.
foil
The foil is a good example of useless perfection, I am increasingly convinced.
Moreover you can also curl, no small advantage.
And then there are the tomatoes.
the tomatoes, which are perfect: red outside and red inside, open them and there are only flesh and seeds, no bones, hair, flesh, heart ventricles and bla bla bla. Nothing but the pulp and seeds.
do not know if you see: tomatoes have nothing, absolutely nothing, di complesso, solo polpa e semini. E sono felici, porca miseria, sono felici.
Tu sei felice?
Non stare così tanto a pensarci, no che non sei felice, te lo dico io. Fidati. Tu non sei un pomodoro.
Gli occhi, tanto per dirne una: i pomodori, gli occhi, non li hanno.
Un pomodoro non può guardarti negli occhi, una notte d'inverno gelida e rancorosa, e dirti: Lorena (pausa) tra noi è finita (pausa ancor più lunga) e sai perché?
Perché un pomodoro non ha occhi!
Niente occhi per i pomodori. Ah!
E le orecchie, poi?
Le orecchie, i pomodori non sanno neanche cosa sono. Ah!
Al pomodoro non puoi regalare un phone, as he would listen to the ringtone without ears or type a message if no fingers?
Not to mention the words, fucking words.
Words are noise for tomatoes.
know? Noise!
Have you ever heard a tomato to say "I love you"? No
that you have not heard, damn it.
Have you ever heard a tomato apologize because "I love you more than you think"? No
that you have not heard.
Have you ever heard a tomato tell a lie?
No!
Tomatoes do not tell lies! Tomatoes never lie, because in silence is not lying.
Yes, now you have the understand: I adore tomatoes,
Tomatoes may not be (nor aspire to) be more than what they are.
Tomatoes are tomatoes and enough.
Their perfection is complete.
complete idiot and, as it should be all perfection.
We do not. To us the idiocy it sucks, think a bit 'that we're smart.
We have hands, arms, ears, teeth, moles, saliva, words ...
We are full of words, we are full of words, we are swollen with words, we are bursting with words: "I love you," I hate you "," I love you "," I want you "," I do not want to hurt you, " "You're my whole life," "always" "forever" "muoio per te", "non ti dimenticherò mai"...
Noi siamo sommersi da parole, possiamo nominare ogni cosa, possiamo descrivere ogni cosa, possiamo fare ogni cosa, eppure siamo incompleti. Brutti, ciechi, storpi e sgangherati.
Non abbiamo la perfezione dei pomodori, noi; non siamo rossi fuori e rossi dentro, noi.
Siamo altro, noi.
Noi. Siamo. Altro.
Noi non viviamo la felicità che raramente e spesso neanche ce ne accorgiamo.
Siamo lì che ci arrabattiamo per salvare la pelliccia, giorno dopo giorno, tentando di non provare troppo dolore, utilizzando ogni mezzo, anche quelli più infidi, pur di sopravvivere anche solo un altro istante, e poi, improvvisamente, when we least expect it, so here is that happiness is BUM! And
drain. Happiness draining, trust me.
and drain. And drain. Dripped incessantly.
dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped , dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped , dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, and then
ends.
[looking at the phone]
He no longer calls, fuck.
No, no longer call.
And I'm here, alone and cold, talking to a mirror in tears, believing that it is an unknown.
I try to remember his words, his body, the sounds that he did when he fucked her, what was his writing, what I said, that sent me text messages but I can not.
I forgot everything.
The brain is always a lot of cruel ways to put a spoke in the wheels. I'll tell you.
The brain is really a great son of a bitch, christ.
"It 's over there that" think so, I was thinking, it is true, I will not be fooled by you and your goddamn shit, and you know why? because I'm not finished, I still have a lot of cartridges I can not be denied, I will not be fooled by you or on your shit, shit out of your damned, coz you were thinking, oh yes if you were thinking: "what is over there ".
I am not "that woman."
And as you see here are always, brilliant with prickly dignity, and I stay here, I'm always here and stay here, all right if I stay here.
"It 's over here that" tze.
shit. Damn shit.
I'm here, I will.
Stay here, I will.
You are finished, I'm not finished.
I never finish.
You and your smelly smile.
You and your fucking shit.
Got it? UNDERSTAND?
damned liar.
'm not finished I'm not over I'm not over I'm not over I'm not finished fucking can not be over not over not over.
I'm not finished.
Youth is a matter of concentration, such as cunnilingus.
You are distracted for a moment and not only have thirty but you also have joints that begin to hurt when the weather changes.
As the old saying? The time fixes things?
Time is a great son of a bitch, but. Complicates life unnecessarily, it hits everyone, without exception, old, women and children, some of them save for a bit 'on the other rages, but, Exaggerated or not, unfortunately against him there is no hope at the end always wins .
[looking at the phone]
And he does not call, damn it.
Behind every woman is always a hidden Penelope, even when filled with mines and barbed wire path that leads to your heart. All
still waiting someone or something, every day weaving their web of daily tasks, and then dispose of them at night, when nobody hugs or comforting.
Some expect his father, waiting for the other mothers, others a brother or sister that never arrive, and still others his true love, what we have lost many years ago and trying to find in each report. The most unfortunate
expect love, life, and it never comes.
And find yourself hard and withered, his fingers wrapped around your rosary with little alternative, but always in the seashore.
