Hanging out with a guy like me, of Silver 
I decided to write something else, your comments are very many and not enough space to post, then remedy. I state that I am writing now but I'm not sure exactly when it will publish this thing, maybe tomorrow or maybe never, I do not know, maybe something will cut here and there, but for now I am going to freewheel.
Where to start? Topics covered in the comments have been several (fortunately not all for me, otherwise I end up really you that I know better). I must say that this blog has had sin'ora a good influence on a social level (certainly much more than the previous). An accident? I could not respond, because I have witnessed his birth (perhaps in reality the very first instant, the phone type if I remember correctly), nor do I have directly participated in his being, and for that I apologize to you, Melissa, and I'm sorry I will try to make us more attention (because now you've put into play, and I refer to the space that you have given me Blog ....), and I apologize to all you readers and writers, known and unknown, that much good You told me (also too much, indeed too many things ..... In fact you could silence some .... particularly embarrassing ....).
What causes this desire to speak, communicate, learn, at all levels, he has done and is a godsend to this site and gave way to me and to know and you know you? What, ultimately, the impulse that drives a person any of us to write and communicate in some way with someone who answers us and then maybe even get to attend? (Alexxx should say something about you too, I suppose you would have a lot, right?)
My answer is that maybe it was just too much.
Yes, well the fictitious circle of friends, acquaintances, classmates, relatives, there is not anyone. No one to talk about things sincere, or no one to reveal some serious things to us, or anyone with whom they can trust, but, more importantly, no one can really share what we have but something that seems missing but well sometimes it weighs. Need, in short, not to socialize to some interest, as often happens, but simply to open the valve that bring out our true being unpretentious, but only for the pleasure of presenting.
is the reason.
I believe that today the society has relegated us to a place ambiguous. To me, avoi and all people, all closed as sperm in vitro, each free to move in its narrow space, but nobody really free to come and go at will. Today people have a number, an entity somehow tangible and reliable material, but depersonalized. I believe that our way of being was shocked, and transplanted at the end buried in the bottom of a pile of everyday life, buried at that doing routine and constant rhythms of society impose on us.
burial mound from this we tried to go back to the light to be our cry, and we have perhaps made a mistake. Because they believe could help, even if initially it was, We have sold body and soul to a false representation of ourselves, feeding our ego that seemed to give us back the forces when we needed it most, in that unrestrained escalation towards a new, free vision. But this thing that we fed and on which we placed our fragile, but still lives, hopes, and betrayed us, or rather I should say we have made ourselves an exaggerated use.
And yes, because as the laurel of ancient times, of which a small dose healed, an overdose was fatal, we have taken advantage of their new discovery, and this exaggerated individualism, the new essence of ourselves, we brought so out of that vicious circle which we did part, but at the same time, has made us blind and deaf, and we did not notice all those things that keep losing more each day.
We are alone, this is the simple truth. E 'futile to believe that co-workers, fellow UNIVERSTÀ or school, friends of the wall, finally, with three nos 
, relamente can understand what we need, because after long talks, after the antics After the fine speeches, adventures, games, laughter, drinks, performances, dances, pats on the back, holding hands, we are alone. not realize it or not want, or I do not mind, but deep down we know, and who is the more rational course.
We are misunderstood, sometimes we get angry because we underestimated someone forces us to a role that is not ours, others take advantage. Other times we are pushed into a corner, and even if we refuse to take that position, no longer able to get out. And to no avail ostentatious displays of shameless exhibitionism or indifference, both because our role within that circle is already defined, and nothing can be done to change it.
's so. We groped or to enter or stay out. But in both cases the choice is wrong, and you know why? Why is not ours.
This is the problem today as before. The accolade, we are who we are and fuck the rest, or we can come to terms with ourselves and say, ok, this is the group I want to join, what should I do?
There, that is what I think, and this is not a remedy, a stopgap measure that can be used to solve everything. Any individual pass, sooner or later, this path uncertain, though not aware of it.
The basic lack of communication that makes us just feeding our ego, however, there tends to be friend. The inability to communicate, yes. And here we are back to the starting point.
of me? I do not believe to be more just than others, nor do I believe to be a part of the class of the lucky ones. I got to know many people and also for the work I do, I end up talking a lot, but this does not solve the underlying problem, because an exchange of words does not make me freer than if I were locked in a room.
Personally, I believe that I have attended some of you have opened my eyes to new points of view. Yes, because when I read the email I get from people I do not know but want to ask me out, I feel almost a paradox. In this world? In the above companies? So perhaps something is changing. Then maybe, people are different. Then, perhaps, there are still people who need, like me, leave dall'apnea forced to breathe a bit 'to be free. Then, maybe, just maybe, we are not alone.
The rest is pure fun, it's sharing something magical, a vo 
glia, a curiosity, a wish, a particular therefore, an important detail but not the focal point. Sometimes I feel alone. The room full of tourists or sitting behind the door the bathroom, sometimes I am conscious of being alone. That's why I love the color black, because it is dark or absence of color, but instead is a black light. Not evil, not evil, not about the clichés. E 'light. That's it. It 's a different light, dazzling to look good but misunderstood, like me.
cry if I see an animal in the street, dead or maimed, I get angry when I see one mistreated, the zoo makes me sad, makes me fall in love with a starry sky. I'm a fool because I believe in things that no longer make sense, silly because I tend to ignore the power held by people who are worth nothing. I am weak because I do not have the strength to respond to abuses and a coward for my lack of courage. I am unable to get that out of some situation, even though I know at the outset that can not be followed and that it will not. I am sad when I think of things I could do but I did not do. And finally, are stupid, because I still believe that tomorrow the sun will rise.
PS: I said that I might cut something, but eventually I did and not because of laziness (why not). The only change are the images that will add here and there.
