We were alone in the shade of the weeping willow. It was me and my harmonica.
tunes a melody ever written, dictated by the sadness of a moment. The thoughts assailed me as the point of death, I thought about everything and anything, the more or less, to the best and the worst.
Suddenly I saw in the distance, reappeared as well as it ever was. My life, with all its imperfections due to the companies that I never wanted, the people with whom I have pretended for far too long to get well. I put the instrument
nell'astuccio mp3 player and I started a kind of shamanic journey in the music world more dismal.
Sometimes you stop to think of not being understood, just as this music.
Then I lifted and I forget everything, I use hatred as an eraser that erases the pain. They play
Opeth, one of those songs, "all equal", but I recognize this, and Hessian Peel.
I put my headphones and turn up the volume to maximum. I feel at home.
nell'astuccio mp3 player and I started a kind of shamanic journey in the music world more dismal.
Sometimes you stop to think of not being understood, just as this music.
Then I lifted and I forget everything, I use hatred as an eraser that erases the pain. They play
Opeth, one of those songs, "all equal", but I recognize this, and Hessian Peel.
I put my headphones and turn up the volume to maximum. I feel at home.
I almost lost it, I let myself be carried away by the waves of music as a castaway from the sea.
I think and think, look and then think again. In the end I come to a conclusion:
these people is not so as I see it. They are all prissy in appearance, women are rigged, the men filled with hair gel, are always dressed like fashion says. When I go look at me almost with horror, I see the contempt that strikes me as the splinters of a grenade. I always dress in black, mistress of the night and dark tunnels. I, the beast of metal, I do not understand the "right way" to dress, to be, to listen, speak and do. So I am not going good for society, which are scum because I dress the way I like and not like someone else said, that they are scum because I hate, abhor even the disco, I speak with a vocabulary large and sometimes archaic, I love the solitude and reflection at all times. It's not them, so perfect people to dress all "according to law," who do things because someone else does, they think with one big collective brain, which work only to then throw away without knowledge, without a care in the future, without even knowing who we really are and what they really want.
I think and think, look and then think again. In the end I come to a conclusion:
these people is not so as I see it. They are all prissy in appearance, women are rigged, the men filled with hair gel, are always dressed like fashion says. When I go look at me almost with horror, I see the contempt that strikes me as the splinters of a grenade. I always dress in black, mistress of the night and dark tunnels. I, the beast of metal, I do not understand the "right way" to dress, to be, to listen, speak and do. So I am not going good for society, which are scum because I dress the way I like and not like someone else said, that they are scum because I hate, abhor even the disco, I speak with a vocabulary large and sometimes archaic, I love the solitude and reflection at all times. It's not them, so perfect people to dress all "according to law," who do things because someone else does, they think with one big collective brain, which work only to then throw away without knowledge, without a care in the future, without even knowing who we really are and what they really want.
Cogito, therefore, in my twisted mind, a sort of theater with 6 billion players. I watch him play outside because they do not know, I have been sidelined.
Say, recited. Sooner or later we all die, and when it's my turn, I will be happy to have, as opposed you, lived every moment of my dreary existence and marginalized, while you pretended to be what you've never been, and indeed, never will be.
Say, recited. Sooner or later we all die, and when it's my turn, I will be happy to have, as opposed you, lived every moment of my dreary existence and marginalized, while you pretended to be what you've never been, and indeed, never will be.
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