tomorrow for a start I will not know which way to turn. These days will be finished in excellent company in the charming Trieste. I knew that party. tomorrow it will all point to a head. Tomorrow I go home to my father and you do not know how much I weigh, I will start eating at his table bread and shame. will last two days. or years, this shame. tomorrow I'll start working on my new songs convinced that yes, it makes sense in the end what I do. even if it is little, very little. and very few people, and it is better If I am silent. tomorrow I'll start drinking to get drunk with wine. (At least what some people do not complain) and vomit in the homes of friends innocent. tomorrow will again be forced to invent excuses to cover far-fetched. faithful companions, and Verecondo. also good excuse, for that matter, to understand me. tomorrow I'll start to consider the dog to cuddle the highest form of affection that I never will be up, we are sure. is always better than not see you. tomorrow I dwell on the computer hoping that something will suddenly happen. I'll find my way. tomorrow I'll start to wonder if there is life on Mars, I told you. and in my bed? tomorrow I'll start to put my expectations in the hands of any shit, and watch is not a heroic battle: it was pathetic, would be something - is insignificant, however, and pulciosa. tomorrow will distribute flags to the children against malaria, injustice and poverty, to be faithful to indifference, from tomorrow I will finish with the PD of the primaries, with Saviano who wants to play the role of Pasolini (even pretend to have been the high school with him, if he could - but do not worry, sooner or later will put teeth), with the policy: back to play with toy soldiers, rather. statevene for you. Tomorrow I will be a good time if a girl (also a minor, yes, even a minor) wants to give it away for five thousand euro is lucky of poor people who need to do it for love, which is a feeling that takes away much more contemptible than it gives in the final. Sorry for the rant. tomorrow will plant flags on the map again, listen to music, from tomorrow I will come back in my room wondering what the point of this battle that we fight all the first day of life, from tomorrow I will not know which way to turn. I will continue to write for trespass. tomorrow I'll go to church, so I'm trying all the Pascal would agree. I am happy to shake hands and I would say welcome aboard. I'll try that tomorrow, someone save my life, again and again, minute by minute. at least when I drank. tomorrow "happiness" will be a giant billboard in my front door that read, in huge letters: "sold out". if I'm lucky, it will indicate with his finger.
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