and fatigue are sometimes despair, sometimes the hope ... and hope for the best that he made to this story, for this life.
the sensation of being about to faint and shaking that holds together the bones in this waltz of pleasures and duties, most recently the second and the desire to close a lot of windows, dim the lights and scpergnersi slowly into a sleep that it rests more on a night that brings nightmares to the place of advice and a journey, a journey in which a solitary try in the gray of the asphalt, then this lane in the 130 emergency, my emergency.
I ask you to support me, because if I fall again, who knows if I can still get up in the confusion of our time, our day routine when you get up and you find yourself more.
Violence around you crazy with pain ... and call it growth, and we are old rucksacks full of unnecessary loss of memory of children who have been surrounded by flowers.
I take off and put his hat in salute to these hours of nonsense, petrified, lapidary looking for the strength to do another step, in spite of everything, although I do not believe anymore, that I pretend not fool me anymore, nothing more nothing ...
and music, and dance, and the dream for which I want to fight even though I lost the power to protect me from bad mood today.
So after many small silences them another slipping a bit 'less dark ... in the hope that someone can hear the cry of the siren, I always ... anguish of this crossing that is killing me slowly.
I hope this returns like a Christmas time, when I stopped believing, I tried to forget ... as a snack, a blanket and a fire in front of which stop to get warm, that warmth which becomes fisico da non essere più morale o blasfemia.
E cerco il tuo corpo dove posso trovarlo per chiudermi dentro.
la fata verde 
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