First period - Written This is the third written Romeo. Perhaps one of the most important.
If I know him well as I believe, the story is largely true.
The story, very short, takes place in some places where you really Romeo lived.
Rearranging the script this time it was very tiring cuts, tears, as amended.
was originally to be something much more substantial, almost a short novel, although I can not say for sure.
What I know is that she really existed in its history. Unfortunately, the past is not accidental.
We are turning, the great storm described in the final story (part rear addition to to end abruptly in the novel, in my opinion) is a parable about what happened in reality in, and what still is happening. Romeo
For the summer ended, on a certain day in September.
I know for sure.
Now, we wait a long and dark winter.
This is the third written, the last of the first period. From now reconstruct the part of the "Chronicles of madness."
It 's the part where you enter nightmare.
Who would have thought, might have been the disappointment of love to snap the spring.
After this story, yet pervaded by a kind of momentum into the future, yet in spite of everything positive and ironic, Romeo falls at a hallucinatory, mysterious and macabre.
I feel almost feel sorry for him, reading this last work.
It 's almost poetic, almost sweet.
perhaps did not foresee the apocalypse, the abyss.
In any event, stay tuned, because he has already on my trail. And I
on her.
again.
Endless Summer
was an old local, the ones with the smoke, the lights dim and everything else.
Even if the truth were not exactly the lights dimmed, they were yellowed from the smoke and dust. He looked like a film in black and white, indeed, black and yellow.
No, it was all yellow and brown; color of her hair, attached to the walls of smoke, the beer that flowed from abnormal glasses which were used in that kind of cellar.
YOU When he went to the bathroom, looked at the walk. I stared at the ass, and I wondered if they really deserved, an ass like that.
breathed a cigarette and I turned to my companion table:
- how do you think? -
- is a big pussy. -
- already. -
Ciucciai what remained of beer.
She was a kind of type Magrino-blond girl with freckles on his face and smart.
A guy once said that women are basically stupid animals.
I do not know if it's true, but we must admit that it is easily seen. She, for example, was not stupid, however, had an innocence and a transparency that leads her to realize anything. These features can definitely bring a woman into trouble. One need not be innocent, if you are women. You have to be petty smart and you always get what you want. Being vulnerable means to be innocent and pure, and probably silly. Was the lack of modesty, however, his best feature.
was not a vulgar girl, nor a bitch or a slut. Simply did what she wanted when she wanted. He was so innocent as to have no shame.
course fucking great.
He had always wanted, and it was always a pleasure to dive between the sheets with that sly face.
blink with a rhythm and expressiveness that would authorize the cock in Elton John.
anyway.
I met face to the study of sly Faso. Fuck while we were there to hear the latest recordings.
I lit a cigarette and blew the smoke away: she was there before me.
He was dressed in a striking way, no skirt, heeled shoes or something, none of this. She was dressed very simply, sports shoes, trousers wide legs but very low and tight around the waist, than almost falling, t-shirt with writing nonsense like " University 25 " or something like that.
how beautiful though, God bono. I'm sure it would be sexy even wearing a cardboard box. Shit, there are times when you just can not resist. I do not know if you understand what I mean and I could not even tell if it is love. I only know that as soon as I saw it I felt like when you take a fancy to his partner in junior high, I mean one that remains to look at all the time I could only think of mathematics as is beautiful.
's how I felt, like a stupid middle school boy.
then introduced me and I smiled, smiled at everyone.
Only that I did a sort of nod, as if we already knew (and perhaps the end was so, because I had always dreamed of, a mischievous face.)
His best friend, Guido, an alcoholic with a stomach rotten now, later told me she liked.
organized as to go out the next night.
We were all of us in the group, plus two stunned friends of Gus and the cousin of someone subnormal.
was hot, so we stopped at a cool drink in a bar in Porta Romana, their area, the area of \u200b\u200bface and sly Guido mean.
The beer flowed down the gullets with amazing speed and gave her a warm hand to stun. We ordered some wine and then, to conclude the evening, because now our terrible thirst had been nearly extinguished, and it was then that Gus told me of wanting to Face Furbetta. Obviously did not tell me so, spoke to me instead so disgustingly indirectly, as he usually did when Gus became slippery, "you know ... uh ... that Furbetta Face ... I like to please ... and I think ... I mean ... at least intellectually to understand the common interests ..." and then he continued , stammering, with other kind of playacting.
I nodded, swallowed the beer remained in the glass, and wondered if Gus had never smelled a pussy.
us headed home, while Gus was looking through the eyes of attracting the attention of Face Furbetta, came down the flood. So strong that Noah would shit down.
illuminated by lightning, two fragmented and elusive shadows of the night we were eating along the gleaming rails wet. Covered by thunder, Gus was able to free himself from the group, to furtively Face to accompany her home.
