Best Portable Reflector Telescope

Will Alcohol Pulmonary Hypertension Worse

Barzelletta!

Quando la realtà is more fun than a joke! Published in the Journal of Vicenza, 10 October 2006. Listen to this passage, "... in the hospital, where they were many, out of respect for the wound to hold back laughter. The unfortunate old woman had made, quite literally, a foot wrong. Indeed, the foul. That piece of round plastic, was nothing but a male member of that used for rough erotic games .....".

And, as usual, add a joke to serious news.

Have you ever visited the site www.geneanet.org ?

One of the best sites as far as the genealogy world.

The Italian blog http://attualita.geneanet.org/

is well cared for by a friend of mine.

I am getting from different people to a location where it is shown that the dangers of cell phones cook an egg placed between two devices in communication with each other.

This is a hoax documented here:

http://attivissimo.blogspot.com/2006/07/antibufala-cellulari-cuociuova.html

I'm not really say that cell phones are not harmful, but there is no need to spread false news to support their dangerousness.

Greetings

Toni

www.tonicopi.it

I Have Red Undertones In My Skin What Race Am I

Alessia

Alessia, my niece is coming to the end of his second year of life!

What a show this girl, and how he speaks!

public here is not a phrase with which I entirely agree:

"Language: well, it's a good thing when it is not that of a woman" (Charles Dickens)

did not know this aspect of male-Dickens.

But I love listening to female voices. I love listening to Alessia.

Every day a new conquest: he called me yesterday to proudly show me the crap he had just done for the first time in the potty! But how is strange life. At least a couple of years to break free from the diaper to the bodily needs. Then all his life to return to self, this is often the end we do, to put it, perhaps for years, first burst of ...

Public a sweet picture. Look at the tenderness with which she caresses the baby's downy mustache, in contrast to the softness of her hair. Notice the grooves on my face, as opposed to the smoothness of its forms.

holder I could picture this "the old and the child."

fact I put here the final homonym of the master Guccini song:

And the old man said, looking away, `` Imagine this
covered with wheat, fruits
Imagine, imagine the flowers
And think of the voices and think about the colors.
And this plain as far as you lose
the trees grow and everything was green, the rain was falling
, marked only
The pace of man and the seasons.''
The child stood, her eyes were sad, and his eyes stared
things never seen before,
And then he said to the old man with a dreamy voice
`` I love all the fairy tales , raccontane other.''

Artificial Lens Waiver

I made the appropriate checks and it is a real appeal.

www.proroberto.it the site you will find all the news, including daily update on the bids received.

power of the medium: in less than a month collected more than half the amount needed!

Il bimbo parte domani per gli Stati Uniti con concrete speranze di poter guarire.

Saluti
Toni
Aggiornamento al 10 ottobre 2006 : il comitato di sostegno a Roberto comunica di aver raggiunto ed ampiamente superato la cifra necessaria stimata in 800.000 euro, avendo raccolto fino alle ore 16 di oggi la ragguardevole cifra di oltre 1.313.041 euro. Si invita pertanto a sospendere le iniziative di solidarietà.

What Soap Should I Use On Piercings

2 agosto - FESTA DEGLI UOMINI

Il due di agosto si festeggiano gli uomini.
Poichè in questa data, nel lontano 1952, sono nato io, I help to spread the word, still unknown to many. This is the explanation that gives Wikipedia:
"On August 2 in many areas of the Alps is the celebration of men. Or at least their genitals and then, by extension of the period, including those who carry them around . Reliable sources give the party branch of Napoleon, when the soldiers were wearing skintight leggings, for reasons of visual order, place the "jewels" on the left - les deux à gauche (the two left). The huge ironic wisdom did the rest and it all became août les deux ....( August 2). "
And here are a couple of countries where they are celebrating:

Wednesday, August 2, 2006

NIMIS A panel of women will vote the most beautiful. Tricesimo festival also offers a goliardic

Back the transgressive feast of men

Nimis (pt) Appointment to the streets and in Tricesimo Nimis heights of this evening for the traditional annual event with the party of men. A Monteprato the country fair has already started on the evening of i ri live music and opening of the stands with typical products of the event: from the testis, the bread its characteristic shape memory propitiatory to gadgets such as towels, pots and T-shirts. A steal, as always, advertising posters which are now collectors' items and had to request an additional printing. The program provides for this evening, from 21, not only musical entertainment with the dirty half-dozen. Follows, at 23, the election Mister August 2 this year also became world champion. A catwalk, in fact, some years are also many immigrants, young and old, returned to spend the holidays in Friuli. A jury will decide the winner of the women-only some of which, around midnight, dress clothes for the torchlight procession of vestal virgins sexy-comic. In the victory symbol of the festival which will be accompanied and then placed in the pagoda in the forest. The origin of the event, which also promotes local products, including wines, dating back over 25 years ago when a group of people in the country decided to celebrate the man. Promoted by the cultural and sporting Karnizze, on the height each year attracts thousands of people despite the difficulties in reaching the mountain village due to the intense traffic on the access road. More recent, but already also well known men of the party Tricesimo that this year reaches its seventh edition with the proposal for active participation of women as well. A parade, in fact, in Piazza Garibaldi, are girls and women for the international competition Bugnigolo gold. Pircing for grabs gold and silver, but also a tribute to all the participants who were 38 last year, applauded by an audience of over a thousand people. A joyful and organize the party's association with the philanthropic vrie which is owned by four friends tricesimani: Aldo Romano, Mariano and Graziano. The appointment is for 20 with wine and food kiosk open and free. In closing cake cutting and delivery of auspicious form a very special bouquet to the first classified. Will be present for the ceremony, a representative of the municipal council.

