch a pleasure to be small, and thin, for the names of things, or the ants are the words, or for pens that run through the sheets, or to touch the keys of a keyboard.
What's inside? you make others laugh, who uses sarcasm to offend and defend. You have no enemies, no friends. Do you realize that when you feel alone, empty scroll lists, and you're afraid. You're a little 'more like you wanted, but in the end ... you wonder ... it makes sense to walk, and not so often, to Milan, where Milan is not yours, and you do not own.
And here there is the fire of adolescence, there is the garden of the parents, there are the hugs of friends. There you fall in love at first sight and you disenchant grim, like a dog kicked saddened by unexpected and unwarranted.
You've become one of many words and little words inside out. A short time in the past, too much for the future. You are nothing. But this have never been afraid to say so.
