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Alberi, scoiattoli e maniaci depressivi
Vita e opere di Alberto K., pubblicitario.
Vita e opere di Alberto K., pubblicitario.
Temo che chiudere la camicia fino all'ultimo bottone non faccia di me un creativo pubblicitario, è triste eppure è così, bisognerà che mi abitui.
Questo mondo è ingiusto, profondamente ingiusto.
Come me, del resto.
Cosa succede a un pubblicitario che non riesce più a creare nulla? Niente: viene sostituito da un altro pubblicitario che ancora non è stato divorato dalla cocaina e dal sesso a tre con bambine tailandesi.
La creatività si compra and sold just like everything else.
The trick is to fool the people who is irreplaceable, at a time prior to fire her. It always works and I'll save face on settlements.
As I drove away to kick your ass from my desk, using any touch as she could, my boss did not find better than obsessively repeating phrases that I had suggested him when he drove away in the creative I have taken the place:
"A heart that has never been broken is not a heart, it's just a muscle.
A man who has never been fired is not a man, is only one permanent employee.
This is the first day of your new life. You're a free man now. Enjoy your money. "
quite right him:" I am a free man now. "
I am a free man.
am. A man. Free.
" Freedom is just a bad moment, but passes hurry, son. "Me, I repeat every morning when I look in the mirror in a crisis of identity, then shot two strips from the nose, even before making coffee.
I cemented the nostrils. I do not eat even more. Bevo, aim and shot coke. I prefer not to see anything, rather than be wrong.
If only I try to think, my head explodes.
Until last week I was a young man who liked to dress as a publicity bum and bake successful campaigns (WHY 'I am worth - GOD DOES NOT EXIST, BUT IT LACOSTE'! - ALL VA translation: The pitcher who buy from AUSCIAN), but now I am a young homeless man who loves dressing up as a successful advertising, unable to bake anything.
When you lose your love when you feel like become butt ugly and sick is bad when you become ugly and horny, and when you should become very badly in love with another person.
When you lose your job, instead, simply become meaningless.
Suddenly you realize that everyone else around you are doing something, except you, and it is terrible, believe me, terrible. You are the bee died of a heart attack a few steps away from the hive. The ant lame, unable to scrape away the crumbs from a loaf of bread to bring to the nest. Six gear rusty you replace with the new gear, because it is unsalvageable .
And the money is useless, just useless.
The money does not bring happiness. Only serves to make up coca and escort.
I have two million euro on my bank account and not a shred of reason to go forward.
'm an army in full retreat from Russia. Muoio
frozen while trying to cross the border. Around me there are only snow, silence and Soviet soldiers who want to beat my ass.
Why are we so obsessed with beauty?
Because the world is ugly, unbearable ugly.
And the reality is unbearable.
Although it will seem incredible - I know, I am sure you know how my pockets, have faith - it SODDING galaxies of us and our penis.
GDP, the crisis in the Middle East situation, the cash-integration, fiscal federalism, unemployment and all the rest, are important only for us, for all other living beings and not simply a bitch.
We are the masters of the universe, only that the universe does not know.
We build the future we decompose gracefully, for fear of making too much noise. Someone would notice us.
I call Tamara. I have a desperate need of his lips and his eyes closed.
I do not respond, it will be with some customers.
Not bad, I say, call someone else, but do not press any buttons.
burst into tears.
I crawl for hours in a supermarket. I smile at surveillance cameras. I'm completely stoned. Keep flying
happy / higher than the sun and higher still / while the world slowly disappears / blue in my eyes.
I try to call Tamara. This time, she says, has a sleepy voice. Do not utter a single word, I look at my reflection on the counter fridge. It seems like a brand.
A brand among others.
This world is in my image and likeness, and there is no reason to where this has happened.
I invented thousands of words, giving me his arm.
phrases can make a home and push it to buy a myriad of crap which has no need. I think I'm a genius, just do not know in that field.
My words are men. Unfortunately.
Tamara continues to repeat for a while ': "Alberto? Alberto? Why do not you talk?", On the other end of the phone, then hangs up.
I limit myself to breathe.
I am a free man now.
Freedom is not a golden turn acting within the lie, the least showy.
freedom he enjoys making fun of us.
Freedom is a lie that looks dangerously the truth.
God, as they burn my nostrils.
front of me a girl smiles.
I love her, but all she will never know. Dura
all less than a minute.
When I come back on the ground in front of a cashier that I just looked at me and expects me to type a code on a machine.
someone behind me cursing my slowness.