province Wednesday, August 2, 2006 Page 23

Altavilla. Source Napoleonic spettacolino final adult male

Party ... with beans

the Feast of the men are back and the pot allusive

(af) When the wife is on vacation ... males Altavilla celebrate. The traditional festival of the men "back into the limelight tonight, with a menu of culinary entertainment e conviviali “studiati” appositamente per l’occasione.
Arrivata alla quindicesima edizione, la manifestazione - nata come una cena fra amici maschi - oggi è stata sdoganata anche al gentil sesso.
Fonti storiche attendibili danno la festa di origine francese, e per l’esattezza di epoca napoleonica quando i soldati dell’imperatore indossando pantaloni attillatissimi - i fuseaux - erano costretti a sistemare, per regola, alcune parti del proprio corpo al lato sinistro. Di qui è nato il termine les deux à gauche , “i due a sinistra”. La saggezza popolare, come sempre ironica ed impietosa, ha fatto il resto e la frase divenne nel giro di poco les deux aout , August 2, precisely on the feast of Altavilla.
"You can say that our dinner was born, jokingly, as opposed to 8 March - Caderbe says David, one of the organizers -. But actually Alps 2 August is traditionally the party of men. No coincidence that our menu reflects ironically the pride of the male. In fact, the dish that will accompany the chicken stew, beans will be "in počet". "
"Over the years, from a simple meeting place for male friends, this holiday has become a festival, however, open to all - continues the organizer -. And as a manifestation of the country there will be an orchestra that will allow dancing until late at night. "
But let's not forget that the festival was born Aug. 2 to celebrate the men. So at 22.30 a surprise: a show appropriate for the occasion will rub the eyes of the male participants. And not to sleep.
Moms, re take home your children ...

Double Curtain Track Ceiling Mounted

Calcio

I do not understand much about football.

Of course the outcome of the world has really enjoyed it.

Before the well-deserved victory by the Germans.

Then she, slim and obtained with a bit of luck (but without a bit of ass

niente si otterrebbe dalla vita), con i francesi!

Sconfitto un popolo che crede di avere i migliori vini, i migliori formaggi

nonché la migliore cucina del mondo, solo perché chiamano la frittata omelette...
Pubblico, perciò, con sommo gusto, l'allegata immagine,

che ben rappresenta la vera arte in cui noi italiani davvero eccelliamo!

Growing Chamomile In Seattle

Petizione per l'abolizione dei costi di ricarica dei cellulari

Aggiornamento al 3 febbraio 2007: ieri 2 febbraio è entrato in vigore il decreto Bersani sulle liberalizzazioni. Abolito il costo di ricarica del cellulare e abolita anche la scadenza delle ricariche.

Circola freneticamente un appello che invita a firmare una petizione al fine di sollecitare le autorità della comunità europea ad intervenire per l'abolizione dei costi di ricarica dei cellulari.
Tale appello è stato fatto proprio da Beppe Grillo che lo ha rilanciato nel suo blog.
Io ho firmato la petizione, che male non fa. Tuttavia segnalo l'esistenza di macroscopici errori nei quali è incorso persino Beppe Grillo dove afferma che al raggiungimento di 50.000 firme sarà abolito il costo di ricarica. Le firme sono ad oggi oltre 250.000...
Sono poi emersi diversi dubbi sull'attendibilità del creatore della petizione.
Il tutto per dire che le cose non sono poi così semplici as are presented in the appeal.
France has no up charges, but with rechargeable phone costs much more than here. I put the link below in my view, essential to deepen.

talked about it as usual with expert Paul Attivissimo

http://attivissimo.blogspot.com/2006/05/petizione-costi-di-ricarica.html

This piece of Grillo

http://www.beppegrillo.it/2006/05/innovazione_mangiasoldi.html

About the petitioner

http://www.aboliamoli.eu

To sign the petition

http://www.petitiononline.com/costidir/petition.html

Men's Clogs For Wide Feet

Post di prova

I'm back after almost two years from creation.
Let's see if I can still remember how to post!
Ciaoooooooooo
Toni

Negozi Online Tech Deck Ita

Padre Pio

Mentre Oscar mani di fata promette to grant favors to all those present when the robbery tomorrow morning should be successful, Mauritius, Livorno compound and a gentleman with white hair, he laughs when booking a place at a restaurant in this case. He also lives on the street for some time. Since he sold all his possessions in order to treat the child in a private clinic in Houston. His son was suffering from a particularly serious form of leukemia, contracted after having attended a military mission in Bosnia. The gentleman in question had, at that time, a lot of knowledge in politics and national DS Tuscany, having been assessor town of Pisa. A senior official of the Tuscany region promised on behalf of the office he held and the long friendship that bound them that the Region would pay the costs of treatment. He did not need to repeat twice, sold all their belongings and houses to operate the child in the U.S. The operation failed and after a few months back in Italy. When he came to the headquarters of the region in Florence, he was consigned by the same a sealed envelope containing a check. With tears in his eyes thanked her anyway so the friend who had worked hard for him. They were hot tears were tears of a father who had sold everything to save her son, and now with that money could play a second card, to keep alive the hope. Did not open the envelope until he arrived at the hotel. Sitting on the bed planted on the eyes of the amount of zero, a spasm passed over the body muscles, clenched his teeth bite to break up the blood in the eye and ran back to that infamous beauty that had paid the equivalent of round-trip ticket by plane to a person from Florence to Houston. He would have killed him if they had not stopped in time. That envelope was an injury, a stab in the back of a man who was powerless, stripped of everything, waiting to see her son die.


