Neither saints nor heroes. 
So? Do not tell me you do not like the Olympus. After all that time to bite and tear to get there, come on. I know, there should be a coat of paint everywhere, there are cracks in every corner, the fountains are rusty and the only good things of the statues are the tits. But anyhow, this is what is left of them, better have it enough. Understand now why I'm here sitting on the front with the usual face ass that I have been given and spend time doing the presumptuous? Sure, it's hard to digest, colored lights are always more attractive to a decrepit mausoleum, but also the end. Why would someone keeps asking me what the fuck in my head I photographed ruined things, things that no one wants to see. And 'the answer, nobody will ever say that maybe things are just that, but I know it. Everyone knows, all those who have reached the Hall, those who occasionally give his back, saying - Come on come on, everything is ok, I have what I need, I would not be anyone but me - and meanwhile something creaks because car has a dent, the wife always sleeps behind, her teenage daughter sends photos to his companions in bra in exchange for a Mobile. And 'bad having to do with the bad, but there comes a time when we must come to terms, there comes a time when we realize that we are always playing a game in which the rules are dictated by who wins in its use and consumption in order to win more and more. Meanwhile, the wounds are hidden behind in the darkness, become infected and begin to rot, peel the walls, the lights to fill with dust. This was a year during which I have given more than I could afford to give, in all things. At least once in their life to happen to all the dogs smell the loose soil behind them and then begin to correre più veloci che possono perchè se qualcosa non sta entrando dentro la terra, significa che ne sta uscendo. Forse tu credi di avere il mondo in pugno, forse credi che arriverà il momento in cui guarderai in basso e vedrai tutto da un
Olimpo di luci abbaglianti e inebrianti, forse stai aspettando il momento in cui dalle fontane uscirà vino di Syrah. Sicuramente sarà così, ma ti auguro di accorgertene, quando la terra dietro di te inizierà a smuoversi.
So? Do not tell me you do not like the Olympus. After all that time to bite and tear to get there, come on. I know, there should be a coat of paint everywhere, there are cracks in every corner, the fountains are rusty and the only good things of the statues are the tits. But anyhow, this is what is left of them, better have it enough. Understand now why I'm here sitting on the front with the usual face ass that I have been given and spend time doing the presumptuous? Sure, it's hard to digest, colored lights are always more attractive to a decrepit mausoleum, but also the end. Why would someone keeps asking me what the fuck in my head I photographed ruined things, things that no one wants to see. And 'the answer, nobody will ever say that maybe things are just that, but I know it. Everyone knows, all those who have reached the Hall, those who occasionally give his back, saying - Come on come on, everything is ok, I have what I need, I would not be anyone but me - and meanwhile something creaks because car has a dent, the wife always sleeps behind, her teenage daughter sends photos to his companions in bra in exchange for a Mobile. And 'bad having to do with the bad, but there comes a time when we must come to terms, there comes a time when we realize that we are always playing a game in which the rules are dictated by who wins in its use and consumption in order to win more and more. Meanwhile, the wounds are hidden behind in the darkness, become infected and begin to rot, peel the walls, the lights to fill with dust. This was a year during which I have given more than I could afford to give, in all things. At least once in their life to happen to all the dogs smell the loose soil behind them and then begin to correre più veloci che possono perchè se qualcosa non sta entrando dentro la terra, significa che ne sta uscendo. Forse tu credi di avere il mondo in pugno, forse credi che arriverà il momento in cui guarderai in basso e vedrai tutto da un 
Olimpo di luci abbaglianti e inebrianti, forse stai aspettando il momento in cui dalle fontane uscirà vino di Syrah. Sicuramente sarà così, ma ti auguro di accorgertene, quando la terra dietro di te inizierà a smuoversi. 
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