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Disintermediation


will be the crisis, will Italiot inventiveness, but in Milan I see more often. Vans and APEC are bearing goods from the producer to the end user with clear benefits for all. The receipt is often optional, but some have their good cash register with plenty of ATMs. And if a friend has his pusher of fresh fish and other vegetables, I throw myself on hedonism. It so happens that I was healthy as a speaker, in defiance of common decency and temperature, I have a leather mini-dress in the middle of the street. Interesting dialogue.
Yesterday, however, are falling victim to a Neapolitan florist on wheels, from which I buy freesias and ranunculus. Prices are those of my usual supplier, only that for each article gives me 50 (yes, fifty-quan-ta, five tens) of branches. And after an hour of clearing house echoes of this poignant scent of white flowers, which can not attract the insects, the lure of color stun them with the promise of a flavor.

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listen to music with eyes

university, one of those beautiful houses where students just happen to go and live (or only to students who seem so beautiful, mah?), There was this music that kept exit window of the building opposite. Classic stuff, played for hours. came from a room furnished in modern style and a bit 'minimal, in which stood a white stone staircase from the steps in beech and without railing, which probably rose to a loft. the building was one of those palaces of the late eighteenth century neoclassical stucco cornices, then the inside there apt nothing but gave me a good feeling.

to stay put, to study the table on the veranda, you ended up easily peek into the window well to touch them. after a while 'I am used to anonymous movements of that room and I began to understand things. music, for example, mica did not go out every day and every hour. in the morning when the shutters were put together and the summer heat came in less, not never happened to hear while, You are not wrong, during the week, at sunset, the concert accompanied you weak at least for a couple of hours.

it took me a few months to see who lives there, who will exercise all those days, those in front of that window even did gymnastics, who will leave around clothes that gave him the idea of \u200b\u200bhaving been abandoned along the difficult road to the bed Night falls spirits.

I finally understood but I have never made and never have spoken. I always thought I was interested more the image I had built, rather than its actual version.

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I have no children and no shell, so the ski always catches me by surprise. He leaves behind a thin city, with the largest parks, streets quieter and more supermarkets empty. I love this dress rehearsal of the city in summer, and I thank those who leave an empty seat to follow the snow, the sun or the arts.
My week tends to be white washed, I mean give me flowers, walks without a leash and movements round the corners without haste. And with the Unmentionable which returns tonight for my holiday will be perfect.

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In my evening stroll I follow the scent trails of Wish, ending with her in Via Cerva. It was so close to the house where I grew up, this street so narrow and ancient, and Milan, to be the destination of my first outings alone. I looked at the windows of shops that today are almost all changed, only where the shoemaker bought leather strings for bracelets remained in place. And as I look around thinking that I know where I am, I realize that I have no idea where I'm going.
Everything changes around me, only I continue to look like, without a goal autumn leaf dancing in the wind. And what I love, my terrible freedom.