He moved to Rome shortly after, to follow the child hospitalized. After his last savings and knew the road to despair. Then the first trades. Selling on behalf of other statues of saints and rosaries in St. Peter's Square the day of the canonization of the saints. The business began to go well, there were the millions, could settle. He decided to risk it. He invested everything he had earned in a year for a final banquet. It was the day of the beatification of Padre Pio. He bought all kinds of things. Rosaries, necklaces, medals, bracelets, gold, silver, figurines. At nine o'clock in the morning had already sold almost everything. The crowd ate its products, had a pocket full of thick bundles of notes cent. He could not keep up with all the hands that pulled him from side to side asking price, has an envelope? Rossi finished? How many carats? Keep the change. It gives me another twenty. No thanks, just silver. The played a couple of times the phone, he saw who was his partner to call him and stood silent to avoid wasting time with customers, "after the recall," he thought. At the third call he asked if there was no need to hear what was happening. The thought immediately ran to his son still in hospital, perhaps a serious relapse. But at that very moment, looking up, holding the cell phone kept ringing, saw him make his way straight ahead, the crowd, a patrol of officers who were advancing towards his resolute stand. Helpless, he sent down a little 'saliva, relaxed facial expression in a paralysis and dropped his arms and mobile phone.

The company had tried to warn him, saying he wanted to close the everything and leave immediately, the finance was coming. She had seen him on television from home. The cameras all over the world had stopped on his makeshift stall and the chaos that revolves around, cried foul against speculation on the cult of saints. The financiers could not fail to intervene in world vision. They seized everything. He had more than one hundred million in cash in his pockets. He confessed that they were saying all proceeds from sales and so seize them to him along with all the goods. He had no license to sell the stuff. The pockets were empty again. A few weeks after his son died. Since then continues to wander around Rome. Every so often you still interested in politics, reads a lot in the newspapers. Starter to work in a bar, after many months of utter bewilderment. I make him my best wishes.

I ask if he has seen others, Gigi, Giancarlo and Caramel. I say no. Two days are not seen around, seem to have found accommodation in a hostel a bit 'in the suburbs. Not much is known more or you want to know, removed, it seems that we are talking about three strangers. The road is too. Has no memory, is a dead name, overnight rewrites his steps and those who do not change the address traces, except in the memories of a few.
I was back to the first track to say hello, I have not found anyone.

[From "Rome homeless", January 15 2005]

Read " Rome city seen from behind "

Invitation For Garment Sale

Hands fairy

I'm back in Rome this afternoon, I write from a hostel in Rome, are in a room lit by green lights, walls of lime stone, brown wooden tables, as well as the chairs, on the bar a row of colored bottles of spirits, beer and light bulbs, one red and one orange stripe. Under the green lights there is a large rectangular mirror to fill the wall. This afternoon I went back to the Termini station to the first track. That's weird. Walk the streets and live are two things light years away. Everything appears in a different light. You're in a hurry, you have an appointment, the mind ahead of the curve racing, anticipating the body in steps, focusing on the post, what to do and what to say, and you lose all around and the mean time. Then you stop for a second and remember the days spent out of curiosity. Then open your eyes light up with curiosity and then swarming with lives, bodies and looks that are around chasing each other without even knowing it.

Portraits. Oscar worked as a thief. It has stains on his fingers. When he was in jail the doctor has diagnosed an allergy to dust the walls of the cell. "That tells me 'You have your hands the most delicate I've ever seen.' And I said, 'You should think so, Dr, I am a thief by trade, I know that some' sensitive '." It begins to sing the praises of his fingers long and slender, with your fingertips slightly flat, which enables a better grip. It can extract the portfolio without the victim being aware of his fingers digging into his pocket. Tell us happy and proud of its achievements, the makeup of the needle with the old lady, the risks run every time. A hit gone wrong for so little, a friend, shoulder, made of Rivotril, he started to sing as he did the sfilamano for the little pecks the madam.
Now hopefully only in a nice wallet, then stop. Then he lets slip that the proposed work, great stuff. Speak softly, looking around. He earns well. Is assessing the risks, he comes from a mafia family. One hour of work for fifty thousand euro. It must also involve his wife, Tiziana, the decision by tomorrow morning. If the shot goes well, tomorrow we should all eat at the restaurant, it offers him.

[From "Rome homeless", January 15, 2005]

also read " Rome city seen from behind "

Football Helmet Halloween

Treehouse

put to sleep yesterday. On the iron grate under the covered entrance of the building in Via Marsala, on top of the staircase of white and brown travertine and scraps of cardboard trampled by water. At first, I fear, for the first time I admit. Below items are many of us to sleep, at least twenty. When I get close to that of men carpet is just past midnight, the others are lying down for hours. Every step I take I bit my lip and clench their fists into the pockets of his jacket icy.

The night before there was a problem on the first track. The station remained open because of the thousands of people waiting for a train to Termini to return home after the festivities last year. Since the station did not close, Giancarlo took the opportunity to spend the night with Gigi, Caramel and Paul, along the first track. For a week sleeping in a shelter, but requested a permit. That night I slept under a ladder in the studio Cinecittà, where I went to hear the concert of the year-end sound system of the South. Giancarlo woke in the night I felt a hand that first drew out his wallet. As he turned he saw a young man, an African, who has now withdrawn his hand wondering if he had a cigarette. Giancarlo not which has the most watched, he jumped to his feet and sent him against the wall with a shove. Meanwhile it has also awakened Gigi, which promptly reached Giancarlo. They have surrounded the thief and the sound of pushing slammed against a car of a train stopped on the track, promising him a lesson. Except that even after Paul got up and approached the boy with the knife pointed at him. At that point the scene was reversed. Gigi and Giancarlo have tried to calm Paul, shouting at the unfortunate escape and do it quickly. Eventually everything was back. The robber fled, Paul calmed down and gave his knife into the custody of Gigi for safety. Given his condition since he takes all that Rivotril better not to have weapons at hand.