Maybe there are women happy.
And then there are the tomatoes.
the tomatoes, which are perfect: red outside and red inside, open them and there are only flesh and seeds, no bones, hair, flesh, heart ventricles and bla bla bla. Nothing but the pulp and seeds.
do not know if you see: tomatoes have nothing, absolutely nothing, di complesso, solo polpa e semini. E sono felici, porca miseria, sono felici.
Tu sei felice?
Non stare così tanto a pensarci, no che non sei felice, te lo dico io. Fidati. Tu non sei un pomodoro.
Gli occhi, tanto per dirne una: i pomodori, gli occhi, non li hanno.
Un pomodoro non può guardarti negli occhi, una notte d'inverno gelida e rancorosa, e dirti: Lorena (pausa) tra noi è finita (pausa ancor più lunga) e sai perché?
Perché un pomodoro non ha occhi!
Niente occhi per i pomodori. Ah!
E le orecchie, poi?
Le orecchie, i pomodori non sanno neanche cosa sono. Ah!
Al pomodoro non puoi regalare un phone, as he would listen to the ringtone without ears or type a message if no fingers?
Not to mention the words, fucking words.
Words are noise for tomatoes.
know? Noise!
Have you ever heard a tomato to say "I love you"? No
that you have not heard, damn it.
Have you ever heard a tomato apologize because "I love you more than you think"? No
that you have not heard.
Have you ever heard a tomato tell a lie?
No!
Tomatoes do not tell lies! Tomatoes never lie, because in silence is not lying.
Yes, now you have the understand: I adore tomatoes,
Tomatoes may not be (nor aspire to) be more than what they are.
Tomatoes are tomatoes and enough.
Their perfection is complete.
complete idiot and, as it should be all perfection.
We do not. To us the idiocy it sucks, think a bit 'that we're smart.
We have hands, arms, ears, teeth, moles, saliva, words ...
We are full of words, we are full of words, we are swollen with words, we are bursting with words: "I love you," I hate you "," I love you "," I want you "," I do not want to hurt you, " "You're my whole life," "always" "forever" "muoio per te", "non ti dimenticherò mai"...
Noi siamo sommersi da parole, possiamo nominare ogni cosa, possiamo descrivere ogni cosa, possiamo fare ogni cosa, eppure siamo incompleti. Brutti, ciechi, storpi e sgangherati.
Non abbiamo la perfezione dei pomodori, noi; non siamo rossi fuori e rossi dentro, noi.
Siamo altro, noi.
Noi. Siamo. Altro.
Noi non viviamo la felicità che raramente e spesso neanche ce ne accorgiamo.
Siamo lì che ci arrabattiamo per salvare la pelliccia, giorno dopo giorno, tentando di non provare troppo dolore, utilizzando ogni mezzo, anche quelli più infidi, pur di sopravvivere anche solo un altro istante, e poi, improvvisamente, when we least expect it, so here is that happiness is BUM! And
drain. Happiness draining, trust me.
and drain. And drain. Dripped incessantly.
dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped , dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped , dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, sgronda, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, dripped, and then
ends.
[looking at the phone]
He no longer calls, fuck.
No, no longer call.
And I'm here, alone and cold, talking to a mirror in tears, believing that it is an unknown.
I try to remember his words, his body, the sounds that he did when he fucked her, what was his writing, what I said, that sent me text messages but I can not.
I forgot everything.
The brain is always a lot of cruel ways to put a spoke in the wheels. I'll tell you.
The brain is really a great son of a bitch, christ.
"It 's over there that" think so, I was thinking, it is true, I will not be fooled by you and your goddamn shit, and you know why? because I'm not finished, I still have a lot of cartridges I can not be denied, I will not be fooled by you or on your shit, shit out of your damned, coz you were thinking, oh yes if you were thinking: "what is over there ".
I am not "that woman."
And as you see here are always, brilliant with prickly dignity, and I stay here, I'm always here and stay here, all right if I stay here.
"It 's over here that" tze.
shit. Damn shit.
I'm here, I will.
Stay here, I will.
You are finished, I'm not finished.
I never finish.
You and your smelly smile.
You and your fucking shit.
Got it? UNDERSTAND?
damned liar.
'm not finished I'm not over I'm not over I'm not over I'm not finished fucking can not be over not over not over.
I'm not finished.
Youth is a matter of concentration, such as cunnilingus.
You are distracted for a moment and not only have thirty but you also have joints that begin to hurt when the weather changes.
As the old saying? The time fixes things?
Time is a great son of a bitch, but. Complicates life unnecessarily, it hits everyone, without exception, old, women and children, some of them save for a bit 'on the other rages, but, Exaggerated or not, unfortunately against him there is no hope at the end always wins .
[looking at the phone]
And he does not call, damn it.
Behind every woman is always a hidden Penelope, even when filled with mines and barbed wire path that leads to your heart. All
still waiting someone or something, every day weaving their web of daily tasks, and then dispose of them at night, when nobody hugs or comforting.
Some expect his father, waiting for the other mothers, others a brother or sister that never arrive, and still others his true love, what we have lost many years ago and trying to find in each report. The most unfortunate
expect love, life, and it never comes.
And find yourself hard and withered, his fingers wrapped around your rosary with little alternative, but always in the seashore.
Maybe there are women happy.
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