The girl, meanwhile, is gone.
not such a great love had to end so badly.
Outside it rains.
And it is sad to die without children.
Questo mondo è ingiusto, profondamente ingiusto.
Come me, del resto.
Cosa succede a un pubblicitario che non riesce più a creare nulla? Niente: viene sostituito da un altro pubblicitario che ancora non è stato divorato dalla cocaina e dal sesso a tre con bambine tailandesi.
La creatività si compra and sold just like everything else.
The trick is to fool the people who is irreplaceable, at a time prior to fire her. It always works and I'll save face on settlements.
As I drove away to kick your ass from my desk, using any touch as she could, my boss did not find better than obsessively repeating phrases that I had suggested him when he drove away in the creative I have taken the place:
"A heart that has never been broken is not a heart, it's just a muscle.
A man who has never been fired is not a man, is only one permanent employee.
This is the first day of your new life. You're a free man now. Enjoy your money. "
quite right him:" I am a free man now. "
I am a free man.
am. A man. Free.
" Freedom is just a bad moment, but passes hurry, son. "Me, I repeat every morning when I look in the mirror in a crisis of identity, then shot two strips from the nose, even before making coffee.
I cemented the nostrils. I do not eat even more. Bevo, aim and shot coke. I prefer not to see anything, rather than be wrong.
If only I try to think, my head explodes.
Until last week I was a young man who liked to dress as a publicity bum and bake successful campaigns (WHY 'I am worth - GOD DOES NOT EXIST, BUT IT LACOSTE'! - ALL VA translation: The pitcher who buy from AUSCIAN), but now I am a young homeless man who loves dressing up as a successful advertising, unable to bake anything.
When you lose your love when you feel like become butt ugly and sick is bad when you become ugly and horny, and when you should become very badly in love with another person.
When you lose your job, instead, simply become meaningless.
Suddenly you realize that everyone else around you are doing something, except you, and it is terrible, believe me, terrible. You are the bee died of a heart attack a few steps away from the hive. The ant lame, unable to scrape away the crumbs from a loaf of bread to bring to the nest. Six gear rusty you replace with the new gear, because it is unsalvageable .
And the money is useless, just useless.
The money does not bring happiness. Only serves to make up coca and escort.
I have two million euro on my bank account and not a shred of reason to go forward.
'm an army in full retreat from Russia. Muoio
frozen while trying to cross the border. Around me there are only snow, silence and Soviet soldiers who want to beat my ass.
Why are we so obsessed with beauty?
Because the world is ugly, unbearable ugly.
And the reality is unbearable.
Although it will seem incredible - I know, I am sure you know how my pockets, have faith - it SODDING galaxies of us and our penis.
GDP, the crisis in the Middle East situation, the cash-integration, fiscal federalism, unemployment and all the rest, are important only for us, for all other living beings and not simply a bitch.
We are the masters of the universe, only that the universe does not know.
We build the future we decompose gracefully, for fear of making too much noise. Someone would notice us.
I call Tamara. I have a desperate need of his lips and his eyes closed.
I do not respond, it will be with some customers.
Not bad, I say, call someone else, but do not press any buttons.
burst into tears.
I crawl for hours in a supermarket. I smile at surveillance cameras. I'm completely stoned. Keep flying
happy / higher than the sun and higher still / while the world slowly disappears / blue in my eyes.
I try to call Tamara. This time, she says, has a sleepy voice. Do not utter a single word, I look at my reflection on the counter fridge. It seems like a brand.
A brand among others.
This world is in my image and likeness, and there is no reason to where this has happened.
I invented thousands of words, giving me his arm.
phrases can make a home and push it to buy a myriad of crap which has no need. I think I'm a genius, just do not know in that field.
My words are men. Unfortunately.
Tamara continues to repeat for a while ': "Alberto? Alberto? Why do not you talk?", On the other end of the phone, then hangs up.
I limit myself to breathe.
I am a free man now.
Freedom is not a golden turn acting within the lie, the least showy.
freedom he enjoys making fun of us.
Freedom is a lie that looks dangerously the truth.
God, as they burn my nostrils.
front of me a girl smiles.
I love her, but all she will never know. Dura
all less than a minute.
When I come back on the ground in front of a cashier that I just looked at me and expects me to type a code on a machine.
someone behind me cursing my slowness.
The girl, meanwhile, is gone.
not such a great love had to end so badly.
Outside it rains.
And it is sad to die without children.
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