Vulpix Plush Backpack

Recurrences. historical memory




On my return home, just off the car, I find myself at his feet a yellow parrot, which does not fly, but it is still there, waiting to be invested eaten by a cat or a car. Apparently he escaped from a cage. Not afraid, not run away. I think if I leave there will not arrive until tomorrow. I have the backpack, my daughter's arm, her basket, her doll pram ... how can I also carry a parrot? And leave him there to die?
The last bird that I found myself at his feet (on my part) was a sparrow fell from the nest. It was evening. It had been exactly six months after the death of my son Lorenzo. "It 's a sign!" I thought. And indeed it was, I took it, I cared for the whole evening, I tried to feed him, I settled for the night, with intent to deliver in expert hands of Lipu the next day but the day after the little anorexic was already dead as a doornail.
This parrot is another yellow instead use history: almost 38 years ago my cousin Paula, on the stairs of my house, let me bring her colorful parrot gives me a boost and makes me tumbling down the stairs. I was about four years.
think that tomorrow I'll find the yellow stone dead parrot? No, this time it's my cousin who left us pens, a dozen years ago, liver cirrhosis, after a life of wandering, heroin and prostitution. I always wondered if someone found it thrown in a parking, helpless, he would have picked up. I have not done. And not to avenge the fall down the stairs. I was just a kid. Paola was the only cousin with whom I have heard of intimacy. The only cousin in respect of which I never thought to belong to the same species. A race
self-defeating, with the fire inside, far from the beaten track from the good Samaritan.

What Team Did Kenny Stabler Play For

They asked me: "Why 'Memory Sick' ?"
for several reasons. A bit 'for short. Because in the end "sick memory "would be more correct, but longer to type every time you connect.
memory has always been one of my obsessions. A compulsive and nostalgic memories that bound me to the memories and the objects, preventing me to give up things they had participated in my life. In my fantasies as a boy biographers imagined crowds of frantic searching of parts and details of my history and my past. Let's say that my making it easier to maintain continuous task. Another way of saying things that leave has always given me a pang. At school I was always characterized by a proverbial memory capacity that I avoided the long hours books. I only had to pay attention in class to repeat everything with no problems.
Over time I discovered that accumulate too many things is the best way to confuse. My thousand pictures, all movies, my 40 journals, books, leaflets, letters ... I do not know where to look for things. Many things that I have kept most of them do not even know. I noticed when I merged the computer. The coach asked me: "What did you have to retrieve important?" "Boh! Everything. Nothing. Who remembers "...
Today we witness an incredible loss of memory. It will be the old age. Will information overload that knocked storage. It will be that the birth of my children I have not slept properly.
fact is that my short term memory has been shattered. I remember very well my childhood and all the memories away. But forget all that has happened to me recently. I have tried to stem the landslide. I take notes. I make lists of things to do. But usually I forget to read the list of things to remember and I do not know where I put the notes.
now I resigned myself to shut the machine twice to remind me if I stamped the badge in the office upside down hill at the entrance and exit riggiro. With vitamins I take every day I think to make a mark on the calendar every day. But often there is a pen nearby and I plan to do this later ... and then ... boh? What was I saying?

Star Points Nintendo Generator

E 'exploded!


In the place where I work they say: "It 's the case exploded."
Here, however, exploded this evening is the baby. It 'exploded so well that when my wife called me, I wondered how he did the shit to get up there.
"Tienigli hand," he said in a peremptory tone.
And in an instant I was in the hunt too.
"Scherzo a priest," I said "too frequent the church community."
"I made a mistake, I meant 'tienigli arm'!"
"Ah!"

Allusions In Romeo And Juliet Act 2

What I can not stand the death ...



What I can not stand the death distorts the reality is that, mystifies the our feelings of yesterday, overwhelms everything, like a river in flood, sweeping away the antipathy, resentment, defects, bad memories and leaving in its place golden image and hypocritical. I do not
I can hear people who caress the ears and the consciousness with the refrain "Dear old Mike ..."!
But it was not an old fool, boor, who was determined to leave no room for the young? Not until we all agreed that it was a dinosaur all'altroieri of television?
Today we do, in honor of our false consciousness give him the honors of war?
not you dare to do 'what is on my ashes!
come to fetch you all and throw his feet in his sleep! I was a pain in the ass pain in the ass and I will remain in eternal memory.