March 1, 2001
Shortly before his death , my aunt became ill with Alzheimer's centennial in a sudden flash of lucidity, he looks at me with eyes bright with fear, he said And mo ', who's the matter with you?!
I think it's dead restless, his aunt, beautiful, the thought of me 'alone' with two small sons, then objectively, and beautiful. So beautiful that men like flies attracted to honey, they could not believe the men, who by me, normal, were born two wonders. Once one even told me if I had lived at the time of Mussollini, that you began to have children, that improve the breed!
Here, Zia, beautiful, you were right, although that time, then you're dead shortly after, I do not I could not even send to fuck, you know, made me really mad and then you made me cry, and then tens of times you made me laugh with her friends, made like me, that we are many, Zia: E mo ', who's the matter with you! "
And I wanted to reassure you, I do not really know why no one took me. What the children are no longer blond dolls are children, people. And I, well, 'I'm the one that you know, that you care nu' ugly 'character!
And you kept right, Zia. And now that there are more, I echo your wise decisions, so many times. In fact, for a certain period of time , I wrote them all your sentences, maybe, I thought, then I forget them.
But no. Do not forget me.
And then I wanted to say something else. Those two are my children that the children exchanged in the illness of my mother - your sister - and you were certainly not their faces, with names, with accounts, but you loved him. Here, they are musicians. Certainly not the concert that you were, but they are young, who knows, maybe if something good will studying do. Already read music, and write, write notes to the Small is even ordered, but the notebooks that we miss him understand anything. And when we arrive at grandma's house, everything is still the same as when you were there, your corner of the sofa is exactly there, there is still the shape of your body impressed ... when we get home quickly becomes a mess !!!!... of voices, gestures, and then they play and sometimes they fight, all mixed up, you'd close your eyes and curled her forehead from the noise. But then you'd bring his foot and articulated the long fingers on the keys visible in the air, to hear them play. You would have found peace, you would have found the right breath, this is present and the past that no longer exists, without a lot of confusion, without dismay. That tired!, You're right, aunt. You get tired so much, I could see in his face.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Yesterday, then, a friend of a bit 'more than friends, I said it was difficult to fall in love with me because of the children I have, in short, yes I said exactly, but I have thought (and mo' who's the matter with you!), and then , you know, it's not the first time I they say it.
23:02 hours
The first is in a club, do not worry, it's in gambissima, no bullshit, and little is coming from 'Umbria, in a few hours will be here, happy and disorderly, with the shoulder in alto, and soprano in his hand, and a couple of first prizes received, and I'm glad I could mica celebrate Mother's Day without him.
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