asleep at the post office a group of ten Africans, I fear that among them there is also the thief of the night before. If so I would definitely problems, since I am white, Italian, and a friend of Gigi, Paolo and Giancarlo. I would not want someone with me if the remake. As I approach my bed tonight I am surprised to see that Africans are just not there, or I will see them the next morning. Sleeping next to me rather a woman, alone, black. Strange. It is not facile vedere una donna sola per strada, per di più in mezzo ad un folto gruppo di uomini sconosciuti. É giovane, avrà sì e no trent'anni, alta, robusta. Trema tutta la notte, non ha una coperta, dorme sotto un grande cartone. Al mattino se ne va battendo i denti e senza dire una sola parola a nessuno. Io ripiego il sacco a pelo e mi avvio alla stazione in cerca di un treno, oggi torno a casa.

[ Tratto da " Roma senza fissa dimora ", 2 gennaio 2005]

Leggi " Roma città vista di spalle "

Christian Dance Groups

year that will

In strada capodanno dura una manciata di minuti e finisce dopo pochi panini. Ci si ricorda che è san Silvestro perchè alla stazione Termini arrivata un'ondata di piena, una fiumana di persone arrivate nella capitale per festeggiare. E poi la sera del trentuno passano almeno quattro ronde di volontari con i panini, il thè caldo e qualcuno addirittura con lo spumante. Dal giorno dopo si ritorna sui passi stanchi con cui era finito l'anno prima.

Il primo siamo a cena in via Dandolo, alla Comunità di Sant'Egidio, io, Paolo, Gigi e Giancarlo. A Sant'Egidio si mangia bene e ci si sente bene, si è serviti e c'è un buon clima. Sembra davvero di essere al ristorante e c'è modo di mangiare con calma e socializzare, cosa che nelle altre mense manca decisamente. Mentre mangiamo Paolo si addormenta con la forchetta in bocca e con un gomito si rovescia un piatto di tagliatelle al ragù sui pantaloni. Lo svegliamo e ordiniamo un altro piatto chiedendo scusa e sforzandoci di tenerlo sveglio. Impresa da titani lottare contro gli effetti del Rivotril.

Si discute animatamente dell'esistenza di un'anima e della vita, dei pensieri e del tiro di dadi cui sembra giocare con cinico divertimento qualche dio minore. Strada facendo ci mettiamo a parlare con Paolo del suo problema con l'alcol. Ammette di essere alcolizzato e di non farcela a smettere. Già una volta ha provato la comunità di recupero, ma è stato solo l'ennesimo dei suoi fallimenti. Beve da molto. Gli hanno tolto i quattro figli proprio perché beveva. Lui ha reagito unicamente rincarando la dose.

C'è amicizia e sentito interesse in our words. Without telling us that we want a good friendship is essential to remove from certain problems and difficulties. If Paul, for example to attend a company of drinkers, as many see it around the street, his problem could only become worse and not be perceived as such even if not always more rare (and precious) moments of lucidity. Yesterday

also returned Paola. Arrives about ten o'clock in the evening. His face is bandaged, has just been discharged from orthopedics. Broken nose. The day before yesterday, the last year, went to a party, had a fight with someone and was beaten by some bully of the pack. That's not all. Paola is back in town. He tells us tonight for the first time, with his hat in white and blue cap. Turn up your nose. The first child had already removed him, the same fate awaits the unborn child. The father has already been set back, like fog in the morning and goes through the night to sunrise. Poor Paula. It is so good and naive, he does not know how to live, if it ever looking.

Aurelius, arrived shortly after and is in poor condition. Aurelius, known simply as the Brescia, yes and no will thirties, shoulder-length hair, brown with sunburn. And sixty feet tall, is dressed like a cowboy, boots, pointed, tight pants, brown leather jacket. It arrived in Rome a month now. Must aver combinato qualche grosso casino a Brescia, dove abitava, per trovarsi in queste condizioni e non prendere nemmeno in considerazione l'idea di tornare. É separato, non ha figli. Ha una fissa per la meditazione orientale e lo yoga, ma la sua persona è l'esatto contrario dell'armonia. É agitato, curioso, bonaccione, ingenuo e un po' pieno di sé. Stasera è inferocito. Minaccia Carmelo che gli dia subito i soldi della stecca di sigarette contrabbandate, made in Polonia, che gli ha venduto la scorsa settimana. Carmelo dice di non avere quei soldi. Aurelio urla, in mezzo al binario, afferra una bottiglia di rosso da una busta sopra la panchina e la scaraventa contro la carrozza del regionale per Firenze parcheggiato sui ferri fino a domani. Pieces of glass and wine stains fall in the footsteps of commuters in disbelief. He continues to scream. We realize that is abstinence, should get some stuff but has no money with him and can not buy it. Pushers do not give him anything because they still have to pay to borrow the old games. Snorts and continues to scream, waving his hands in the air and straightening dirty hair. At the end goes away, then goes over and disappears in quick steps. Must have stolen a wallet to someone in the meantime. After no more than thirty minutes back to us. His eyes are spiked, her mouth bent downwards and it works in slow motion. Quiet as a clam, sedated, drinking from a plastic cup, asks how we are, can not remember anything about what has happened a moment before, offering cigarettes and a bit 'of grass to each of us.

