A hello to all my dear readers, we returned after a long pause, causes school and youth crisis mystical ... it happens ...
We have not forgotten, however, problems that continue to accumulate in our country and worsen.
So to start we wanted to put a piece of a book by one of our old friend: Alessandro Pellegrini . In his writings not far from reality in the facts, according to one of our humble opinion, we find reflections that sometimes even blending in our heads, maybe not with the same words.
'll leave you to read, you will judge and I highly recommend commentary.
My irony: Confessions of a wasted life
Directed and written by Alessandro Pellegrini.
And here I am, as usual, silent, lost without reference to grasp without guides to admire. A Dante Reconstructed from the past, dusted off and copied at the time without our top quality ink, a draft if you can say. I do not ask
understanding, nor admiration, as things are that my heart does not suck though wounded and stepped aside. This as already noted by the title will not be a ride on the wings of imagination, nor the deep breath before the cliff that awaits those who are nervous. No it will simply be a text on which beat my reflections that now do not count in this world. Beat thoughts because now they are raped by more worldly and modern. We say ... out of fashion or simply abandoned in this regard let me quote Bödele "witches ceased to exist when we have stopped burning." Poetry has ceased to persist and persist in the soul of men when the progress has made us evolve, in a sense, I am a monkey. I
Note that in this premise there are already too many hypocrisies and ironies, are not even capable of literary subtlety, because as the old man has forgotten the taste of youth, the man has forgotten culture ... despite what I try to recover, to emerge from rot of ignorance, ignorance of the dark where dreams wither, suffocated and destroyed occlusion of the mind.
Well, I digress this has revealed the memory of what I'm here: my story. To begin to depart in the most original of ways: making you a short description. No joke, the only thing there is to say is that I'm a simple guy, with a body, two arms, two legs and a mind. A computer that processes information with impeccable logic: it is not accurate, I think the logic is the last refuge of the desperate and the only answer is irrationality. Irrationality of which we can find no trace as already discussed. I apologize for the crude language that I speak: who reads these pages are certainly more aware and intelligent than me. Especially if you close the book and leave it aside.
From my rough sketch idea erudite concepts can be decadent to me: Well you're not far from the hand that threw the stone. Yes they are a decadent style and practice. Irony and hypocrisy of my concepts. Like someone will write a final something is left behind, between his teeth, bitterness and grief will be my tools. Even now in this hot summer evening late at night I find myself in front of a car, a repository of ignorance. Funny. These are the ideas that animate my poor hands at the moment and will always be ideas that one day society will change. But these ideas are for this are just ideas, not truth. Two hours have passed since I turned on my inhibited and drank my insanity to throw in this confession makes me naked. Definitely it is late ... is dawning. Well ... I think that's enough for tonight. Thanks for everything. I'm going to hear the thoughts of a world that wakes up in the aftermath of a weary day. Goodbye.
Cacio91, Fuser, Didz, thanks to Ale
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