Category: So Nuda
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Auff, who is tired, momentarily tired, that I am late here from her but you know, it is not unaware but it is the accumulation of doing and so much I do that I did the list as I had already told you, trying to make order, but then the list has inflated, and for something I have depenned...
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Good morning good morning, here I am, look I allowed to bring you a small cake, here, I wrapped it in orange and green veline paper, and I bought a brown rhyme spake, and I support it here, you know, I made a little autumn packaging, I thought that you might like, I made you the...
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Here I am sorry in a hurry to greet her and I do not even sit, that look a bit at her, I have the trapeze wool coat that makes so much fanè instead of vintage, the cap with the visor that makes so much worker instead of painter of Montparnasse, the fleece gloves of Son that I am very much...
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Cow said... I appreciate your writing and avoid humorous commentary, certainly questionable about such an unconscious fact. I share the embarrassment, the incollocability of feelings in the face of these medieval eliminations scientifically guided by the inexorable export of Western democracy. The product that succeeds best, obviously. Dictators once (also long ago, really) honored...
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when twitter showed the death of Gaddafi, my lady, that doubts are healthy bearers of novelty. They say they creep into a man's brain and ask first simple questions and then away more complex, digging tunnels and deep grooves where before there was order and tranquility. They say doubts are a sign...
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Everything is fine (maybe)(maybe)(maybe) It would be Saint Ignatius of Antioch today. Patron of writers and authors. Called to stop smoking (concept obsolete this, which is not that you stop smoking, but otherwise, you resume breathing, to feel inside and out, savor life, not to be afraid of pain, since who smokes other not...
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So I get out of the train and immerse myself in the Milan station, which has always fascinated me: a huge mouth as big as that of the whale who ate Pinocchio, and I that I enter with my red trolley and its great irreverent Santana writing, not exactly adapted to the elegance suggested by fashion magazines, but that we...
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It was January and suddenly it is end of September. It was Florence, then a fleeting visit to Milan on a cold Sunday of February, now it is really late September, still touches Milan. Neozone, for precision. My lady, I wasn't sure I wanted to go. I was sitting at the square table, the Alpha Male at my...
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an impossible female career I entered him. I ran him walking. I had the packages in my hand and Dior's red lipstick on my lips; he had a big belly, the thoughtful air, the eyes caught. - Toh! I told him, I hesitated what was enough to decide if to stop...
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a love story (not mine) 2500 are the jokes requested by Corriere della Sera to participate in the Christmas story contest. I did it as an exercise, because it is not easy to reduce everything to 2500 words. This is the result. I'm at the park where I walk fast with my dancers sinking into the frozen leaves...