The biker is ruining. It is putting in laps older than him, can not keep up, damn it all the time. It is stuck in lots of shady drug dealing, theft and smuggling of cigarettes illegally imported from Poland and Romania. Sooner or later they do it outside, he can not do business, it is never polished to work well and indeed is convinced he can still fool everyone. With some people better not be joking. Twice in one month have beaten. It also has problems with the supervision of railways. In fact, he found a door that closes evil, right on the first track. So every night it opens in secret, forcing a bit ' the lock, and pulls in personnel departments fs with a truck load of his suitcases. It draws on the bed and sleep until morning. They have already caught more than once and called for moves to change habits, and he did not want to hear from the bell and carrying on its personal challenge to power ... The coming year looks very similar to the one just closed.

[From "Rome homeless", January 1, 2005]

also read " Rome city seen from behind "

What Could Happen In Operation

Rivotril: There are side effects

Termini Station, chatting until late. On the first track took refuge tonight a friend Carmelo, his name is Gabriel, of Latin America. A stocky man, nearly eighty-foot, polished head, shaved, disproportionately large, but maybe it's just an impression, because it is swollen with bruises and scabs and gallons of red wine. Gabriel was beaten last night, after he defended a man by a group of Romanians who wanted him on fire in a sleeping bag for a settling of scores. He got a good fear, he says, and then he got a knife. He has now bought the station from a friend. It shows a blade a foot long. He vows revenge, and as you move two fingers on the throat with a gesture of annoyance, in the eyes can be read by vigorous shaking. E 'restless.

"Tengo need to talk about co 'quacuno. If I is not mad or ripija ja'a or sack if I do ... I know there 'already passed ... if I see you yesterday, Carzone de dirty blood, shoes ... I'm in search' of certain nerves that airy, if ... explode. " Gabriel is very drunk, the evening does not count the cartons Tavernello, but is serious when he talks about his " nerves." In a lucid moment he explains how even the slightest question the causes disproportionate reactions due to abuse that of years ago by Rivotril. This is a drug-based sedation of benzodiazepines, usually prescribed to contain anxiety and cause drowsiness, but who for years sold widely and cheaply on the market delle droghe illegali della strada.

Baste leggere le istruzioni per l'uso per farsi un'idea delle controindicazioni: ad alte dosi provoca dipendenza, instabilità emotiva, sbalzi d'umore, paranoia, tendenza all'aggressività e depressione, confusione, difficoltà di movimento, amnesia, irrequietezza e stanchezza cronica, sintomi che si amplificano con l'assunzione di alcol.

La descrizione di Gabriele coincide: " Te da na sonnolenza, te fa prenne dee stranezze, te manna a rubba' te fa fa'n sacco de cose, però dato che io nun so' ladro, da quanno m'è successa a cosa mia, che m'hano levato e fijie e tutto quanto, ho comminciato a pijane tante, che nun m'abbastavano na cinquantina ar days. "Fifty Rivotril tablets a day, watered down with several liters of wine and spirits form the recipe of a desperate story, of a past that does not pass and a future that does not know how to get there." Quanno and take no you're more, is not your own person. What happens is that you change in brain ar quarche thing. I feel that a lot ggente Prenn, this breaks, cracks that other breaks to the right, break left. Why is this thing so ggente the manna in steals', so the manna ggente to kill ', is shown so that thieves like what na n de kilo cocaine, should I worry ... presempio because nun so' thief, I worked in nu stabbilimento homeopathic medicines pe '12 years. But by quanno I 'niziato a pija' stuff is, I could not work, or because they rubbed me, or because it was something so ... na .

Gabriel began to consume Rivotril before being homeless, and without the two girls, entrusted by the court to an institution for minors. For years, the depression accompanied her days, family tensions were continuous and life seemed out of control. " I always bbazzicavo aa station at the beginning I took the station, the train Stano how many going away. If you are, there Stano 5 thousand if you do, not only are de Rivotril Minias all ... I heard ... Methadone is easier if, as I heard .

Buy Rivotril or other drugs on the street is not difficult, just ask the right people, in the lobby of Terminal Station, in front of the ticket, or along the 1st track. "Go to na girl n boy on, 50 cents and Piji na tablet. But those I do not know who he is, because I do not know who's honest truth I tell you, er Rubbiano stamp e'e bbianche recipes, and Rubbia and if fano and for themselves. Pijiano na n'euro and 45 to pack and where to sell for 20 euro, a box dee pills. But on the road if and only buy pills, and no recipes .

the money to buy the tablets Gabriel found them doing the opening prayer, in front of a church in Via Marsala, near the train Words, every morning, or doing illegal parking. To sell the Rivotril, the Minias or Methadone - Gabriel continues - "I know guys who sleep n the road, or pe fano earned quarche thing." Gabriel speaks only market they know, but does not exclude there being other places: "Only Terms, maybe if there is no part of antre or so. Inside the station, is very common, is what I do is for nun ' nervous probblema der de whole a great life, I know 'and that they sent me fijie raised. "

" E 'na bbrutta life that if ago - concluded Gabriel - that quanno too ask for help from anyone. flaws too - admit - I do not know 'll find Social n'assistente eg large, I was always following is a ssistente where c'aveo and daughters, children of .

