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Droppie (IX parte)

But who would give thought to drink while pushing the bike to stand on the Tiber. You are never single by choice. He engaged the autopilot and almost without realizing it had arrived in front of the bicycle shop in the Jewish ghetto. She went and asked politely to the owner, or so it seemed to remember, if you could please give him a gonfiatina. The gentleman behind the counter who was not even answered him and waved his hand to use by only using the air-lift made freely available to customers outside the store. But the boy insisted. He wanted to take this opportunity to also change the seat that became immersed in the whole water when it rained and there was already to be too close to the brakes. The seat costs 30 €. He had to leave the bike and go to withdraw it the next day, the man muttered again without lifting his eyes from the account register. Thirty euro was more than I had paid for the bike that was stolen, yes, but it was still a Rossignoli and in perfect condition, "said the boy and asked to see the saddles.

The jew not answered. The shop was empty, he was the only customer and simply could not understand why so rude. Nothing could justify such behavior, especially by that old jew merchant who also must have experienced the hard way that same lack of respect, the same hateful indifference was now paying him. Besides the age difference the lives of that jew disillusioned and confused young homosexual that were united by the same destiny of discrimination and suffering. A common condition and a common feeling, just as he said the letter from Silvia-you said-and once again his thoughts and his friend since high school. But it was only for a brief moment. The boy did not even have time to recover from the surprise that the owner had already thrown out of the shop, railing against him and his bike shit.

Returning home on foot in the grip of a tremendous tension-head down and clenched fists on the handlebars of a bike-a sea of \u200b\u200brage ready to burst into tears, the boy felt even more confused than when he left. What was happening to him? It was like seeing them from outside, angry with the world without knowing why and without being able to control himself. On the Tiber which took him back home, knackered as the wheels of his bike, tried to analyze better. His was a life full of adventures and rich in emotions. He felt satisfied and happy with his choices, yet so strangely restless. Why? Blame his expectations ever so excessive, overwhelming, extreme? Its innate tendency to foolish daydream that stimulate certain to improve but alienated from reality? Everyday life on the other hand had always terrified. For him it was not live, but survive. He had inherited from his father a heroic vision of man and a cult of life lived intensely in the search for knowledge of self, others and the world. But life for him was always somewhere else. And his antics to the continuous Looking for something would not let him enjoy what he had. Happiness is wanting what you have, her grandmother always told him. But this story is not whether he had ever drunk. The false and it sounded so defensive. A verse from poor losers and, like "size does not matter" to those who have little. And there was nothing I hated more than the boy of mediocrity and small cocks. If taken with the horoscope, which provided a fantastic year for the Taurus. He had let themselves be overwhelmed by malicious mermaids astrological: chimeras of printed paper that never pay this pushed him to ask more and more about his future. On the old, who kept the last Smemoranda year of high school he had read a quote that said you can be young once but immature all your life. He was on the verge of thirty years but did not know what life had in Serbian for him or how long he had left. The alarm sounded on the phone. It was the hour of his pills.

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Kansas city, where all and say all they told me not stop in Kansas City because there was nothing much to see, well, they were right, luck would have it, the two boys were very nice and I am staying with their beautiful house, air conditioner included. The heat, never a word was so hated, maybe I had forgotten, the humidity was so high that even opening the mouth could drink! Here is the famous BBQ sandwich, sandwich with half a kilo of meat on the grill, here this was the best thing in town. They say the city is second to Rome for the number of fountains, I saw and took advantage on a hot afternoon, I refreshed my legs! The city, although the name could mislead even the U.S. (with the rebate, the famous Yankee stereotype of bad geography) is not in Kansas, but in Missouri, this explains why my search of the farm of Clark Kent and Dorothy did not bring results. With a super economic Mega Bus, $ 5, I arrived in St Louis, Lindbergh understand why he wanted to take the flight, to breathe some 'fresh air, the good thing is that all homes c'el'aria conditioning , as well as in museums, I went to visit a free, beautiful history, and an additional charge, but recommended by everyone as a must-see thing, well if you go to St. Louis and I suggest the City Museum and you will Children will you have them for a stroll with you, also send them to hell! The option is to be a fine company of drunks, like bachelor party, then yes, it's a playground full of tunnels and also did bad!
Even with a hot nail haunts me, the Amish, they have beautiful websites, but they live in the ass to the wolves, or go with the Amish tour or go by car, now I'm looking for someone to come with me, but it seems that nobody cares about the Amish, it must be like for us elves who live somewhere in Emilia, I think, comparison too far?
My house was an apartment to me, the neighbor of a couple of friends of a friend of mine, that is, one that did not know me at all, I left the his house for a week ... I'm still surprised.
For Thanksgiving I made a cake, no, not the tiramisu because it took me too many expensive ingredients, but a good apple strudel! Cooked and eaten!

