Sto scrivendo con gli occhi commossi. Sono felice, davvero. C'è stata una girandola di pensieri oggi nella mia testa ed ecco che ritornano tutti a comporre un cerchio, un tondo perfetto, di cui è impossibile definirne la grandezza. So solo che le sue linee si stanno facendo ben marcate, stanno to form a personality. That circle is me and slowly I'm defining. Maybe I covered just a small part of the circle, but I'm proud. Sure, I could not have done alone. I have a constant need for approval of those who is close to my heart and would not put even a well-defined without any of these people give me your most honest smile. I do not ask more. And do not do more. That 's what a gift when you make eye contact with someone, a woman walking along the avenue As soon as a bit of sun comes out from the clouds that have already downloaded and expect rain, or that of an elderly woman that she takes advantage of little sun and is accompanied by the granddaughter who gives her a soaked leaf, or the guy who trains for the football team or the bench on which there is an inscription "+ DOGS, - TV, even while I'm alive, I run or walk, listening to music and I attention to the words which lead me to thoughts, to the faces of people important to me. A song has the rhythm for me to imagine a choreographer, is just another sad, hopeful and yet another is fighting, and another nice one from just pissed. And with the songs up or slow down the pace. The music and words. The words are moving. The movement is metamorphosis. Metamorphosis is life. Vivo. I smile. Thank you.
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