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* Click *

Sometimes something clicks in the brain. Maybe something that you're right so long, you understand, you've been brooding about it, you accepted, you've rationalized. And you think you have done yours. Every now and then return in doubt, but after having gazed a bit 'put them under that carpet of common sense that you have woven.

But one day

* click * And you realize that without that little click, nothing was true. What have you been deceived very well, in good faith and believed to have done really, that wins. And probably all of this work has meant that the click comes, maybe I'd be still waiting, you would still crying. But it is he who counts is quell'inversione polar in your brain, without the shot, is an investment grant.

And the light changes everything. The points of view angle change, discover new cuts, folds that had hidden nuances.
It 's like to add a fourth dimension to the normal perception. It does not change the substance, but it changes how you perceive it.

Dura? Ah, I do not know.
certainly an era ends and another begins.
Of course you only a little inside.
certainly not be able to return as before. Fortunately
.

To be sure, is one of those small events that we build, those little milestones to celebrate.

Only the dead and the stupid never change opinion.
(James Russell Lowell)

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I believe it was the uneven surface of the Appia Antica.
As if the squirrels at Villa Borghese had nothing to do, right?
Ok, but that has to do in the end it was the fault dell'Injera with all that spicy meat.
"Sweet Home Alabama"? Do not exaggerate. If anything later on.
And the giant duvet after all has had his share.
Along with the herbal tea on the couch.
And the shelter cats.
And snack square Argentina!
But you always think about eating?
Are you denying that is one of the things we like?
Sure we like, but you put too much emphasis! The walks in the sun where you put it?
Eppiantatela a bit '. We were good, right?
Yes ..
... much.
So shut up and enjoy the aftermath of the feeling while it lasts.

* Silence grateful to all those who have had a hand in this wonderful weekend *

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I'm sitting on the floor of my room in the dark. I know that it is almost, I saw the clock just now, but I have not really matter. Listening to the small noise, in silence, considering whether it is appropriate to express some thoughts. I have none. And just maybe there is not much to say.

At about the same time I feel several explosions near and far, growing up in succession. The time is over, and I'm still squatting on the floor, barely conscious of the people I left without batting an eyelid, not too concerned with what may be doing or thinking.
from somewhere up to my chest, an incredibly clear voice in the midst of the bubble of silence and barrels away, a few words. "If nothing else I'm starting the new year in the arms of someone who loves me." Two shining eyes and dolororsissimi. "It's about point of view. "

My heart broke. I want to make that voice, cover, pararla, raise walls and moats to defend it, the emptiness around them, filled with cotton, so that arrivals did not nothing, that nothing touches The sting, the hurt.
But I can not. I can only put in half and soften a bit 'what is still to come, but the broken heart that I have at hand is bleeding, and I do not have tourniquets or patches.

If nothing else, said the voice, I'm sure he loves her for what she can serve at this time.
not I tell you, there's no need. He has my arms around him crying.