"But the best thing in my den is silence. Of course this too is misleading. It can be stopped and then suddenly all over. But for the moment is still there. I can crawl hours in my galleries and if you do not hear the rustling of some little animal sometimes I do squeezing it between his teeth now silenced, or the slide of the earth that I announce the need of some repair. "Franz Kafka, THE LAIR (1923-1924)
Blow on the surface of a glass of wine creates small vortices, but a breath irregular . I then decided to flatten under the weight of my body in the foam cushion, a large scab that pillow, never enters his shelf, was an obligation to devote to it, there was a whole day on it.
Tiles Bathroom color when the purple, my toothbrush will do his duty. And the floor was once red, now it's unlikely a color, mixed with the gray of the sidewalk, I will devote this finished once the tiles, I suppose they can hold the bristles. So I'll have to buy a new toothbrush, I sbrigherò to do so. Passing through the avenue I thought it would be if there were volunteers in this lazy and old town, the flowers withered on the ground floor made my color unlikely. The bulb could burn out at any moment, will change it, it never happens that I stay in the dark. It also enlarges the dark night with the cadence of my breath. I can not leave the light on, a grown woman knows some things. I'll wait primroses bloom, but I'll never say I love the flowers, a modern woman does not say certain things. I can catalog the books that I studied years ago, place them in various ways, from the first last, from the complex to the simplest, oldest to newest. I'll be done so everything looks new and sensible. And every now and then throw an eye at the top. It 's so that I found the dusty chandelier.
pirouette have seen me with the impetus of ideas, the agenda has the insane task of pushed me back every day to those who have lost their bounce, as I learned to swing on the swing, when no one could me more push, I wanted to learn, once I forgot where I was all the excitement. It was a challenge with the human being, I in my turn, the other behind, to exist at the expense of the other, found the balance: the independence and boredom.
rebuild strong scaffolding, the friendly permission to transmit everything myself, with my Brinder often unique tightrope too, unaware of the role.
The days are long. To them the task of keeping me awake as much as possible.
I tried to clean the walls of the house but did not think it holds and the infamous mainly because oblige me to turn our gaze ever upward.
household noises reestablish contacts with the surrounding area and fortunately no one will notice me with the rope of gold, meanwhile, a woman bored learn some things.
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