I anticipate that this review will go into the human cases, better this way, there's more interesting people there.
They told me: don't watch Big Brother, watch Zeitgeist.
They told me: you have to be rock and roll, don't do this, don't wear that shirt, smoke, take, kick, don't watch "Vacanze di Natale," watch Fellini, don't play the sax, play a Stratocaster, use the word "Fucking" as a filler; that fucking Luca with his fucking girlfriend in that fucking bar.
They told me: don't sleep, take some Lexotan and play on the PlayStation, don't get a driver's license, have someone pick you up, don't buy CDs, only vinyls, don't read Saviano, read Bukowski, don't do too well in school, but not too poorly either, don't believe in school institutions, educate yourself, don't believe in the church, believe in yourself.
The losers watch X-Factor, MTV, and things like that, you turn off the TV and take a picture of the cloudy sky, do you know Throbbing Gristle? Or Einstürzende Neubauten? So many difficult names.
They told me many things... the voices in my head told me many things, but I reliably listened to this song and promised myself I’d think about everything else later, after all, in a minute and 50 they’ll come back to haunt me. Let's hurry.
Could the most unreliable goofballs on this earth ever pull themselves together? The answer is obvious: absolutely not.
If it were a dish? Macaroni gratin with taleggio and curry, to be served with a still red, perhaps from Calabria.
"Today, having discovered it with a slight delay of twenty-seven years...some things ‘move’ me, perhaps because I know it’s the same age as my marriage."
"As soon as it’s over, I get up from my seat, open the window to the astonishment of the other travelers, lean out, and let out a scream, which I didn’t know I had inside me."