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Greetings!

Waiting to take seriously (the) mind activity on this blog (some of the ideas already brewing!) I wish you all a Merry Christmas to spend!

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beautiful

In the colors of a Van Gogh is the destruction of a city, the cries of millions of people but they are not there.

dismantled a factory, or perhaps growing, standing next to a crane. But no one driving. A fire burning out of the bags of garbage that was a pomp for stray raises becoming more of a smoke color to yellow to black. It does not warm anybody.

There is a kind of courtyard, enclosed and poorly with only one exit, inside there is concrete, but grass, wood and clay, and a hole in the middle. And there's no one sitting. lacking the giant who should be there, as on a mattress with his weight to bend the earth. Not because it is gigantic, only because it is sitting there.

In the foreground on the left of a bridge, up and down. It collapsed for some mysterious force that is no falling over, while the fence a few meters, as the factory and other buildings in the district will challenge the centuries of this eternal afternoon in an orange color to yellow.

I'll never see anyone come to fix this bridge, the poles of the fences do not rot and never will no cat in the garden where perhaps one day very far back in time, a giant he was sitting. Or was it a passing herd of mice.

leave us alone with time, just as it is the only city that I mentioned, not even a poor dog under the bridge, closing the eyes under the stifling heat of an eternal day.

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Mah ...

Sometimes that happens .. walking through what we consider to be the right way we come across a beautiful pozzangherone.Pieno water? No. Full of memories. And we do a little 'the end of that poor little duck bagnaticcia army of holy patience and his valiant and brave stick trying to get out.

Everything indicates that until we are drenched with reminiscence as her, we can not get out much facilmente.La theory says that life will inevitably change, sometimes willingly in most cases, giocoforza.Nell 'collective imagination, an afterthought in this sense, a backtracking is considered a defeat. What a feeling

schifosa.Che miserable end.

is dropped on the floor, exhausted. He looks at his hands, which are full of scratches and scars .. do not know how if it is inflicted, but certainly knows who will forever remain indelible li.Segni which form part of him.

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cod with potatoes

While the political storm rages outside the Alfano Bill, I quietly contrast with chitchat a bit 'of feminine strength and resume (finally) to write on this blog and on the screens of my 4 readers (no quotation Manzoni, you are really in 4 to have signed my feed).
topic today is a recipe that I love, or salt cod with potatoes, which propose a second version freely reworked by me.
Unfortunately, the post will not be signed because the camera kit tested gravity with the camera, resulting in their breaking the optical part.


Ingredients Cod (salted cod)

potatoes 1 onion
Pepe

Parsley Oil

Quantities are more or less at your discretion. For two people I did 3 grams of salt cod and 4 medium potatoes.

Place for three days to soak the cod in a large bowl of cold water covering it. To ensure better desalting change the water about twice a day.
the past three days, take the cod, rinse it, put it in a saucepan, covering it with cold water and let it simmer for 20 minutes removing the foam that will surface. Meanwhile, boil the potatoes with the skin for about half an hour.
When the cod is cooked, remove from pan, remove the skin and cut into fairly large pieces and keeping a 'cooking water (about one glass). Peel the potatoes and cut roughly into pieces of average size. Slice the onion and let it brown in oil over low heat, add the potatoes and fry for a few minutes. United finally the cod with the cooking water and a dash of chopped parsley. Let cook for another 20 minutes, stirring often so as to mix the ingredients. Serve hot.

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And tonight I'll put in the bed, covered in some more sense because, 'wisdom' avro 'cold without you without you ever ... always on ...



Thoughts that rape sweet soul dannata.Dannata forever ....

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...............................

thanks to a full time
thanks for you more ..
true thanks for the teeth
defects
for
barrel of fun for our creativity

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But if you're no longer in the skin and you need an excuse?


Simple, I'll dai.Bella, clear and transparent as a glass of water on a hot day agosto.Avevi need an excuse, and now you do. You can go quiet You can breathe deeply that you wanted more than anything: his profumo.Sai that there will not for long .. how many times? Two, three, maybe quattro.Hai decided to live fully you have in this momento.Ce stomaco.Eri tired and have decided scegliere.Hai decided to live, no? I want to live for what will last, holy already a little 'bitter inside cuore.E' a smile that blossoms that makes you feel good, a clean face that acts as a frame for big eyes, dentro.Uno look to look to challenge, a complicity that has more than one erotico.E something that you just pluck the strings.
you like him / her your mind, show him who you really want to know you in the most hidden desires profondo.Anche want it to be too suo.Dovete live together and remain without fiato.L 'have sought and perhaps trovata.Basterà look forward to all this? And 'yes, definitely si.Lei has understood everything and play, play with your senses is playing with your mente.Ma how good it feels to have the chills? When did you try it!? Do you want a life of chills from head to piedi.Non so, are increasingly rare, is always less intense.

Outside there is a whole night ... want miss? [Cit.]

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put that one night ...

Put that one evening he came home six from work at a reasonable hour, you are also able to do so two vocals (maybe) tomorrow your singing teacher you do not cazzierà for the umpteenth time. Put
happy because you are also able to make a semi-ritual and beauty while you stand in his slippers, pajamas in half with a turban that dries the water from freshly washed hair at 21:37 the phone rings.

Take the full-calling: to be my boyfriend? No, not because we are already chatting amiably on the phone fixed.
will be the mother? No, because it will be in the middle of a wriggling during her weekly yoga class.
will be the office? No, do not need to call me at this time.
Punctual as the cycle when you're on vacation you call the editors of the newspaper you work with that very rarely - just happened just tonight - has exhausted all the employees for the crime.
"Hello, there was a fire xxx to go see?"
"Er ..."
"But you are of xxx?"
"Yes"
And while you think, I tell him? What are the phone? In the shower? What I'm exhausted and I have already provided work for today? I'm seeing Sanremo and not, absolutely can not ask me out because the songs are irresistible? I'm sewing my dress for the birthday of my Barbie and I have to finish it for tomorrow?
No, excuses seem too pathetic, decided answer:
"Yes, okay, I'm going in about twenty minutes ..."
The calm is shattered as accumulated under the hum of the dryer with one hand while you do the fold and the other recovered paper and pen.
Talk about multitasking at all hours of day and night.

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night thoughts

signs that things are not as they should:

I'm getting a very good seller for me.

We arrived at the "apparently very little substance."

What little appearance is what keeps me standing.

(Logical inconsistency daily living)

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lighting matches

it's time to be brave and illuminate areas of the soul not vibrate

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sometimes find that the gray sky in the morning is just a metaphor for the restlessness that leads into ...

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snow from a window

Waiting for the frost to melt even my block (more or less voluntary) to write, I try to revitalize this blog (to prevent die permanently) with the beautiful sight I had this morning, while working forcibly confined home:

- Snow from a window -