[From "Rome homeless , December 29, 2004] Read

" Rome city seen from behind "

Unblock Myself From Wireless Network

Ghost


Later switches from the first track Andrew. Andreja is Polish. Krakow east. Not more than thirty-five years his. Blond, straight hair. The swollen face. Shots of red and black, scratches, scabs and bruises. suit. For several days he had started working as a valet, abusive, but still honest. the beautiful women never did pay, points out, reminded me of my wife, in their a tribute. Yesterday morning, however, the injury and insult. At 10:00, in broad daylight in the street, a group of Romanians is presented to collect the bill. That car has always been under their management and had already warned once the parking lots to do elsewhere. So they came to take justice into their own with the single law that applies to road force. A group of eight was thrown to him and he had no time even to raise his voice, he found himself on the ground to count the kicks and spitting blood on the asphalt. Now he has bought a knife along a span. Swears he learned his lesson and that next time will not stand by and watch, nor will scruple to strike.

Suddenly the anger fades from his face swollen like a dark cloud from heaven, and gives way to a tear. Andrej put the Walkman headphones and closed my eyes sings rocking springs on her legs, moves on a love song. She smiles at me, then I passed one of the two headsets. Linked by a wire and a note, I recognize Ghost, the soundtrack of the film. I too close my eyes for a moment, when I open them I see Andrew, fixed a train across the track, took his lower lip trembling, down the streams of hot tears from his eyes. Without looking at anyone tells us that when two and a half years ago his wife died he has not done more than love. Still wants her. He just wants you, but you can not make love with a woman already dead, with a woman who exists only in memories and hearts, without a body to touch it and cover it with kisses.

Andrey and the son of a Polish woman and a English Embassy official in Poland, who abandoned her shortly after her birth. Andrej was placed in Poland, had a happy life. So he says as he shows me a photo album which brings with it strict. He owned a restaurant, and lived in an apartment in Krakow with his wife and daughter. Pass me the photos. His wife was a beautiful woman, eyes a little 'tight, green, thin facial features, brown. And then the little girl, four years, a smile like portrait. That day, it's been now two and a half years, Andrey was going to Bonn, Germany, for work. He was driving when he received the phone call. Her mother told her of an incident, her voice broke into tears and sobs among the shards of said yes, his wife and daughter ... we had not done.

was a stab in the lungs, bleeding pain. Everything was lost. What was left? Hang up the phone without even tossed out the window and the blurred vision from a stream of tears, made a U-turn to return to Krakow. The first month was an ordeal. Not a word, he spent his days alone, he had become irritable and had stopped going to work. At the end of everything and sent all to hell, he escaped in Italy, perhaps to seek the protection of its national Wojtila, head of the religion in which Audrey continues to believe that perhaps the only thing that has remained ever since. Tears and knives.

[From "Rome homeless , December 28, 2004] Read

" Rome city seen from behind "

Does Insurance Cover Ambulance Ride Cost

So ... The gentle giant

Gaetano is not the only meeting in the afternoon. About six o'clock comes a new host to our first track, where they now spend my days with my three Virgili, Caramel, Gigi and Giancarlo. It 's a boy of Pescara. Marco. It just got off the train, still breathing heavily. It is not for the race, the easier for the stuff that pulled tonight to celebrate his return to freedom. Marco has escaped this morning from a community drug rehabilitation. He speaks with big gestures of the hand, is agitated and nervous, sometimes loses his eyes staring at a distant horizon, then began shaking his head his eyes from side to side, scratching.

"Oh was his first one. I had never robbed anyone before. Within the store, a grocery, c'avevo a knife, then I start to cry in movies such as 'It is a robbery' and then point the knife to the throat of an old and yell 'Stop or kill all the old', and with a nod of the head I understand that I must be committed to the 'entire collection of the day. I mean you do not then imagines 'adrenaline, before entering' me was to make the bottom, you say, was the first time, but it was too strong . "As we speak, thinking about the old lady's face hollowed by fear, a recounts the thrill, he raises his voice and shaking hands even faster. It lasted just a joke though. " leaving the shop already a patrol of police waiting for me, someone has called ." Then came the trial and punishment. Giel The judge has made to serve a sentence alternative to foster care in a community of recovery. " But as a community, the prison was better! There at least there are all those rules! . "It's about community as a military camp, strict rules and humiliating checks exasperated and how boys and girls are able to live there for months and years.

"Three times I've got tried to escape."
He always went wrong.
" The community is very isolated, so before you get to a major highway, hitch a ride where you take back to their SUVs with dogs .
order and discipline.
"Oh the end I decided to try sea. So yesterday morning I know 'started running toward the river towards the sea and we know pulled me to the beach. Then I continued to run along the beach, like a madman until I came to the city closer, ie, do not you say, just soaked .
There he took a train that slammed Rome like a wave on the sand. Intercity Wait, go back to Pescara from friends to celebrate New Year. I ask him if he knows home that was expecting the police to bring it back in, it is safe, and in prison, this time not in the community.
" Yes, it should be '. But maybe I do accommodate a friend, so while the pace of the last party with my girl, you know how we bust this year .
All this odyssey for the last year?
" Oh, sure . Oh but you do not know that it means the community, that is, do not you just wish. And then I want to ask al mio avvocato se mi può interdire, così mi tolgono la pena ".
Non solo, aggiungo io, ti tolgono la capacità di intendere e volere, con tutto quello che vuol dire. " Va be' che m'importa, a me basta di non tornare là dentro, il resto si vedrà, tanto… "
Tanto… pare che il tempo sia sospeso per alcune persone, domani è troppo lontano, e lontano sono gli altri e se stessi.
" Tanto… tanto peggio di così non può andare. Tanto… un'alternativa non c'è, tu la vedi? Io no. Io vedo solo il mio male, lo sento, se solo ti raccontassi la metà dei miei problemi... E te mi vuoi giudicare se io non ci voglio pensare, ma che ne you know of life? .
Marco disappeared from circulation shortly after he became acquainted with the guys at the station, briefly dismissed as "toxic " from my fellow travelers. Gainers on the Eurostar to stop at Termini station, usually in pairs: it creates the diversion, passengers the help, and his accomplice took advantage of the distraction to pull out a book or take away a bag. They have a few seconds to act, the trains do not stay more than three or four minutes, and often take to the race by forcing the doors semi-automatic when the train begins to move already, screaming furiously against capomacchina with four five suitcases in tow. With the theft can be bought drugs, alcohol and drugs. Marco must essere andato con loro, per perdersi un po'.