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Finally after a long search I managed to find a ride with Ride - $ 20 per share up in Albuquerque, NM, for the legendary Route 66, which I must say a mythical very little, only to be long, go in the middle of nowhere and Casino have fanned out in various reserves of Native America. Why own stocks being run, are gambling their entry main, and this is good because at least begin to build structures within the reserve. I went to visit one, they seemed to be in Mexico, poor, without paved roads and the people lying in their homes of mud waiting for the support of the state of America now, I would not want to insinuate anything, but there plenty of room for everyone here, agree that the land was theirs, but now the owners are dead!
Mexico Albuquerque style is much more of Mexico itself, the houses are all brown and when I explained that in my village can not paint the house the color you want but the council from the different color options and I have laughed ... maybe not realize that they live cacchetta color in a city?? The family that hosted me I was filled with food and a little 'that's why I chose to be honest. Santa Fe
much prettier, a city art gallery, are everywhere and in my opinion a view seen them all. They also happened during the week of free museums in one especially beautiful, the conquest of the Far West. For July 4th, Independence Day, were organized activities, concerts throughout the day and morning of Pancakes! Because they were looking for volunteers and so I offered the morning she saw me in the guise of dealing with its coffee, clear that the ' I did a charity and not for pancakes, coffee and a free T-shirt, Well let's say that if they gave me to eat I would have never happened.

The first guy I stayed all day listening to classical music and singing, the second lived a little 'outside the pool but had, in fact, Santa Fe's last days were spent lazing in the sun before leaving Kansas City, I stopped a couple of days by the family to Albuquerque, I met his daughters and son was sent to an Italian restaurant, I ate everything! Parmigiana, pasta with artichokes, veal and tiramisu the night ... I am not able to sleep ... but what satisfaction! I found a Diner in Albuquerque, '50s-style restaurant on Route 66, seemed to be in Grease!

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Droppie (VIII parte)

The next day the boy awoke and happier after a hearty breakfast with panettone Silvia Marchesi who had brought him from London entered the studio, decided to take up his thesis. But when he opened the iBook, he found a note written in crayon. It is not at all surprised to find it. Silvia did not go without ever leaving a mark of its passage. It was his style and he liked it.

"I feel a CARTOON, SO
never dies,
not cease to exist, the children laugh

DO NOT PARTICULARLY SMALL AND LARGE PROJECTS

STRONTIUM IN ANY SMALL SPACE AND WITHOUT AIR, WHERE
small computers,
the desire to have small profit you're rushing. "

E 'Lucio Dalla, but I think so too.
Put a glass out the window and wait. When it is full of rain we drink to us. To our being so different in this brothel's happening in our lives, our being so similar in common way to feel and believe in people and love. We are no longer children, we are not yet adults. Let us at least it was nothing, alone.

Your Silvia.

The boy folded the sheet in half, closed the computer and left. It was a wonderful day. It was hot and decided to take a ride in the center but the bike had a flat tire and the front desk where to leave his comfort at that pump was bolted.
goalkeeper had confessed that it was enough to push the old wooden door to open it, even when it was locked. The boy he had never tried it but that day he needed to clear a bit 'ideas and there was no nothing better than a nice ride. So she took courage and went to the concierge. He pushed up the left wing of the door, made sure that no one came down the stairs and opened with a bang. He looked immediately to the left, behind the chair, but the pump was not the usual place. Cursing his laziness and disorder of the goalkeeper tried in the booth. In the closet, under the table, even in the broom closet. Nothing. He had to go out and shutting the door behind him by forcing the lock with another rap equal and opposite to the first. And luckily this time no one even came down the stairs. He went back to light in May and looked at the bike the wheel on the ground, looking for an alternative solution. He was not going to surrender. The day was too good to return home. To do what? Watch TV? Read? Same with potatoes.

let alone get to study. He felt too nervous for that. The beloved had turned upside down. He was really that bad? Yet had told him that David was growing beautifully, that as parents become attached to the child also became softer to her. That they were helping to raise him and his feelings of guilt were slowly disappearing along with the memory of that bastard Alberto. And he? How was he? He had always considered Silvia her best friend and he felt particularly close to her and share in his life, yet he had to admit that their lives had taken different paths since the city had changed his homosexuality to live without guilt and waiver. The day seemed so far gone along with Silvia at school in Milan. She had become a mother now. He was gay and even if it could never have a child because of his illness. And even adopt it. Of course they were both single but for very different reasons. Yet according to her were so similar in the choice of loneliness. The pain of that loneliness.