Silent Treatment Counter

power of multiplication, come to me. For

I hate my faculties. As if we did not know.
I hate to be in bed, leaving aside the * reasons * that I have brought us. I hate to just the place itself. I hate the inhuman
disorganization [yeah, I had used speech therapy too well, I know].
I spent the last three hours to put together my curriculum. Also why do the curriculum free, and then, essentially, do what I want. Following the guidelines, okay. But anyway, choosing the courses that I like to attend. More or less.
because yesterday morning I went to the manager of the courses, which is then a lovely woman and super-inclusive, but they are happy not to have to give even a consideration. Perhaps then it is wonderful as examiner, eh. But, in fact. However
. She last year I had predicted a bright future without examination of Geography. Yesterday I did exactly what the contest, making note that * I * do the same. I'm contemplating suicide since then.
And then, here. Courses begin Monday and I will hurt just thinking about it. Please zero. Maybe not. More than not having desire, I have the anxiety of exams that I will find myself having to write, whereas I have to finish those in the first year. And the fact of having to type another ten, I slam a lot.
Vorrei solo finirla. Non ci riesco a prenderla con calma.
Sto cercando di condensare 3 anni+un tot in 2 anni+ un tot, ed è un'impresa che, beh. Eviterei un pò a tutti.
Peraltro, bramo il dono dell'ubiquità.
Perchè, per esempio: lunedì mattina,
- tra le dieci e le undici: Religioni del mondo classico e Letteratura latina;
-tra le undici e mezzogiorno: Letteratura latina e Storia dell'arte contemporanea.
Ma il meglio: martedì mattina:
-tra le undici e mezzogiorno: Storia dell'arte contemporanea, Teoria della letteratura e Glottologia.
Ma anche: giovedì mattina:
-tra nine and ten: Religions of the classical world, Latin literature and contemporary Italian literature.
And: Tuesday afternoon:
among the seventeen-and eighteen History and criticism of cinema, comparative literature and aesthetic philosophy.
Just a few examples. Uninteresting.
But anyway.
Shoot.

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Victor. Note

On the threshold of noise
[Victor]

In many ways the night
has no name,
has only one color .
In many meaning
the world has no size,
but only directions.
know, men,
that there are cracks
in which the voice of the sea seeps
-cracks dream
the cracks in his sleep.
When the fog
salt water
-spark.
grasp lost horizons
not enough winds
- their hands
watch for the sun.
not enough moon
- with halos and corners
draped in blue.
the streets never traced
not enough to silence
-even if it's the only thing left
; wedged between the lines.
Among fractures s'inciampa
and nell'ululato the dark
no going back.
are veils and gauzes
-razors are
words, on the wounds.
Atmospheres and balsamic are poisons.
Take me with you on the shore
oceans devastated without ports,
there with you on the sand
brittle of my broken dreams.
with you, cries when innocence
-when he screams louder.
When yesterday's uproar
a blow-bullet here,
here in my chest, and today
is a path to be condemned.
There, in your maze so beautiful.
The daily reality is so fragile
-dust, to sweeten hot water.
Take me with you
langue where the darkness.
Where comes the dawn
-with its winds, which then
I graze without scratching
the fuzzy skin of the heart.
Light,
take me where the angels breathe.
But do not touch on the way
these wings are too heavy-
and close and bleed
shadows on the asphalt and sink
and my keys .
; Io che sono il nero
portami a vedere il sole.
                    Coprimi le orecchie
quando le mura strillano
e stonano e rombano echi.
Il suono, lo creo per il silenzio.
Portami dove passeggiano
  whispers
and everything is and only barely perceptible.
Where the winds are
breezes and mists are dim lights.
There, the entrance hatch of the world,
there, my angel, love me and sighs.
not drop from the clouds
-breathing winds and chills.
And the hem of lace the night
that I may turn to your aurora
-your hopes.
Falle mine, let's crystal
-the doorway of the winds.

regard to OT, is the only poem that has been able to write.
Perhaps because there is already in the history of all the poetry I am capable of, or maybe because it's really him.
Victor is poetry, it is more than anyone else, each other.
not a question of love more or less than all the others. There are characters of which I speak is still difficult. But he
. I do not know. It 's like the white rose. Would you say that it is a black rose, Victor. But it is not.
He is white.
More than any other.

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super-ultra-mega-very important.

examination of contemporary history is gone.
honestly did not think to make it, I spent over an hour this morning while I waited to say I'm leaving now . What then is I was not prepared, but I had such a confusion in my head to forget even the subject of your choice. And when I saw that there was also the assistant crowds, his face took the shape of a guillotine. ^ ^ "Let's absurd that there was a warm, now in Genoa, and that I had made just three kilometers on foot and wake up without even a coffee in the body to go to catch the train. Let the humidity is 50 percent. The coffee machine to take me sick to incredible heights. And a girl I've known for years, but I know very little anyway, I blathered ear to the above-mentioned hours. Let's get that at some point I had also a crying jag, which in minutes before an exam I had never happened.
But, in fact.
I was. And it's gone.
And no matter who is a thirty-praise. Nothing to do with either the assistant [of course I had to give it to her, imagine if I caught the super-kind and wonderful teacher] helped me abstruse questions, and that I knowingly and consciously is the other way round.
The fact is that I can not reduce me to a minimum for an exam. That is, not human.
A speech was not. In bed.
that each exam will be like a rock on this new road, and that anxiety has pathogenic out of my way to * force *. The fact that I feel that I can not afford to postpone an exam-taking but not less than thirty. I do not know.
are exhausted.
Really.

