Genre: fiction
Even this story is quite old, probably dates back to 2003. E 'was knocked down by a jet in the afternoon when I had no wish to study, so I decided to spend time in other ways.
course has undergone some revisions and changes in the following days.
If you prefer you can download the text version pdf
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Good reading.
photo by A. Bardi
What a night.
The holidays are over. Always end.
On the other hand could not be otherwise, in this case there was talk of vacation, is defined in other ways: unemployment, a period of reflection, sabbatical, and so on. I would not call myself a worker, but not a single unemployed person, I would say a maintained, that is what I do, or rather, I should do, is to study which I can also pretty good when you put me there.
Now, the question is that in this last period I'm putting us all, no problem, you say, well sure, no problem as long as there are holidays that you parry your ass, but the holidays are now finite. What do we do?
Well, this is not a problem, you say, the desire comes and goes. Of course it is so with everything: the whiskey, drugs, women and other things that make sense at the time not come to mind.
But you know what?
Well, nothing. You're exactly right, I tell you this, but let me pull up the heavy tent and put on stage the evolution of the nice evening.
Model: just me.
Hours 16.
Our hero is pulled over by a cheerful chirping coming from inside the building.
I think it is the only condo buildings in this soup,, smog, fish and mobsters who can boast of possessing such a soundtrack to accompany the spring. This is not exactly the spring, but this time without a name (I think) in which spring evolves into summer. In terms of smells, we're talking about a funny smell of sewer that is hard to establish itself among the city's streets, the mission will be successfully completed during the summer.
So I pull up in trouble: his eyes at half mast, they also there to witness the great desire to do.
Several minutes passed, until, dragging me, I reach the kitchen ancora più stonato di prima. Ovviamente solo un quarto del caffè ,direi, spalato, raggiunge l’ambita destinazione,mentre i restanti tre quarti si spargono irrimediabilmente un po’ dappertutto.
La soluzione caffè è abbandonata,o meglio, messa da parte, e si opta per un po’ di acqua sulla faccia; di quella fredda ovviamente.
Ok, siamo a cavallo, si stanno aprendo.Un occhiatina allo specchio… aaaarrgghhh , mostruoso.
Intanto le rotelline iniziano a girare “allora, che giorno è? Vediamo: baldoria, vino zampina, tante donne, ehm... no no le donne erano nel sogno. Ok, ieri era pasquetta so today ... I have no idea. Well, I'll be the day after Easter Monday. "
.
Here. Now begins the depression is the end, we must study: two, three, four, five exams ... hell, is not taken into account more. What a bore.
You know the paranoia? Do not get your breaking, at least when your break six slightly spurred to do something, but if there are not any other, like cabbage ... zero.
you talk about having fun out of the office: it goes out every night, you do what you think ... talk. Wash your clothes, ironed, and then tell me.
You know what I think is the worst thing of being out of office?
Collision to study because you have nothing better to do.
But that sadness, though, think about it, to me is a bit 'that does not happen.
The key is to think of something funny, but at the same time give you energy, charge, and the correct injection secchionaggine you need.
think., Think, think:
"Let's see: you do not see your weeks, you do not know if your brother is still alive ... and you left with your girlfriend. Porc ... But it's the end. "
Here is the last thought that would take that sort of ring road that you have placed in the brain.
Rest assured that now not studied anything. You have won a single ticket for the grounds of depression.
17:30.
So in the end have triumphed over your coffee and you've found a way to spend an hour and a half in a totally useless.
What do we do?
only look at the book in the other room you are up for spontaneous vomiting.
a shower. This could be the solution.
The feeling of relaxation that can give a shower is, sometimes, something indescribable: the muscles relax, the mind wakes up and then riassopirsi moment by moment. My hair falls on the shoulders with curls almost unnatural.
I let myself go heavy on the couch, barely audible volume to start the Doors and the lights from the dark tones of the multicolored crib set yet nell'inutile fireplace adorns the living room, alternately light up almost to the rhythm of music. The darkness is total, only those lights that turn on and off lazily creating the water drops still resting on the cornea hallucinatory rainbow effect.
Relaxation is total, if it were not for the hallucinations I would say they have found something that would replace an acid. Want to study: nothing.