[ Tratto da " Roma senza fissa dimora ", 28 dicembre 2004]

Leggi " Roma città vista di spalle "

High School Cubefield

La penna ancora tra le dita, deposito in magazzini di carta pensieri e emozioni, in modo più o meno ordinato. Mi piace questo stile di vita. No, non dico il dormire all'addiaccio, no. Parlo dello spirito di ricerca. Parlo del viaggiare sempre con un taccuino e una bic nella tasca pronto a prendere appunti. Schizzi. Parlo di spremere i giorni come limoni ogni sera, con cura e, scansati i semi, versarne un bicchiere negli inchiostri di china, per dare sapore alle parole.

Ieri, appena left the bar where I come in the morning to write about me, I come to the center of St. Vincent Farnese. Breakfast, shower and change of linen. Bianca. While eating cake and mandarin, dodging on the pan brown orange peels, I know Gary. Palermo. A gentle giant. It is at least one meter high and one hundred ninety pounds, his hair and beard shaved every day. Scented with rose water and aftershave. Her face seems carved in marble sea, expressionless, does not let any emotion, his eyes half closed, his brow furrowed and constant attention. Under his eyelids and irises turn green-brown range, right, left, by controlling the room. It's his turn to shower. He rises. He opens his eyes, his mouth a moment bends downward. Comes together, with narrow eyes went to the entrance, closed the door and calmly called the operator. A low voice, but audible to all present, he tells her that no one leaves the center until it jumps out of his black umbrella. Silence. The tension starts to rise, when suddenly a girl with a large mouth and teeth yellowed begins to shake his lips rehearse tempering red like a frog. Ride, the umbrella is right there on the chair where he sat until the moment before. Ah! Ah ha! Ah ha! Well. Gary picks it up and row straight into the shower.

the evening I meet him again at the station, talk, and expects to arrive together with their volunteers, nostri, panini. Gaetano ha quarantadue anni. É un uomo preciso, è un uomo d'onore. Ci tiene a precisarlo e me lo ripete più volte. É arrivato a Roma esule dalla cara Sicilia tre anni fa. Come non lo so. Mentre abbassa la testa alzando lo sguardo su di me, gira in aria l'indice della mano destra e scandendo le sillabe mi dice che non ha mai poggiato la testa su un cartone, e che non può farlo. Se lo vedesse un conoscente, uno di Palermo, il mondo è piccolo. Se si venisse a sapere in Sicilia che lui a Roma fa questa vita… Dorme a Orte, nella sala d'attesa dei treni. Oppure a Fiumicino all'Aeroporto. Là si sta al caldo, il posto è tranquillo e non ci sono problemi, può restare tutta la notte e nessuno lo caccia per road. And if anyone sees him can always tell who has missed the train that night, cursing the misfortune of the case. Does not bring bags with them, no bags or bags. Better not to arouse suspicion. So he changed his clothes, throws them. A shower every day, every change of a basket. With him is only the clothes he wore and the reporting of loss of his identity card. It also asks whether he has lost his past with that document. "I'm just " says resting his eyes along the horizon of the tracks, between the sweet voice and the gruff, broken by a cry of anger and restrained with difficulty. Long-term. The parents are dead, have problems at home with his brother, a policeman. He spent five years in prison, he asks me if I know what life is tyrannical. Then a hint of a smile, as if to apologize for the confidence, he begins to sing in falsetto Neapolitan songs renowned South. He smiles. In the summer goes on the sea, is the season to Vaianica Tor. Works at night as a guard in the parking lot of a restaurant on the beach. Earn well, fifty sixty euro a night. But then he also has his flaws, he explains. He drinks, smokes and especially coca blowjob. Only in summer, when he has money and can afford it. Then back to the winter with its cold not under thick gray. It also sells the smoke in the summer by the sea. But sell it with respect. Stresses. He gives the customer a barrel each time. For he who sells it to him in the hope that him respect him as. So if you buy one hundred € for example smoke give as a gift a bit more so. He cuts it in so many logs and gives one to every customer. He knows how to deal with the customer, in the hope that customers and meet him.

[From "Rome homeless , December 28, 2004] Read

" Rome city seen from behind "

Little Ashes Online Gratis

Dances with Wolves

evening arrived at the station a girl named Paola. As if it were the most obvious was close to our group of drinkers, along the first track, and asked for a glass, pouring the red wine all over a river of words that have long wanted to tell, non importa a chi e come. Paola viene da Viterbo, è appena arrivata col treno. Ha venticinque anni ma ne dimostra molti meno. Occhiali rettangolari, un berretto a pompon bianco e blu, calze di lana verde pistacchio che vanno a infilarsi dentro un paio di anfibi neri allacciati con stringhe giallo fosforescente. Le mani in tasca, una sciarpa rossa e un piumino nero.

Paola è già mamma, a casa ha un bambino di un anno e mezzo, ci dice, strizzando gli occhi con insistenza, con un tic nervoso. " Me l'hanno tolto i servizi sociali ", aggiunge. Il suo ex è un alcolista. Nelle pause del discorso arriccia le labbra all'insù e stringe un po' gli occhi. Prende tempo. Ora l'ha pure lasciata, sta con la sua migliore friend, "she bell'amica . He shakes hands in the air. Jane is a girl. Sweet, tender, do you understand on how you look, naive, do you understand how to watch others. Paola loves the club, she likes to dance on the cube on Saturday night. I do not know her though. Paola also like making love. This, too, his do not.

