A Man Without a Timetable
It was all very simple once: we remembered without the insults we’ve received lately, the sea was clear. I was a man without a schedule, a bar, a street, a square, I left the house to understand on that day who we were, all I needed was to have a display screen in front of my eyes, to perceive with a software what was being ensured, among other things also a state of submission or whether in Rome they were studying what everything would be for everyone, and how no one can speak because of last week.
It’s necessary to chase time if we still want evil, and why am I feeling a little down… do you want a coffee, go to the kitchen, Italian human, because stopping, the energy is gone, or, the price of life was too high again today, uh, too true, or maybe she’s already too far away, can’t find a thread of wine and we don’t exist anymore, as significant details or other matters that hurt especially when the blows come in the morning.
By now, everyone has left behind their personal process of growth, a job hurts deeper than another same hurt also hurts the father or mother, a relative, a friend, and there would be no need to ask what we do tomorrow, what it means you can’t leave yourself.
Better a winter chocolate at the bar, or you who live in the mountains even in the center, who talk only about yourself. Here, the immediate present seems like the death of…
