Those minutes on the tram were clear, a window on another world. A colorful event
[...] When I thought of you my thoughts had never the point. Only commas. They were an avalanche of words and images without punctuation
[...]
wrote. [..] I liked to see her writing. First of all, because to do so he removed his glove and then because you could see he was totally immersed in what he did. So much so that even I was jealous. It 's true that when he wrote he never raised his head from the book during the trip, but to see so involved in what he wrote made her even more fascinating. I wanted to be part of that world.
Even when not distracted ever read. To do wear glasses, The were good. I liked to watch her slip a finger under the right page and, sliding it lifted it from the rest of the book.
[...]
Girl of the tram was beautiful. [..] But the thing that attracts me most were his eyes, what you saw in crossing them for a moment, dark, deep, unavoidable.
[..]
That morning I saw her look out the window reflection. [..] I found it much more intimate look of a direct cross. As if it were discovered to steal something. As if in fact made it clear that surface will also hitherto been silent. That time is just decreased and the tram is broken, I turned to look at her, I did too.
[..]
One day, after it fell, I waited a few seconds and I got up. I put her where she was and where I placed my hand was holding its first few seconds. You could still feel his warmth. [..] Its heat was something intimate in that moment, I had the desire to touch a small part of a world that she had touched, I wanted to be after his first touch.
[..]
I'm always afraid to disturb. As a child, in another's house, when I asked if I wanted a glass of water, even if I was thirsty, and answered: "No, thank you." When someone offered something, even before he finished the sentence I had already said no. In life I've always been afraid to be a burden, of being a nuisance. This was a real catch.
Chapter 3 - Silvia
Silvia for me is like the string of the tightrope walker when I am happy we dance on with a colorful umbrella, and when I'm sad I cling.
[..]
"Silvia, [..] to him what has changed? Maybe something from the economic point of view, but continued to do his stuff as before. Period. So far it went well because you have always accepted it. For the desire to have a family you have canceled. You set against any liability, and will continue until this, because it should never let go? The problems between you started when you began to demand more attention from his [..] Take the time you need [..] I think it's better for Margaret. Having an unhappy mother I do not think a good education and do not kid yourself that you are not noticing. Children hear everything. "" I know, I know. You know what he told me the other day while I put to bed? Mom why do not you laugh more? I held back the tears until I left the room and then I burst into tears. "
[..]
Perhaps one of my problems is that I do not ask anything from anyone but I need of all. I have always tried not to disappoint others, not to be a burden or a worry "
[..]
Sometimes people are just doors, passages. For me, I am for you. Even strangers, every encounter is a door "
Chapter 5 - Ex (sometimes back)
writing, writing, writing. I always tried to hole up in a corner, hidden from everything and everyone, bent on myself to write, with his back to the world. As if the world was the past, as if writing was a small spacecraft silent, my time machine that traveled to a perfect world, the fact of attention and tranquility. I wrote in an attempt to fix the world and bring it to me. The leaves of the book were so full of words that when I turned page paper crack
Chapter 6 - Women and trouble
elements or simply people who do not know each other well in our heads become more interesting, what we want them to be. Like the people you meet at the traffic light: after we smile, the light turns green and starts. You get the feeling that what we were looking for years.
Chapter 7 - A night at the emergency room or
Old age is a place where memories live. So when you're young, live in beautiful creandotene
Chapter 8 - Who knows where you
The plane landed. One thing that people do not understand is the speed with which rises when the plane stops. The doors are still closed and everyone is already standing with his head bent forward, under the hat, in an absolutely uncomfortable. It happens even on domestic flights an hour. Sometimes I took the Milan-Rome for work, before leaving I heard many men talk on the phone numbers, budget, cuts dividend, raise product, partner and so on. Remained in the cell until the last second because they were all very important. If we were sitting next to a woman often say things like: Without me nothing is done, if I say no is no .. I, with a backpack and shirt, I felt like a useless man in front of those professionals. Some have even missed lunch, I sensed from their breath. Then the plane landed and then they all turned on the phone, standing up suddenly and with her head bent forward, uncomfortable as birds of prey. In that posture all their intelligence. Then, standing in the hallway, we apologize, leave, to retrieve the bags. And again still. Then he waited on the bus, standing packed like sardines in a can, the last passenger on the aircraft, remained seated until the end and did everything in three seconds and he got up, took the bag and went down. Going last on the bus was also the first out of the terminal. Move even large capital but their brains out by the numbers, does not exist.
[..]
Get is the equivalent of the Smurfs to the Smurfs. It always works.
[..]
corner of the street from my hotel [Editor's Note in New York] I met Alfred, a homeless man, had written on a card: "A dollar for a joke." I gave him a dollar. I was told once, but I have not understood
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