Everything ok? How much is that we do not see? Mirror t'evito sharp but in the end I face. Do shoulders to a spartan room. The baggage is unmade. The late hour.
Rome, who is thirty years m'affolli memories. It is hard to make room for other places in the ruins and Rome in its becoming ruined. The question is whether that permeates these memories, these walls and I whether or not in connection with the land around.
says, "but you are always happy? How are you doing? "And I said" I pretend to be happy "and her" I understand, do as I do then. ". I say "It 's not a defense to say and my cocks is not working.".
The film festival, the festival Noantri, the fireworks in San Paolo, Piazza Navona Christmas lights on every trade made rocky ruins. Going up at night from Piazza Venezia, the Altare della Patria two buildings and divided silent, white marble stairs, the military horses that stand in the sky. Then to Via dei Fori Imperiali, between columns, half walls, statues, some tourists fascinated. On the left, avoiding the coliseum away is Via Cavour, there is going through a limbo, a noticeable gradient, a long climb. Some clubs, and mansions, then hotels. Opens Piazza dei Cinquecento Termini Station. The non-place of the city. Noise of cars and people, I still like the screeching flocks of roosting trees dirty smog. Shadow on the ruins that crowded the streets. The smell of fast food, kebab, pizza. On the beggars and litter. The bottles of beer abandoned. In the shadow of drug dealing and petty theft, fraud, aggressive begging.
stores supplying the Chinese peddlers industrious. The SUV in two rows-nothing that traffic on the phone and look menacing. Prostitution, usury, a thousand business potential here. Taxi drivers and passengers crossing and hasten to Rome.
Roma in Rome meters meters b. Bus stops and information scattered zero. Some tram, train Quach. Not one real interconnection between media, the maps are limited to inform on the state of things with bright colors and patterns of trafficking and transport routes. Drowns in Rome late. I have often thought, now or never, but we must start somewhere. I tried to be convincing but every year that passes I see the increasing gap between me and Rome, between Rome and other cities.
Romano and machine. And bike motorone, scooter. Microcarrette suicide. Citizen poisoned metal stuck in the maelstrom, I still look at you. I saw St. Pietrini uprooted by the rain, asphalt and potholes. Dangerous rebounds, sudden dips, sleigh rides, broken lights, spin, back doors, airbags, front crash. Wheels still turning in the air, on the Tiber in Rome that sinks under its weight but by the illusion that it is not true. What makes you think of the eternal Rome. A specific meaning and not just a set of points in space and events.
But I do not think it matters. As it is not know whether it is or not eternal or understand why the streets are not safe. It is not or may not be. No.
important is to understand where it ends and begins terms opium, which becomes Palatine Hill and Aventine at Ostia, and then marconi Testaccio and EUR, tenth, Eur, Spinaceto. And this is only one possible trajectory of boundaries that escape me, and fled out of Rome. I do not know precisely where they are, I might be on to Naples or the pontine Salaria toward Rieti, or on aurelia following her over to Genoa, to the ocean. Knowing where a neighborhood begins and ends a 'is more fundamental. Do not underestimate the roads never traveled to suddenly not be in the wrong place. Should focus on well where you live. The where some property from which to start. It is not easy, you get lost land through the papers and deliberations of the town but especially among the voices of the neighborhood. Time switch, you could see little old dispute between a handful of streets contention for years. I myself could not say exactly where I was born. To tell a local, Tiburtina, please also specify how high, so maybe that is verderocca casal or burned, it depends. District Tiburtino is another thing. He says that many pretend, say Tivoli to say which is worse casal burned. The answer is that those countries do well out of the ring road when they go abroad. I come from Rome, they say. We are proud to metropolitan. She looks at me an accomplice. Not us, winking. In truth I would be much more exotic in the birth, but I tell him so. I digress from the point. I do it often.
I read that the more we go forward and the perception of passing time is faster. That is a lot more things happen, overlap in and out and forgets proportionately. A mad rush towards an unavoidable impact. They say it is technology, which is the fault of the Mayan calendar, even linking the exchange of terrestrial magnetism at the pineal gland. I'm okay. How to tell a hunchback "Over the coming years, the vision of the world will always be lower for the human being", can not but be convinced, too.
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