days ago, when I watched a bus line AMAT 230, which sank off the coast of snorting Carini I realized that I had it all wrong. I left the bag a few feet behind me and the bags with rice and lentils and sat on the beach. The water came in through the windows and the car gurgled wearily while the afternoon sun grew more tenuous horizon. WE ALL WRONG. I thought. Affinity groups, the expropriations by the notaries, to me, direct action, everything for which I fought and fought when I was 16 years. If you really stateless society, without laws, without power, and this, for what I gave you life? The joy army. No, and joy, and boredom. Because now here is really the uprising and the people fled. The spontaneity has no meaning, win gerrachizzati groups. Now look at the water that surrounds the bus, coming in the rearview mirror of the driver, the sun is disappearing. Just as death is in me the joy army. I should go home to my life no more middle class, I hated that I used as a pretext for secret meetings without my husband suspected nothing, and then a kiss in the morning and work. Told him that they were union meetings, but he did not know, poor Luke! 9 years together and even have a clue who I am really. The bus is gone and the sun. I begin to feel cold. Pull up the collar of the blouse and collect the bags with rice and lentils. I get home. Tonight I am going to love Luke, I shall hold me until the end. I want to change have already changed, will change even more. I'll make a child become a normal person, perhaps in a few years to tell all and he will understand. Nottte breath and know the algae.
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