anger. Anger at the time that I let go too often without actually living it. Anger at the paranoia in my head and get drunk I can not contain, enclose within a barbed fence. Anger at the lack of protection that I offer to my heart, exposing it to weather the storms of my lunatic. Anger at the thousands of "if" that can never be transformed into facts and leave pales in comparison to a thousand-and-a "but." I watch them fade away, property and disillusioned. Anger at the tales to which I cling to the good intentions only theoretical, for the nice surprise to find that dream back to a page that I decided to turn. I feel anger for the independence that I would like to close the noose around the throat that I feel every time I would like to draw me my hours and my living space, followed by another even more stifling than the guilt for not being grateful to who keeps me. Anger at the disappointment of the Alma Mater Studiorum of Bologna, because of when I attend seems to me to look at my future through a broken pair of binoculars, which refers to blurred images and distant, unreadable. Anger at missed opportunities.
anger, and too much. A healthy anger, however, those that do not put your feet on the head with remorse. Which do exist, but which does not grant the honor to hold the rudder. Spippy grits his teeth and feel that they can shake off all those weights that do not make her smile as he would like. Spippy clenches his fists and a plan to live a life that is not his. Spippy maybe also try to resume writing as he did once, why fix some ink stain on a white sheet is the equivalent for her to get in front of a mirror and try to understand what goes and what does not. For what and for whom getting drunk is really worth of paranoia and what and by whom, however, it is better to practice abstinence purifying.
I have a notebook in front of me, one of those for children, with figures outlined only by dark contours. It's up to me to decide whether to leave them in black and white or color.
begin from the sky. It is no longer dark. Pass me a striking blue.
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