Yes, I was away a lot, but I did not know what to write, I had too much to live for so it can be put down, as if nothing had happened ... I was busy that my life was literally revolutionizing to be able to think up and write. I had to change my life, the birth of love, discovery / rediscovery of a sincere friendship, the loss of my job, the slow decline and recovery of my health, the downsizing of many aspects of my life, the approach and the succession of people, situations, words, laughter, tears, fists clenched and eyes wide open ... I had and I have to live.
From my new home, I write tonight from my new life, to remember and forget, to find order in my chaos, to reach the conclusion that, after all, exactly what I discovered as I fell and I found the balance I must not seek or create, simply because ... There. Alone. And he knows perfectly maintained without my intervention.
The thunder in the distance keep me company and, in some ways, I was inspired to start writing again, tonight, this was almost the only possible soundtrack to push to do so. I write just before leaving again for that short or long trip that will take me to leave unnecessary ballast to where I had taken, that will clarify anything, but that will be decisive in its own way.
I have much to say and many ways to say, I have much to give and one way to do it.
What I am, what I have inside, which leaves a trace in my life I can not always write it: I can only only sing. Singing like a distant thunder that accompanies all those melodies that are familiar to everyone, but nobody can translate into voice. The
blogghetto of Paoletta 
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