How To Make A Guy Fawkes

~ Saturday.

I want to drink my nineteen years of life. I want to live them - but really do - go out at night and the night, every night. Losing any harmful habit. Losses, sometimes enough. And while
that I will no longer wake up with morning so atrocious, with the tar on the tongue, the taste of alcohol and now acid headaches nearly unbearable.

because last night they gave us almost every hole, and we stayed in three. Why last night I was nervous, I hated the world, I hated the people around with the same intensity with which I hate my day. And instead - at half past ten - were still to Pescara, one of the local old-fashioned wine bars that attract people because they still have basic lighting of candles and the dark walls.
's where we got to laugh, to remember, joking. And the bad mood is gone. The rest
of the evening slipped away, including cicchetti, cocktails, trying with every bartender of any room not just to have a discount, but more because we needed before the other (this trick has really worked with one, but maybe it was the kind gentleman / refined: I also chiamaia Mademoiselle ~ after she made the drinks), the scrounge cigarettes each passing while taking a full package in her purse, the message with friends / brothers and do not miss understand what you are writing (which is This is the only thing that I did not).

I came home that had piùomeno three and, in my bed, already looking to die. The good news is that in those moments I I had forgotten my former love of my current problems: all I had them removed, the only thing that I was able to do is dig up the memory of times gone by - that the worst of these were good.
In fact, yesterday I told Christine my fifteen-sixteen.
( I do not hardly ever. )

And this morning? The malaise.
No, seriously, malessero physical, mental, emotional - all types of discomfort that can occur in a Sunday as cold as this.
I do not even want to smoke, figuratevivoi .

The nice thing is that, at some point, I started to speak for quotation. Except that - as in After-mania - Were all phrases from their writings. The peak was at: What do you want? with prompt response: I thought surface, beaten only by my will sssstr-another revolution. That's right xD


C'est la vie ~