Now you're almost certain that the day is lost, but still trust in your sense of duty.
passed this way a few hours (or at least that's what I believe) as long as the survival instinct takes over, convincing myself that my for survival would be better to get up there and opt for more productive pursuits.
18:30.
now I can claim to be awake, because if not I should start to worry.
After I slipped a suit, cross my eyes in a mirror, is determined. Now he is studying. The book opens, and there it is: love formulas, sums, derivatives, integrals, and so on and so forth.
The thing is progressing smoothly for about half a page, then a light: Chagall.
Heck, Chagall I've never understood, or rather, to bold colors we get everyone, but those images? Yet I do not think a man so deluded. No, no, we must come head.
You know the "The Saint cabbie? Practically drew a slide and placed us on a head.
Why?
Rummaging among the thousands of papers around me, there emerges a big book on Chagall, buried there from time immemorial with foreign unopened packs of cigarettes, cheap memories of distant lands.
begin to read, and here the drama is always so when you should do something but you want to do anything else does not combine in both directions. What
depression. What is the point of uselessness.
While flows, at least with their eyes, the lines of the mentioned volume, a slight buzz distracts me attention.
initially paid little attention to what, until at least, not the buzz turns into screaming, yelling.
It 's the old fool.
Yes, in the magnificent interior of my beautiful condo overlooks the home of this wonderful lady. This
old, whose name is unknown, is presented as a kind of witch, yeah, just you, you wrap a sort of black cape, probably pretty dirty, if you count the fact that it was not ever wear something on the other, her hair, a pale gray, curling on shoulders as if it enjoyed a life of its own, giving the impression of having a consistency similar to that of hay. The haunted eyes of which he can define the color (because of the distance from which the subject uses to show) are framed by a huge pair of glasses blacks square celluloid, not least his face is completely covered with wrinkles and Whether scary.
Cyrano strange voices in the apartment buildings on the history of this strange character, the most popular version, and that many attest to how true it is, in my opinion the most unlikely, though, we all know that reality, not infrequently, use woven fabrics that are beyond the wildest imagination.
is said, as in most traditional fairy tales, that this young lady was handsome, and even that enjoyed an enviable mental health, of good and rich family attended the best schools in the city. In short, his troubles began when he married a young man, initially, he seemed to pay special attention and was really in love, if not as soon as we realized that his only goal was the wealth of the girl.
After spending every penny in all women, and entertainment of all kinds, the boy disappeared without a trace, leaving the poor girl (named and in fact) only to live in hardship in the apartment.
All this not a little disturbed the mind of the woman, giving birth to the now famous "old fool of Interior."
So now you get used to the usual nonsense of the old at any time of day and night about snakes that climb up your pants, people who devours his own children and Negroes should break a moment in our homes and kill us all, but this time it seems more restless than usual.
They arrive in the meantime 20:30, the old yells back more than half an hour and the inhabitants of condominium exhausted from their work days are about to enjoy a well earned rest in the company of the usual film in prime time and the usual inevitable Peroni family.
For me, this damn rest I do not deserve, what have I done to deserve it?
Nothing.
think that I do not smoke either. But who does not smoke nowadays? That beard eh?
to think of it is a bit 'not anything done, but not limited to the university, but in life, hell, high grades, sometimes sporting success, someone, but for the rest?
Nothing.
You know I do now? I put in writing what has become of my day and my life, so it will be proof that I've done absolutely nothing.
Meanwhile, some ladies were worried about facing the insistent cries of his grandmother.
ear I come to talk about a persistent smell of gas spread throughout the building, perhaps a loss.
The anxiety is just beginning to spread: who calls the gas company, who called firefighters, who broke out with apocalyptic phrases like "all die", "all jumped in the air" or something.
Actually now that I do if there is a nauseating smell of gas throughout the house ... and is getting worse.
23:30.
I jotted down these lines and I think they are a big crap on the other hand I thought it was the only thing I could do since I do not deserve the movie in prime time, and not even all that that goes around.
do not deserve anything.
Gas is everywhere, and the air is almost unbearable. What
depression. A package
di sigarette con scritte russe emerge tra le scartoffie.
Me ne accendo una.
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