1. La bomba al fosforo tra l'aorta e l'intenzione
    Minutes to blast

    AvatarBy The australian skin il 24 Dec. 2015
     
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    It's Xmas time. Again. Possibly about one year has passed from my silent whines about suicide. Funny how things turn fast, as the hypothetical extreme consequence becomes from killing oneself to make a slaughter.

    Of course I won't actually commit any of those, but fantasies help to bear situations, whether it's a boring speech or troublesome family. Or to save word, family.

    Fact is I'm being really underestimated. To say I'm being treated poorly it's an euphemism. I drive all the way people around, never being thanked, occasionally they acknowledge how much I'm committing, but I'm holding on.

    I won't give up, I won't give in, because when all of this will be over, I want to be sure I did the best thing.

    I don't give a single penny to what my mother or my sister think of me.

    As a matter of fact I'm just human, after all. I also have to live my own life and, furthermore, I totally WANT to live my own life. Because it's great. Because I'm a lucky man and I'm in love and I have many ambitions.

    Geez. My ambitions. It's like when you look a scene and suddenly focus on the closer objects. They were there ask the times, but you were just trying to hard to figure what all those little stuffs, far in the background are.

    But those are probably just this. Little, far and background. Unimportant, irrelevant.

    Still I'm bearing a lot of stress, but luckily I've managed worse. I'm just regretting the times when I'm venting, showing that I'm not actually made of steel.

    I really hope the only countdown I will hear soon it's new year's eve and not the bomb in my brain.

    I had to think of my tree. My hiding, safe spot. Nobody can reach me there, on those bended branches, where I can read in peace. This tree which will survive the universe, impossible to cut, impossible to wreck, that can't rot away, because it's always rotting and renewing from itself, the tree with its roots planted so hard and firmly in the soil of time.

    I'm not made of steel, indeed I'm not. I'm nickel and I'm not the hardest metal. I'm soft and I'm not a noble element. I can rust and be melted, but I'm over greater deeds. I can make unoxidable alloys, I can split the atoms and event unite them.

    So as always, keep calm and watch me shine.
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