"wasted words" Never Again ...
I was rummaging through the drawers of my desk and I found all my school diaries.
Smemo watched those old ruins, a little faded, the listless eagerly, trying to remember everything I could about class assignments, trips and dedications.
names that have disappeared from my life, people who gave me a smile more than a little gray in those rooms that were my classes in middle and high school.
I thought of that strange sensation that school.
These days a lot of guys back in the stalls, yet I end up in an office against all my expectations and I regret those bygone days at Steiner Street Montgenevre.
regret the past lessons to laugh and make up figures are impossible with Boscolo, those cartoons ever made, those games sketched and all the laughs. I miss school trips, regret satisfaction to cut the first time to go to the bar with a friend.
I did not think I would have never missed school, I did not believe to be the guy. But, these days a little cold in September melancholy comes over me.
Then back to browse these journals, search the back pages and find them. The bullshit, what I liked to call "wasted words", in other words the errors of the prof, the jokes of his companions. And I laugh at heart, I laugh rereading the stupid things he could say the Tuscan, the crap that shot Figus, the beats of Dipy, grammatical errors, impossible questions, and so on.
remember and I'm glad I was there, between those banks, with those people that maybe I was not always appreciated, maybe I was not always understood, but that made me laugh then and managed to make me laugh dinuovo in a cold night of September ...
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