do not really have much to say lately.
After the new kitten, after the post-holiday in Ireland, after the move is not that it happened so much in my life.
say that my days are spent between train trips, sidewalks of Milan and a short time at home doing the laundry, cleaning and fuck online.
Well, I bought a (nother) computer. Microlocal are now in my share of four - but it's better not to ask questions.
take the train, the pendulum between the province and the low sprawling metropolis, I do not get angry even more reassuring to the almost constant delays of the Italian railways. Now I go to the station at any time, my train is always in delay.
Ah, no, I can tell one thing to have, but I digress fast.
I gave my first kiss in front of a sunset over the sea, on the park bench of a camp in Puglia, in a view so romantic to raise your blood sugar, the boy most of the camping area. Well, to be the highest for a quarter of an hour.
was the one with the guitar when he gathered the group around the "Song of the sun," my friends were all there to make chicken despite being equipped with all players engaged tanned and stylish.
Beat the holidays, our emotional story of love, consummated in ten days lemon hard strictly clothes, held up a little at the beginning of my high school, the end of September was also the end of our story.
The other morning arriving at platform three, surrounded by my furry coat, a little 'rumpled from sleep, and I see it. Say hello to me. We never really stopped to say hello, God forbid, but it's strange though, is that we do not speak for years now, fifteen years have passed from the bench at the campsite in Puglia, and apart from friends for an evening in which we found common to same table in a pub, our paths have not crossed over.
Yesterday morning the car park near the mine and expects to enter the station. Chat, no pleasantries, we were informed on what we do and where we live now. A little 'as if the last fifteen years were not even past.
Then we took trains in opposite directions.
After the new kitten, after the post-holiday in Ireland, after the move is not that it happened so much in my life.
say that my days are spent between train trips, sidewalks of Milan and a short time at home doing the laundry, cleaning and fuck online.
Well, I bought a (nother) computer. Microlocal are now in my share of four - but it's better not to ask questions.
take the train, the pendulum between the province and the low sprawling metropolis, I do not get angry even more reassuring to the almost constant delays of the Italian railways. Now I go to the station at any time, my train is always in delay.
Ah, no, I can tell one thing to have, but I digress fast.
I gave my first kiss in front of a sunset over the sea, on the park bench of a camp in Puglia, in a view so romantic to raise your blood sugar, the boy most of the camping area. Well, to be the highest for a quarter of an hour.
was the one with the guitar when he gathered the group around the "Song of the sun," my friends were all there to make chicken despite being equipped with all players engaged tanned and stylish.
Beat the holidays, our emotional story of love, consummated in ten days lemon hard strictly clothes, held up a little at the beginning of my high school, the end of September was also the end of our story.
The other morning arriving at platform three, surrounded by my furry coat, a little 'rumpled from sleep, and I see it. Say hello to me. We never really stopped to say hello, God forbid, but it's strange though, is that we do not speak for years now, fifteen years have passed from the bench at the campsite in Puglia, and apart from friends for an evening in which we found common to same table in a pub, our paths have not crossed over.
Yesterday morning the car park near the mine and expects to enter the station. Chat, no pleasantries, we were informed on what we do and where we live now. A little 'as if the last fifteen years were not even past.
Then we took trains in opposite directions.
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