The phone rings.
Too far.
I wake up in sweat pants and white.
I try to rearrange ideas. The times are not one in which the office can call, the time is not one in which the urgent needs can occur, or perhaps yes, but I might as well ignore them.
It 's that moment when the unbelievable takes shape: he's my lawyer looking for me.
The second call, if my mind remembers well in eight years.
The first, a few years ago, was to "remember" that I had to appear in court.
" Where are you? I'm coming "
'I'm inside "
" you like some coffee? Do not talk with anyone, and if you see the other (the party's lawyer) ignore "
" already had a coffee. I'll wait. "
" Yes, but do not be frightened. "
By whom? From what?
What else would scare me? The court from behind the door?
All events were quite enlightening.
If you expect something, my dear bipeds on earth, be ready at the event otherwise.
No, not pessimism (or optimism) is experience.
In fact, the encounter with the other lawyer was there and tried to appeal to my morale.
had miscalculated and was a victim of its own game.
Experience, in this case, no.
I get up, take the shirt of the closet, looking jeans, I put on a sweater.
All with the enthusiasm typical of a person sentenced to death.
say that my mood is not shining particularly in these days, but let you in mind, as represented in the outside world, is useless.
I feel as if something inside me had been rebuilt in an environment that does not fit.
a continuous confrontation and my mind fencing. I lose myself in other mazes.
I know what all this for me. There's already been.
Dream dissolution and forces me to be present. A contradiction in a sense, but my rationality stakes stronger.
" Do you have a good control"
That 's what all this has always made me shrink. I know. One of these days imbraccerò the printer and the crash in someone's head. A coincidence, nothing personal.
Therefore, kidding, last night I said to S., harking back to old speeches, in that case I would have killed me, not a flying bullet fired in a country in civil war semi unrecognized but effective.
a Monday morning. On Monday
has a symbolic meaning, but you will understand the time and I do not want to hurry.
I was then told that I should also say a blow to my temple.
In that case I should leave a note to the lawyer ... Do not call me.
The rest is manifested in the world of work.
The show went well, considering that the author and do not like that I had never set foot in the exhibition space. I wonder what kind of animal I am. I do not know how other defines and then justify my rabbit of the hat, remembering that ultimately the spirit of Johan dick (twisted little creature in my mind) has to come from somewhere.
So my group at the end would not go away. The service is over, go in peace.
Positively speaking I have received some attention, in other cases still will be wondering what I said and why they lost time. In both cases I bisser soon.
several nights I dream Damien. Damien is half boy who could describe a thousand words and none. It is not my thing. Damien is a creature of the late nineteenth century the result of a modern mind, the mind of S., but it's also the kind of creation that lives its own life beyond all expectations.
Dream Damien, rain and an umbrella.
Dream Damien and I find it hard to strip, which is a contradiction if we assume that this invented soul could also strip the panty Christ by Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel.
other side instead I got to meet a dream starring Pearce and another man, forced to do a threesome with those if the sleeping blissfully.
(Notice of service, from tomorrow I'll call you twice.)
"Jonathan Damien Cavendish.
Jonathan Cavendish, officially.
Damien Cavendish, unofficially.
Damien, the leader of the popular leaders.
Damien, blue eyes so limpid to remember for those who had seen them, the deep seas of the Caribbean.
's face drawn by a forgotten artist of the Italian Renaissance, a nose too English to have doubts about paternity. Long, thin hands, as was all his slender figure.
So much to remember the "shadows", sculptures whose bodies are stretched as they are the shadows at sunset.
Damien was a shadow.
Damien was the shadow of Jonathan Cavendish, and everything that his father had desired for him.
Damien Jonathan Cavendish, Bon Ton which was known and appreciated throughout London.
His style and his acumen gave rise to legends, its constant association with a Dutch captain and owner had made him a mythological character.
Damien Cavendish wore this cloak of myth with the same nonchalance with which the Queen of England wore his crown. "
Homage to you Damien, for some reason my subconscious represents you.
Oh, and (if true seem to write it and I repeat) Pearce is another imaginary fruit of paradise.
does not belong to my family tree, but it is quite shameful to pretend to be the apple of the matter.
Do not believe Apple are never set.
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