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I believe in the circularity of intentions, the contamination and fades: each generates a retraction protraction equipotent and this pursues the other relentlessly.

I believe that the distances are shortened due to inaction, and in those who voluntarily sow friction because we love to be in default and those that run along paths that do not provide guarantees nor consolation.

I believe in moderation, that belongs to me by nature, and discipline, which I never do that to impose the fund.

self-sufficiency of nature, is completely independent from our daily practices of all that is for himself, enchants me. For this I must introduce an era of respectful admiration for what is happening in your statuary needs.

Everything runs fast and is simply wonderful on the ground under the sky.

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How a love of poverty

When the time will give you the distance that he deserves
You will have a
new degree and your money to buy the things you need
Mask cynicism behind colorful clothes

begins to read the newspapers and kill the evil of your insights

will come back to smoke and go to the Merit theater
enough to find that itself is a painful practice
What stirs the boundaries of their sensitivity

"You're Beautiful" will he repeated
"You More," I reply

When you at night bite the bowels
With the task of planning
And those bloody thoughts of further
prolong your laziness than a hundred square meters
'll wake your mother that will help you take care of the plants in the dark
But you'll see all the dried roots
That she estirperà cursing

will come back to drink Trappist and collecting clocks
itself is sufficient to find that a necessary practice
that collects in a single beam the thousand voices of nostalgia

"You are beautiful" you said
"Like you," replied

Now that the time has given you the right distance from him
proudly displays the scars
And you know how to smile when you were a child

Without him you would have been another