"Natura Morsa" Roy Hobbs 1669
"la variabile non è Dio, è il tempo"
Here. Goes almost always, what I have in mind, is far better than I can produce, but five or six barrels ass that made her eyes popping at a half dozen people, including my aunt orba of Roseto degli Abruzzi. Which, translates to only one swear word in common use: Mediocre. Now, in a world where even those who make the presenter has the audacity to call himself an artist bizarre all this should comfort me, but no. Then there is Andrea, who always told me " you're an illustrator, you can see from the instep, have faith, I do not, I am free ." He in fact, among the many genius who had pulled out, s' was invented with a clear line pennarellino water, passing more or less at the center of the nose and that makes the sign between light and shadow, and then the volume. One fucking segnetto supported them, the cosmos in a corner of China. I showed it one morning on a piece of graph paper while drinking coffee, in Bologna. In fact, Andrew had a very proportionate instep. The drama of this life is not so much not being able to do certain things, but doing it after someone else, even just a second later. The difference is all there, fill the huge gap that exists between genius and mediocrity is all in that second. When I killed Andrea I suffered a little, but ho anche pensato che forse ci avrei guadagnato qualcosa, l'attenzione. Sbagliavo, il ricordo rende l'uomo con la valigia un eterno, e quello che resta al bar della stazione uno stronzo qualunque che ha perso l'ultimo treno. Ecco, come dicevo, la variabile non è Dio è il tempo. Se ci fossero ancora i gettoni chiamerei dal telefono di questo bar della stazione Tuscolana, proprio dietro lo sbuffo della gaggia ottonata e ti direi: " mamma, quand'ero grande voglio fare il presentatore "
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