[ Author: Sonia ]
The Book was the only rational thing and tangible in that context.
I am often confused themselves, lately I was going a bit 'too often. And then, in this parallel world that had not reached the city of dreams, now the noise of life had forced me into behaviors that are not uplifting ... all that crap with these desperate criminals like me who were talking nonsense nonsense. And the white lenses ... At one point I forgot to keep them in force, pinch my eyes, I saw opacified. I'm scared as a child.
course, very nearly was better to do with frosted glass filter rather than seeing the world on fire this corrosive, sticky, misshapen. Here, between alcohol and the rest, a rest too, the reality and the dream became confused, looked out the nightmares become dialogue partners, finding their own way, will assume the role of the ghosts of my past and disguises this. What a band of desperate delusional ... poor Denise, as if she had gone, all that trucidume, helpless, she was so fond of art, literature, cinema and music ...
walked with difficulty with the mind shot, view the spots, the rumble of the alley and the smell the box on him. Button continues the pocket, was there with me, that book. I had always followed, I had loved so little, but taught. Or maybe nothing as my state. It was faded and yellowed like my life. The title, alluding to that enigmatic ... not that logic would suggest. He spoke of nature, rocks and minerals, fauna and flora. The blinds were of particular types of translucent crystals similar to opal lens through which we could see the world as a dream. Fascinating contents tavole a colori che avevano fatto brillare i miei occhi di bambino. Ora erano stinte, le rocce frantumate, i petali graffiati, le scritte a metà.
E quella dedica, la grafia tremolante e obliqua della Nonna Amalia… cristallo, cuore che arde…sfera di luce…che illusione! Avrebbe voluto un nipote tutto perbenino e buono, soprattutto un bravo cristiano con le mani giunte, gli occhi al cielo e la riga da una parte. La fede, La luce, il cuore che arde….. Si era ritrovata con un somaro agitato e ribelle con le ginocchia sbucciate e i capelli a serpente che, ad una età indegna e non avendo combinato niente di sensato, beveva come una spugna e si faceva di tutto, si infilava le lenti a contatto accompagnandosi ad un consesso other brain-injured wretches such a scold him and then get slaughtered like an idiot from himself, not even had a tutor ... The only hope was that the grandmother Amalia could never see me from the afterlife and thus no afterlife, please .. Other than color plates! Here was all black and white, or rather of that dead-rat grigino even more disgusting. Poor Denise ..
In the library I was blind luck on the contrary, to always know where it was and put him in the illusion that the upside-down could straighten my life. Sometimes, when I crossed the line, lost the illusion of finding myself and understand how it went with Denise and her eyes lost forever I saw up there Grandmother Amalia I smiled, holding the glass of salvation, a heart that burned in his chest pierced with arrows like that all the saints, and a mesmerizing light all around. But
lasted little, Grandma was pissed off black and sent me to live in that country, all holding hands proudly in the heart, the crystal and the flame.
And then the whole thing, dream and reality, pursuits, mirrors, put black and white eyes seemed a trivial game, an escape from everyday life, without Denise and without meaning.
In that moment of temporary sanity, I might as well go home, put the blind in place, maybe the right way you never know in life .... maybe after having made a nice shot that clears for good ideas ... ... maybe.
END
0 comments:
Post a Comment