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    s t o r y

    Proprio quello che mi serviva in questo momento, un'altra distrazione.
    Perchè non bastavano quelle che già avevo, ovviamente.
    Il lato positivo è che mi dà un motivo per prendere l'autobus la mattina.
    Il lato negativo è che probabilmente mi immagino tutto.
    E il lato grigino (sì, c'è un lato grigino) è che so che appena otterrò quello che voglio (e no, non parlo di sesso), smetterà di interessarmi.
     
     
    Detto questo, mi ritiro nelle mie stanze.
    Ma non prima di aver consigliato a tutti di vedere Four Rooms, film geniale, e Tim Roth ancora più geniale.
    Bene, ciao.
    Ah no, vacca troia.
    Volevo dire "ehi bambolo".
    (cosa lo dico a fare, tanto? il mio bambolo infiltrato è a un tot di kilometri da me, e nemmeno mi parla.)
     
    Non riesco a smettere di scrivere, giuro che ci sto provando.
    Davvero.
    Dirò soltanto che comincio a capire a cosa serve Facebook.
    Serve ad aspettare notifiche che non arriveranno, e allora aspetti, però non succede nulla comunque.
    Ma tanto, come ho già detto, anche quest'ennesima vittima smetterà di interessarmi presto.
     
     
    Do I need all the things I own?
    Am I pleased with the way things are?
    Wear that dress to protect the scar
    that only you have seen.
    Do I give just to please myself?
    Do I wish I was somewhere else?
    Justified all the things I tried,
    said that it was all for you.
    And be near, just for the moment.
    Stay here, never go home.
    Did you know that everything I ever do is for you?
    Have I learnt all the secrets yet?
    Was I burnt by the things you said?
    Took the dive just to feel alive,
    but never heard the truth.
    Now I'm in love but I don't know how,
    and I'm in pain 'cause I want it now.
    And as I sit watching his eyes close,
    I  slowly open mine.
    And be near, just for the moment.
    Stay here, never go home.
    Did you know that everything I ever do is for you?
    I am so confused by this,
    I know that life is hit or miss.
    Days are stung by too much sun,
    I think that you may be the one.
    Cover yourself up in me,
    shrouded in what could have been.
    I will listen to your pain, if you listen to me.
    Did you know that everything I ever do is for you?
     
     
     
    rAin

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