Fire Prevention Posters

hopping around in my path happens

though it seems,

slowing down.

I do not watch for sure the only stop certain,

also because I have "quite a lot more" to do.

Usually I talk a lot,

part di me,

del farmi conoscere,

nel non nascondere le mie migliaia di difetti,

che continuo a portarmi dietro.

Valigia non pesante,

facente parte del soggetto se medesimo in questione.

Mi ritrovo nel mio aspetto di dannato,

non l'ho dovuto sposare,

are only entered in the choices that I decided

and I'm not sorry for anything,

do not regret anything.

My tongue is like bristles of the brush, I like to describe the emotions and feelings,

try to do it, though continues to remain difficult color images

with words that are often not quite sufficient, or at least do not come to satisfy what I want to express.

But my talk,

not part of a prearranged plan,

as in everything I suddenly

letting the reflection of the particular experiences at particular points,

give voice to my silence.

this enchantment.

That damn black plate that reflects light.

And my path does not stop,

my path has goals,

but to know,

continue to amaze me.

just that I realize that the words which I call the silence

at the end are nothing more than that.

Who stops along the way,

I paint with acid colors,

reflects only black on me.

dress that does not deny,

dress that suits me,

still wearing only myself.

Unfortunately there are those who lose in the path my words and would like to make my own its.

This is not I mean it does not make mistakes.

Li commit indeed.

But a fist to stop the wind seems impossible ..

actually standing still is impossible.

And when that happens you break up those castles that were built,

not care to be of sand or brick

erosion static,

of the discount

do nothing but erode over time what seemed certain.

Adrenaline And all those thoughts about the future,

I do not have it and not because I shun,

but why do not want to miss this thinking something that does not exist.

And from my non-stop from start to do all those phrases tried to accuse a past that was present,

on a life that was growing.

Only I do not deny the past.

Sometimes I wonder if I was alone in that past without noticing.

You breathe fresh air down here.

I love it when you send me to hell.