words: cosmic day Scazzi
The alarm rings at the usual time, but this morning I was sleepy, and so after I turn it off and go back to sleep. After a while I wake up the sound of the phone you are downloading. I let him do and I put my head under the pillow. It's raining outside, I feel the drops on the window panes, the chill wind of the north wind that whistles.
I get up late, but I do not know what time it is cold, I put nell'accappatoio and wriggling in the kitchen for breakfast, a little bit more sleep, coffee, milk, biscuits. I seem to have a thousand years. Being caught in a dream just faded away, the smell of coffee does not cancel.
I get up late, but I do not know what time it is cold, I put nell'accappatoio and wriggling in the kitchen for breakfast, a little bit more sleep, coffee, milk, biscuits. I seem to have a thousand years. Being caught in a dream just faded away, the smell of coffee does not cancel.
Out airs Wuthering Heights. I go back to sleep under the covers, still warm, the wind throws the snowflakes on the windows.
I wake up at a later time unknown, pendant to the bathroom, and I'm in the shower. I put a sweatshirt comfortable and warm, I go into the living room and turn on the PC, check email on FB a couple of messages to my brother who is locked in the house, off a road 'leppega' of snow and rain. Today rid nothing, nothing at all, they all point, the best.
Prepare some payments on line, complete a couple of documents to be sent tomorrow morning. Always raining outside, rooftop snow beckons. The Benjamin continues to lose its leaves. Complete the picture the second trumpet blast of the apocalypse, but so far nothing yet.
Prepare some payments on line, complete a couple of documents to be sent tomorrow morning. Always raining outside, rooftop snow beckons. The Benjamin continues to lose its leaves. Complete the picture the second trumpet blast of the apocalypse, but so far nothing yet.
I decide to have lunch, even if the time is long past, a bit of warming up leftovers from dinner last night. The vegetable pie of the evening, a bit of couscous, chicken soup cooked in beer, brown bread and drink some green tea.
A hot cup of coffee at a French port on my couch, where I put in my favorite blanket. I befriends an old book on Chinese civilization that I have trimmed the ziaOnesta. Unreadable.
I fall asleep in the hooded wool.
I wake up the bell, and waits for no one because I decided not to open.
kicking game a little in front of the television, Egypt replaced the Escort in the opening credits. Grandchildren of the alleged bank Mubarak is the collapse of the real dictatorship. The attack and the looting of the Museum of Cairo are yet another sign of decadence in which we are sealed. I worry more than the devastation of a hundred dead in the streets. I go down to feed in Lagatta, is not there. I leave the biscuits in the bowl. Is it still raining and the snow is gone.
I make a few finishing touches to a frame, but without much conviction, forget it.
It's dark outside, in the silence of the input clock chimes eight.
The day slipped away, there remains a great torpor, and some thoughts malicious and often, as pestilential vapors, and that dream, heavy, yet again the image of a timetable and a date, June 20, 2011.
I make a few finishing touches to a frame, but without much conviction, forget it.
It's dark outside, in the silence of the input clock chimes eight.
The day slipped away, there remains a great torpor, and some thoughts malicious and often, as pestilential vapors, and that dream, heavy, yet again the image of a timetable and a date, June 20, 2011.
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