is the crescent moon.
is there looking at me or maybe I'm driving.
hung in the sky. and below, a star, I think Venus, the crescent moon hanging.
I fear we are all hung together. such as sickle and his little Venus hung in the darkness of the twilight sky, on this night without end.
drive in automatic, highway, back in Milan, in the abyss.
anyone who can guess the weight for me this return.
you know, are back in towards the claim, I'm in therapy myself, are in looking for my consent. not where I can not find elsewhere, as many teach me.
are right, and duty, in the fall in Milan last night. I know.
is "only" a short holiday break, but from this point of view, that the pursuit of desire, effort and allocation of sense, I was always on vacation. and this interruption, a competition during my vacation, has a symbolic value. there's something you do not have it?
but I feel bad, I feel that I was torn, that if a fragment size for a week I go back there is an impoverished suffocation. as always, are divided, as always if I have to support a question I must give a response.
leave the mountain and within the highway, I'm already tired after only half an hour. tail. near Bergamo reports say smoke attention on track. a pickup truck on fire, a fire impressive, near the step and I feel a wave of heat inside the passenger compartment of the car, even taking that far and so fast. are disturbed by that fire, in part, into thin air. I am, I who are at war, that I return to Milan, in my duty, I console myself that my failures, I come near me who does not love me, am I going to fire.
I know, nobody understands what it cost last night's nonsense.
wrong exit and it takes me half an hour more to come home. it's almost 21, I hate driving in the dark.
seeking distractions, I write, the snow creature, then study. then sleep, bad, and I wake up early.
seeking distractions, I have breakfast and try the merino poems, and study more.
but at some point the distractions do not work anymore. distractions do not stop time, not longer, just the trick. I go, and I'm excited, excited. each test for me is a fire, as the truck last night.
flames of heart-pounding excitement uncertainties and doubts. I'll never have the peace of the righteous.
how was the exam? I do not know, of course a real test, not an informative interview.
before I get to leave. is a moment no?
also thought that last night leading off the road, outside, or against a guard rail, go up in smoke, is a moment.
really a moment.
I talked excitedly, I was only towards the end. I was at the end, to the best of me, and interim proposals.
but only after. I
later. always arrive later, in everything, always after the fire before it burns out before I burned.
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