I knew that night would have eaten me, but there was probably used to.
There has never eaten the night?
With his black stomach and sweaty, you swallow and then vomit it to pieces in your bed.
Obviously the night spat also face sly and Gus, both intact and in the beds of the rooms of their respective owners.
I knew, I knew that she wanted to be eaten by the night with me.
Then, shortly after, the black hole that devours us, and we wallow.
Times were happy after all, we listened to lots of music and swallowed lots of beer, reading some good books, those that happen by chance, when you least expect it.
A typical day was: wake up when they had finished sleeping, meal at home - if there was anything to eat - otherwise out in the open in the old bar in front of the studio Faso. We ate a sandwich, a few beers and then a cigarette in the sun, lying on the grass at the corner of the park, before entering the studio to record.
Sometimes we meet with the rest of the group, we dined together. I still remember Guido Nergoni it down, one after another, endlessly. Then he vomited, he wiped his mouth, began again.
Every man should be able to live this way, at least occasionally.
We leave consume from wealth and poverty, we get crazy, behind 'is life, God's Executioner. Commitment, accuracy, style and good manners. And then not even have a face Furbetta arms.
's why I tried to enjoy the moments, precious shards of beauty in the midst of this delirium complete, we realize it's too late, that's life.
In those days, everything looked bright, lived, and I face sly in his apartment was messy but really nice and well located. We were near the center, we could go out to walk at any now, with no traffic problems, parking lots, various rompicazzi. He was really friendly, maybe a little 'taken ill and perhaps dusty, but this made him even hotter. And everybody knows that the faces are not very good at sly chores. Never mind, then, how to stretch. They better, they, all right.
went out when we wanted, we went to the park to drink and, if you had to record, he returned home. She clung to me like a leopard . Really, it was feline. I captured, enveloped me with his muscles wet, and I was HIS.
often ended up having sex and later we sat on the terrace to eat what happened while lying down on the red tiles and cold, the wine sucked watching the stars. I felt on my lips the taste of his flesh between his teeth and that of wine. The love we burn, we were so hot, but be lying there with the wind that caresses made all indescribably special. Must live such a thing. The muscles of the body relax, your back hot and sweaty that sticks to the cold floor, his face half hidden by the beautiful light hair, in which two deep eyes will light up reflecting the glow of the moon. I would stay there FOREVER .
At that time it was always summer, an amazing thing, the heat lasted for maybe five months. And it was SUMMER.
vagaries of climate that might accompany the freer and more relaxed period of my life.
will have to say ten times as much rain in those months, but nature did not seem to suffer drought. All remained fresh and green, in a kind of spell.
The heat was strong and intense. Often went to the river at the weekend, part 4 or 5 and we reached the Trebbia, no farther than a hundred kilometers. We lie in the sun, someone uncorked bottles and cans, someone else was playing.
But I remained sitting on my towel, watching Face Furbetta coming out of the water. He had a fantastic body, and yet not put him on display like any other woman would do for him. His soul was wearing the body with great ease.
out of the water, running his hands over his head, so as to bring back wet hair, making me be surprised by the beauty of her face. The rapid and moist eyes, small breasts supported by those muscoletti typically female feet with black polish on the nails. TO ANYONE would turned his head, was really charming. And I was, very likely, in love with her. Face Furbetta, then that girl! Too self-confident but not to trap an innocent like me ...
Yeah, jaunty and innocent. It was the right mix to make me crazy. When I spoke, when I looked, I looked like a girl without a past. It could have been a killer, a killer fucking pro, but I do not I would have noticed.
was white, white for me.
At the same time clever and intelligent as a few others. Possessive, yes, but it gave him to see. The other girls do not approached me because they understood immediately, Face From Furbetta would never allow.
It was, after all, a girl of wholesome, old-fashioned I guess. Passionate and blood, but not as strange perverse ways in what we now meet on the street or on the premises.
She liked making love and saw it as a normal thing (indeed the opposite would be abnormal), without modesty and shame, because there was nothing to be ashamed of.
It was a summer without end, my one and FDF.
Or so I thought, as long as there was inside.
Because the world had made it all the fucking around. Over and over again. The aphelion was removed, and we went to the break.
Like a thunder that pierces the sky, a flash that cuts it in two.
followed hail and rain.
It was all started with a downpour, with Face Furbetta and Gus that accompanied it. Gus knows what she is doing now. It will have a home, a job, maybe a woman.
No, it can be summer forever. Perhaps that is the lesson to be learned, maybe it's our job, to adapt.
Even if we miss the stars, the cool breeze, the wine with friends, pauses before resuming play, the child love, sex, sweat, music, guitar picks in his pockets, laughter.
We must adapt.
And learn how to get out of a dream, before it devours us from within.
