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Pan Orange

was round. Orange. We watched. You looked at her ... at first it was just as it is now, when gradually swelled and its surface cracks, and soft and juicy offering its essence in the oven .. Were you suspicious, undecided .. inclined to think that it was not right, because she was sweet, too sweet maybe.

Then you decide, and almost nothing by pretending to have sunk a spoon into the glaze and you've tasted.

Suddenly our speeches have become indistinct and fused a background in the soft embrace of Pan orange ..

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Rais

The name of a giant dog that is abandoned to the passing of pampering people met by chance. Two giant eyes and good, a huge truffle nose and a big mouth drooling. He does not talk, can only listen. Rejoices and grieves with the owner, loves him unconditionally.
...
Is it not so that we should love us too human?
No, there would be no reason to leave. Never.
have to walk on eggs, consider who was there before us and to reckon with some confidence, that someone could come after ... barricade themselves behind walls infinitely high of unspoken but implied, "to understand but if you do not realize I was only joking," just think of sweet words and mental journeys only .. have to do it, you have to survive to the distrust of someone who does not trust because you do not trust, that does not tell you why not tell them that you do not smile because he did not smile. Must so that not to hear I told you by those who want to protect at all costs instinct unhealthy and harmful to give himself unconditionally. To look happy and carefree, because he was so in the account ...
reborn dog, then I could. Drool when I think, jumping in his arms to people that I extend my arms, smelling the other without thinking that they will turn to bite, giving the leg did not feel dirty and messy but good. Without conditions. But I'm not
Rais.
walking on eggshells. Every now and then slip and break

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Proverbs

Quann 'lu sol' vote for ross', u 'padron' allong 'lu' moss';

Quann 'lu sol' IE drop down, 'u' master 's is accuvat ';
Quann'luù sol' Vote Vote, a master lu 'lu nge seize mot'.

This was a peasant rioneresi said, when they went to work in the fields of the masters, (Quann 'scev'n' araut).

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Quicksand

When you move with difficulty in the rooms of your life, you look around at every step for fear of tripping over old memories, when you walk back from the cold and your bare feet and makes you cringe thinking of varying the path you have undertaken. It 's like walking in a fog, wrapped in a thin layer of uncertainty, the only one able to give you a shiver of curiosity, unique in being able to freeze the heart when you are in a dead end, surrounded by doubt and fear make mistakes.
no longer recognizes the limits of certainty and the quiet routine of anxiety that can eat you, and then you realize that it is the same, and We're constantly in, helpless, as immersed in the quicksand, and you do not know what to do, if you move or wait, motionless, for someone to save you.
Your eyes fill with tears, but nobody can see them, because while you sink an absurd Catch assurance that you have never ceased to move, to rush to get rid of all this, but every attempt is been in vain, and when trying to reach out you have been sucked, increasingly, a whirlpool which indifferent prevented you to shout your mouth full of shameful silence.
While your eyes grope in the dark looking for a foothold, you realize that the earth is still beneath the your feet, and everything else that surrounds you, you clings, nell'ineluttabile vacuum that has made a blind crowd of feelings.

TM

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