Dear Zisha,
do not know if you remember me. It's me, genius & talent. Your blog. Tomorrow is my birthday. Yes, I celebrate a year, but it seems that you do not care at all. Now I'm here, alone, for months. Do not you have made me a Christmas card, nor those for the new year. You have not taken care of me. Do not you care, maybe? Your life is so full of commitments do not allow you to tell me something, running the risk of losing others? Or is it the opposite? Do you have a life so empty that they have nothing to say? Talk to me. Trust. Tell me something. Tell me about the movie you saw, or what comic I ever read. Tell me about what excites you, please. I can not live this way, only with a few passing distracted looking at me disinterested, or someone who comes to see me trying to find some kind of chips greasy or other crap, and instead found me. I smile. I try to show what I have, the things I know, I owe you. I try to tell him about Old Boy, or Closer, but he is not interested. It goes away, leaving me alone in the hope that sooner or later you come back. Please. Come back to me. I miss you.
with desperate love,
http://genius-talent.splinder.com
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Beloved,
I know well that tomorrow is your birthday. I still remember perfectly the emotion of your birth when you constantly monitor, and told you everything I could to make you grow well, strong and healthy. And remember, alas, even when, months ago, I told you some things that I had been totally alienated from the world. I had been away from you, and much more. It was a long time since I did not care about you. Yet I got rid of the drugs for a long time that I had overlooked. I went back to business as usual, with friends, cinema, wine, and as usual much fancazzismo. It 'been a while, here, when I did not give weight to anything, got shit in an existential indifference I was driving a fake peace and full of dissatisfaction and future failure. With the start of the new year, I promised myself to limit myself to stop there, to do things just because they were there to be made, to see people just because this is what they wanted. I promised myself to create me a scale, a scale of values. But I have not yet done so, as you can well imagine. Best wishes for Christmas, I have spent with friends new and old. I have played Cyberpunk. Best wishes for New Year, I have spent with friends new and old. In Barcelona. I enjoyed it. My life is not full of commitments, at least not so many as to prevent switching to get a greeting from time to time, not enough to stop me to tell you something. Nor is empty, or at least not any more. Maybe it was, for a few months. But now I'm back to normal life, between Bologna and Ferrara, experience strange and absurd speeches, friends and acquaintances, including many comic books and very little study. Already, the study, the same old problem. The depression study now on time in exam period, when I realize that oh! I did not do a shit and there are only twenty days to a major test. Although it is returned to a life normal, I feel like shit now, rather than the time when I just to exist. More than anything because now I have full knowledge of what actually feel like shit, but first I had no idea. And even if I had, I would not have cared. So now things are moving forward in the usual way, with the only complication that the study should be totally absorbed, but he tries and fails. I try, and I can not. I will try to save your ass all'ulltimo minutes as usual, do not worry. In the meantime, I promise that I will find you, really. There are some things I should tell you. Even if I do not really want, really. No, do not get me wrong, not that I do not want to tell you in particular, I do not want to reconstruct the facts in my mind for his own decision. There is a "do not disturb." Laziness, sloth. I am releasing, but have not yet gone completely. So forgive me if you do not tell the last Dylan Dog, or the last movie I saw. I will, sooner or later, but it's not yet time.
Take care,
Zisha.
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