While it is true that "some nights the car is hot and where it takes you decide you," fuck this time I'm really lost!
I like to drive but, especially at night, my thoughts and distract me I do not do more than be there at the wheel by bringing in a sort of limbo. A limbo between this world and the world of dreams! As a child I had this bad habit: I always wanted to see it with your eyes open!
How many times I happened to wake with a start and then for a few seconds not even know anymore where I was or where I was going!
I do not know if it is normal but this thing here, to lose myself in my mind, I love it.
I remember once about 17 years I was physically sitting on my desk at school but with the mind I was embarking on a fast career as a player. I left the pitches in the suburbs and I had come in just two years into the first team in Bologna. And now I was about to enter the field for Bologna-Juventus 15 minutes from Bologna under the term of a goal. I already knew that in those 15 minutes I would have miraculously reversed the result.
Meanwhile in real life at school was the English class. That year we changed teacher and had reached a youngster who wanted to really teach English. With grammar and rules attached. I can not stand and so do not ever listened to.
I touched my first ball on the frontline, with a quick look and I saw a free corridor to fledging so the goal. The entire stadium had their eyes on me. Although I was on the field, I heard them on those looks. And I was pulling straight undaunted ... Now get up feeling well cheer that marked my name "ale ale ale ...
shook me a moment just before you pull and I realized that the whole class was watching me and the prof. for a while 'he was asking me something I did not understand and I stand by my neighbor called me to wake up ... "bitch .. you know what you mean bitch? Or do not even know that? "I was screaming that fake mother-tongue.
I did not know, I shrugged, hoping to get my dream but it was lost!
"bitch, bitch ... you mean" and I rubbing thing to know how to say whore in English?
I knew it, I can not concentrate on the road once again lost in my dreams ... then confirm
that is really true that "Some nights the street does not count and what counts is to feel that going."
because that night I went ... and I was happy!
There was no particular reason but there are moments that are special. Moments of perfection provisional. " I like this term. I had just bought that book Carofiglio its only thanks to that title "provisional perfections." And since that term came in my everyday life. I often go looking for those moments. Why indeed true perfection, that perfect, can only be provisional. And for me this was one of those moments.
car, after a successful evening, lost in the countryside between Modena and Bologna, with that little 'foggy atmosphere of surreal but not annoying at night in the dark with my favorite music to the ball.
Ligabue had just finished and had gone Baglioni "sit with our hands on a cold bench meter you are there 'what are you waiting for half past seven locked inside your overcoat a guy read the instructions carefully on the distributor of coffee' and a child plunges into a bigne '. "
Yes, I confess, I like Italian music. No, I love it. Since little. I was ashamed as a madman. All I was saying I was listening to rock music: Springsteen, Pink Floyd, at most Vasco Rossi. In fact Baglioni, Venditti, Baptists were my idols. I shoot them continuously. That child that dives into the cream puffs that I envied. In the morning my mother always gave me just coffee and milk with biscuits and then accompanied me to school that was 2 minutes from home. That child was in a subway instead. And I on the underground at that time there had never been. Plus he was dipping into a bigne perhaps chock full of cream. Bigne that I saw only in July at sea Pinarella ... will be for that dive or that guy who was reading the instructions in the coffee maker that I now end of the world but between 9:30 and 10:30 in the morning I have to run a bar to eat croissant and coffee.
E 'the ringing of a text message to ending that moment of perfection ... adrift to take in hand the phone but the curiosity is too much to expect. Who is writing me in the night? "Vodafone" ... I hate text messages to Vodafone. We delude themselves and instead would prohibit them ... nothing!
But now I'm back to reality ... I see a yellow light just beyond the left ... IKEA. And 'the ikea Casalecchio. Now I know where I am ... I did not know how to get there but I found myself.
But now I feel tired, I turn off the music and I can not wait to get there. 5 minutes and I'm home.
And while it is true that "Some nights you're just happier, more greedy, more naive and jerk as you can, those nights are just that vice I do not want to quit, quit, never. " Perfect, perfect temporary!
0 comments:
Post a Comment