Another time clock. Food that does not want to join me and purple and black jersey. Clear that the guy who kept calling me last night m'abbia actually severed male attributes that I unfortunately never owned. I lost control on a sunny spring like this, Mirko goes around in the car, microphone to his lips, I have not yet figured out what it means to Seila. White bicycle and someone calls me Monella. Bicycle white sock and a different, one blue and one striped purple. I call my brain Arturo. I search the streets near the Church of Grace. I search the streets of the country. I search for the historical center, in the trees, and flowers in the Screen cinema. No trace. And I take in hand, finally, and I understand that I just laugh at me once more before being happy. Sfigaterrimo blog!
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