Song of the weekend

4412

Oggi.

Fra nebbie e nervoso e calca.

Ressa e semi-silenzio.

Telefonate non volute ed anche alcune che ho desiderato ma sono divenute sabbie mobili.

Gente che non capisce la parola ‘impegnata’…Povero Ti!

Ed io che inforco la bici e vado.

Sí vado per non litigare e si salvi chi può.

Poi il ritorno, ore in auto.

Altro silenzio.

Io che mi dirigo in cucina pronta a prosciugare mezzo litro di tè e quindi una bella doccia.

E nella cucina ci ritrovo Ti, seduto su una delle seggiole in paziente attesa, non dovrebbe nemmeno esserci secondo la sua agenda.

Un’occhiata mi basta.

A lui no.

No.

No.

Ci sono domande che non si fanno.

Non così.

Soprattutto non a me. Mai a me.

Don’t do it, just don’t.

Life is already a bitch.

3857 ovvero come convertire un salutista convinto…

When you promise him to take care of dessert for dinner…
And you present him with Tiramisù made like it has to be made.
And he goes…

“Fräulein…what the hell is that thing?!”
“I thought it was pretty much self explanatory.”
“I’m not eating it, that’s a heart attack waiting to happen!”

I watch him, he watches me.
He gets weary but keeps a straight face…
…then fidgets and that’s my cue!

“How much would you wager if I tell you you’re going to want another portion after you taste it?”
“Not gonna happen, Fräulein.”
“Try me.”

End of the story?
The moment the first spoonful disappears inside his mouth I actually see his pupils dilating like balloons.
I can’t hide the smirk, ignoring his puppy eyes.
I firmly took the tin and put it in the fridge.
Because I too can be evil sometimes…

3783

There are times I scream while driving.
The need overpowers all my common manners, overpowers the eight Kenwood speakers audio system.
The Chevrolet purrs under my feet in a primal answer to the anger.
Because it’s a long while ago I took my loved bike for a ride.
I had enough of about everything currently around me.
I’m itching for a fight.
La valvola di sfogo diventa l’umido nastro nero illuminato dai fari lunghi della mia tesora.
We run like bullets.
The soft mist lacerated by the sheer force of the engine as the speed goes up.
Me smiling when the indicator hits the two-hundred mark and the only thing i hear is the roar.
I think I shall be home before breakfast Ti, remember to add a cup for me, please.

Why does my heartbeat feel like a speaker?
Feeding back…
Repeater, repeater!

3513

Il mondo in generale: magra, macché quella è anoressica! Sempre attaccata allo smartphone come se ci lavorasse (difatti ci lavoro -_-) e ore ed ore nel weekend in Mountain bike come un eremita…mangia solo verdura e sopravvive grazie a secchielli di tè che sembrano petrolio….
Quella non è vita sana!
Blablabla blablabla……….
………
……….
Io: (massaggiandomi l’attaccatura del naso dove l’emicrania c’è già e pulsa, fasciata nel mio tubino taglia 42)

Excited writer on the prowl…

Oh I like when the stories in my mind take a turn for the worse…=D
This one is going to be so epic, and emotionally damaged!!!
I think I will be too busy to sleep tonight LoL
Linds, Michelle, get ready my darlings because is going to be a bloody carnage!
And you will be in the center of it…
Hardcore mode ON.
Oh, yeah…