are twenty-three days I get up with the same intention not to exist for as long as possible, at least until they encounter the usual image of myself somewhere working on and to show our alter ego. The morning rituals and consolidated to make sure he does not exist on the regional and national news, not decide anything new, anything thoroughly tested alternative to the usual pattern. I would not even turn on the phone. If someone had written, what I know, three in the morning? If someone had looked in total darkness to shed light on some of my failure, emotional / behavioral? DISASTER! For now, it did not happen and I pray every day that not happen until at least March 9, significant milestone for me personally and for the desire of non-existence, oblivion, fall on deaf ears. The cell phone I always end up turning it on because he is black, flat, monolithic, prehistoric. I turn it on and reassured me, I feel a constant and potentially orgasmic thrill, fear of surprise disappears subject to the operation (or not) of Vodafone and the will of another server. Flat, everything is flat and then choose the first evidence for the existence of that day still let it go if nothing had happened, in the end I can not withdraw, because I can not reach Dunquerke philosophy (or life) is worse than Hitler, is ruthless, annihilates me. I put the CCCP Fedeli alla Linea, Giovanni Lindo Ferretti barks a social center in Berlin, a social center where they do not pay the rent and Mercedes sedans are used as ornamental totems. PRODUCES PRODUCES CONSUMER CONSUMER CRACK CRACK ... Yes Wake and sleep does not exist, say the new Ferretti, give me reason, I know, I would leave for Cerreto Alpi instantly but I can again make a choice like that, shocking, pure signature existence. Leave me alone, leave me alone, I want it in my car to guide me, you know where to go, you know what to do. The trip is short, as short as a coitus interrupted by the mother who asks you if you're hungry at three in the afternoon, fuck I'm not hungry I just ate, shit I tell you, one step and another and touch the planet earth. Not bad and no one seems to notice, nobody looking for me, no one touches me. They are still non-existent and life, while living, breathing, breathing heavily and nobody looks at me, me cover the music, the music covers my breath, I do not feel, fall into the abyss of no longer, I'm fine, I'm fine I say, the chasm is more comfortable in my leather sofa yellow, the chasm is echoing my cries (of joy) THERE JOHN! NOT EXIST! Before I hang up with the usual sermon leave him and listen to the silence that is here, the silence of our lives that are as thin as the steps on the floor still wet, leaving lives lost in the daily rumble of the 'ought to be. I do not exist does not exist.
down from the pedestal and look at my picture drawn on a window, and there are a comic, do not exist, are not for sale and therefore do not exist, are out of the market cosmic comics. The showcase has a history more interesting than mine, but I want to tell it not to listen. The last test before the end, I want to know inspector, I want evidence of my absence, I want the ultimate and decisive test before awakening. I make ten steps, maybe eleven, I turn around and find them there, headlines, smiling, chrome, tired from the cold. The headlines of Reggio Emilia are repeated with a reassuring platitudes but the important thing, the really important thing in this whole story is that my name is not there. I did not do damage, I have not suffered anything unpleasant, I did not act, I said, I do not have a personal statement about myself and my situation of non-existence PENALIZING homeless because I do not need. Everything flows and what I like, I flow with the river, by the eel and trout that once inhabited the beds of streams, leaving my body to the cold force of nature, to travel back in history to break away from that seems to need me.
"Hello"
In fifteen hours and thirty minutes I will come back to life.
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