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Please, tell me what * is * a human.

Unbelievable. If this is a man, if this is the world. I refuse.

I'm not a controversial person. Not much. This does not make me honor, but I tend to diplomacy. Though. Diplomacy, in a broader context, would be the basis of parlamentarietà. That would be the basis of democracy. What would be the result of the wars of the twentieth century, the system would be better and more representative of our time. Minorities. Rights.
But today, the rights were not respected. Not only that, I'm not really recognized.
is not a new thing, of course. We all know that. The
* know * that the rights, in reality, do not give a damn no-emeritus, however, who should not. Because even at the trial of the Nazis at Nuremberg, have important things unsaid, or have gone unnoticed tragedies like the Holocaust. Because when the world applauded the Communists, for their support against fascism, hid himself in the price of their revolution. Because today, today there is a woman who could be stoned to death for adultery, and there are still places in this is allowed. It takes an international campaign because a seventeen year old is not killed. It takes signatures and petitions and protests to stir something. And
are useless. A Nothing.
Nothing, because a blonde girl in red sweatshirt can put the puppies in a bucket, take them and throw them away in a river on stones in a river, breaking his neck or drowning, one, two, three, one after the other, while whining and crying desperately, and she laughs. Ride and resumes, quest'infame sen'anima and heartless, he recovered and put on public channels. And the law. What the hell is the law?
the Law by a fine. A. FINE. What is the point, can you explain this? Five thousand euro are NOT a punishment. Why this
* what * that I would not define the person, not even the only one. It is not the only one.
The world is chock full of such events. And the silence, the silence in which they pass such crimes [yes, crime, why put an end to life, torture, and 'a crime], the silence in which all this passes, it is indecent.
INDECENT.
fact, not indecent. Indecent remember something immoral. We are not talking of attacks on public decency. We're talking about lives torn, mutilated lives we are talking about and stripped and abandoned, lives used and ignored.
What makes a man better than an animal?
Who gave the right to exploit it? Who decided that man is superior?
Man has taken the world. And he did it by deleting everything that opposed him. Always.
It 's normal, you say. It 's the law of the jungle. The end justifies the means, right? He said Machiavelli.
If you study at school, will have had something serious to say, no? This justifies it.
But Hitler also studied. Who defends Hitler? Who will defend
MPs who have said Yes to vivisection?
guess their homes, they could defend the guard dogs.
But I hope we do not have the animals themselves. I feel sorry for these creatures.
Why would they would be more worthy of living compared to stray? The
are the same.
I * screw *. And as such, should be protected, dammit, should be maintained and defended and protected.
They have no voice, but they have hearts and feelings, have nerves that discharge impulses to pain, have the ability to feel love, true love, more so than any man. Why
animal love is love without conditions.
not tell you that you will love if you're thin, if you're nice, if you're good and kind and rich. Does not tell you who will love you if you empty the garbage, that will love you if you're a good parent, if you are an integral part of society.
The love of an animal does not obey any laws of the market.
Instead, their lives to do it. Why? Why he decided the man.
But who is more humane?
A dog abandoned in the parking lot of a supermarket that takes away from the kittens as abandoned cars, or a parliamentary overpaid approving the torture and killing of innocent creatures and will sleep tonight in the shelter his bed?
Tell me what a human being.
Spiegatemelo.
There is no end and as a means to approve the removal of life and the voluntary infliction of pain.
I want to understand what humanity is.
For now, I do not see it anywhere.

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Dream on.

I want to win the Lotto.
would be more correct to say that I need it. Because when you find yourself at the dinner for the birthday of the husband of your mother, and say out loud without realizing it, I want to go to the Greenland and stay there forever, away from everything and everyone , maybe discomfort begins to be a bit too strong. Maybe you are in the same psychological condition of the same time a year earlier. And think again, and think that has gone under the bridge an ocean, but you're still stuck on the shore. This Side. And just to arrive there, there seems to be so.
So, I need so many pennies. That does not make happiness, but, in fact. Meanwhile, let me look, then I will tell you.
Of course, I would disconnect for a while. But the only way to afford it, would not have to graduate at very short notice for the damned, are absurdly simple fact that back. As if I had the brain of a degree that if it deserves it.
And as if I had not already done everything the deck needed.
There are so many things I would do. Beginning with the charity-children, the sick, for the animals.
and gifts, I have a list of gifts that never ends. Apartments, houses, cars, motorcycles, travel. Travel.
thousand places I would like to see. Each with a particular person.
With the money I could change the lives of many people. People who have always fought, but has not yet seen the results so that life can not make the minimum effort to be fucking beautiful. Decent. Fair, at least.
not ask me for a while.
A studio in Paris, when I want to go.
moved to Florence.
Open coffee arts dream of a lifetime.
founded a magazine that goes by the scientific literature, the artistic to the doctor.
Then there are the most delirious dreams ^ ^ Type gather all models of OA and OT and host a dinner
^ ^ And do the same for the RDV, and give this dinner at R & F. In return for everything they have given and give me here.
make so many trips to Ireland. We helped many people.
A house for my mother. A fund for my brother, for all his future.
I can think of anything extraordinary, in fact.
dream is always nice. Pity then that the dreams you wake up.
With highlighter in hand, and a book on European civil war from '14-'45 end.