Questa mattina ho certe occhiaie che neanche la fossa oceanica.
Sembrano buchi neri dentro cui tutto finisce e infatti non trovo più niente e mi innervosisco e poi il gatto si è fatto le unghie sul divano nuovo e lui però, bastardo, è sempre qui e per farlo sparire non bastano i buchi neri. Dovresti lanciargli una crocchetta dal balcone forse, anche se poi non è nemmeno sicuro che ci vada appresso, è probabile, ma non è sicuro.
Questa mattina mi rode il culo perché questa città è un quartiere nel quartiere e quando soffro d'asma e I'm not breathing well particularly asphyxiated village on Saturday and this dimension of the village makes the situation worse and makes me cyanotic and hate those faces, the faces always greet you and you stop and chat while I roll around in anonymity, only to be hidden among other, invisible, I would disappear continuing to be among the world who does not care for me while I do not care about him.
While I do not care about him.
And then this morning it is raining and there is a hood that I would beat me on the brain and the eye sockets that expand and expand eating hectares of epidermal and I are coming down to the chin because cheeks if they are already eaten and so the nose and lips and even if no one can hear me scream because I have not only voice but it was huge and swollen gray to tell me things that are not true to say that Last night I made the dawn and I with debauchery for anything and everything in between, hypocritical, because I've actually seen only a mediocre film and made small talk in the streets in San Lorenzo.
And this morning in heavy cosmic crushes me the time and I attappa nostrils and I clog the pores and makes me spray ventolin revived for the lungs as you do with an old car undone by mileage years and years and years of old glories.
And this morning I think about the cosmic heaviness of cynicism and the fact that, yes, cynicism helps. And I think the and the fact that rationality is the rationality helps. And the irony and the fact that, yes, even the irony helps, dehumanizes, lightens , plays down . plays down the ugliness of life and lightens the load of sensitivity to things that seem horrible because dehumanizes and makes you play with everything and it seems to work, does not always work.
sometimes fails and then I start to laugh, a hysterical laugh which is always better to laugh than cry. You can not cry at work, not professional, you laugh, make you laugh a jovial person, even if there is a fucking laugh, even if that laughter is a lump of vomit you back as bitten by a pit of the stomach and stops the throat, where it becomes rice, and laugh, laugh, long live Aristotle, who always praised Aristotle rice because it is true that it has the power to make you invulnerable of make you a shell and wrap the world with a sublime mantle of moral superiority that I am a good and right. I'm never wrong, I just accidentally. I am arrogant presumption is my weapon, I'm afraid I will not do shit but because are presumptuous and arrogant and good and right and ideologically pure and free, and all that touch must turn gold. Why keep laughing, even if I'm dealing with a skin of a human being all the time and I invent the world because is that being a bit ' not peel and will jump the fatal because is a bit ' less skin, because I laugh and tears I leave the Madonnas.
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