Daughter of a large family, is the smallest of the house. At fourteen he began to run away from Viterbo to go dancing to disco. At fifteen, a policeman who had accompanied her to the police station he groped for a control by force, he says, shaking his head. At nineteen years instead of a gang of boys, Romanian, brought her into the car in the country and thrown on the grass of a field wet from the night. There, like wolves, have stolen her virginity to the beatings. Still waiting for the process, reported them. Jane is a naive girl, tender, simple. Paola has a great need for affection. He surrounded himself with men and almost every time someone takes advantage of her. Paola is a bit 'lost, lost in the wires in the air of a world view that puts half of those who try as she loves butterflies.

Paola is a face, like so many that the way you propose for the event. Prompt, passing like a train on the track, fleeting, like the headlights of a car at night.

[From "Rome homeless , December 26, 2005]

Read " Rome city seen from behind "

Brazilian Waxing In Brampton

take me a kiss to

rains. Grey sky, the clouds are full, roof wash, rinse the walls, the streets are chasing streams of water wet. Meanwhile, the Tiber, all strutting swells. Spending all day at the station, I have no umbrella, I have a dry change, I can not get wet.

The afternoon passed quickly, swinging chat with Gigi and her friend, Cara, on street life and the continuing struggles for territory. In the evening, after dinner, get to the first track Giancarlo, happy to host a pilgrim, which is me, and listen to news from the world of the living.

Giancarlo Florence, on the fifty, small and intelligent brown eyes, gray hair, balding, with the always well-kept goatee, wants to show off and arouse the interest of his audience with enchanting speeches refined, tasty as the best red wines of his beloved Chianti . He has much experience in the world, has studied and traveled extensively for work. Brings with it a great sorrow and great anger, which gives rise whenever plaintiffs also small. It is a kind of reaction, those who have suffered enough and there is more.

Giancarlo has with him a bag with a certain culture. Born and raised in Florence, a master's degree in economics and a master's degree in management in New York, thirteen years working at Benetton, in giro tra il mondo e gli affari. Il matrimonio, la bella vita, l'agio del lusso. Poi la malattia della moglie, la trafila nelle migliori cliniche private degli States, in cerca di una cura impossibile. Fili di speranza spezzarsi uno dopo l'altro, come capelli finissimi. Poi la morte, il lutto, la caduta, il fallimento, primo, vero, irrimediabile. L'inesorabile erosione del resto, la strada.

Giancarlo è un uomo orgoglioso. Testardo, sprezzante, rigoroso, preciso. Sa essere generoso fino alla vita e scaltro alla morte, tenero e cinico, passionale e indifferente. Giancarlo ha un animo attento e fine, più di quanto non voglia lasciare trasparire ai suoi compagni di strada, intento com'è a recitare la parte del duro. So understand well on my way down, the margins of society, and even tries to help me in our meetings, deliver the right words to tell the road and its contradictions.

discuss how the company excluded, the marginal society faithfully reproduces normal (or standard?) And they have not so far away. The only difference perhaps lies in the fact that on the road everything is exaggerated, that everything is permitted. Everything is harder. However, the social dynamics are roughly the same. Namely those of a group in which individuals are at war with each other, except for temporary and opportunistic alliances, ready to betray, to forget and get hurt. On the way we fight for the worst ideals, it makes for misery. And the misery is a terrible beast. Because you're ready for anything, because he struggled to survive and not to feel better, because so you have nothing to lose, even if the life you want.

Last year the Termini station in the road was much harder, now they have cleaned up a force of police raids. Here slept a lot last year released recently from prison. People convicted of murder in perhaps three decades. They were in the middle of a road at fifty, after spending more time in jail in the open air, perhaps with other pending court cases, for which they already knew that they expected a sentence long enough to pass the remaining days behind bars .

" Bah, a man hosì - he says Giancarlo - n'omo he has never ever imparatho vissutho never to do it, one more than he to them without a passatho is also without a futhuro. A man hosì - he concludes - is i'ppiù periholoso dell'omini because it has nothing to lose, has already lost everything. And 'able to kill a coltellathe amiho pe' a quarrel or a HRIS nerves. The Vitha not eg all the same value. Eh depends on where you look i'mmondo and he look at your point of Vith, from i'vvalore h and from .

We agree on the peculiarities of each story, each person and his biography. For the Tuscan sociology can dare studies and forecasts on social groups with a degree of science, but in no case the individual, the person is one with which the processes of its development. A

Giancarlo like to climb into the chair laughing and I mentioned an example to better understand. Watch Caramel, which has not moved from the morning from his blankets sitting like a folding chair into the space between two columns along the first track. Holds him up. " Asshole! Asshole! - repeat - you see a oh!? Lasciatho And he has ruined the other's vitah trovatho n and has run out on the street without even trying 'to do something. And the fact he references all days a turning point, limithandosi to eat and sleep under a un portiho della stazione, lo rende uno stronzo elevatho a i'qquadratho ", insiste Giancarlo.

Carmelo è milanese, di famiglia palermitana, la poliomielite da bambino lo ha reso zoppo, e un brutto giro di spaccio a Milano gli ha dato la spinta finale sul marciapiede. Alle provocazioni dell'amico toscano risponde con un sorriso bonario, sospirando senza scomporsi. Ormai si sta lasciando andare del tutto. Passa giornate intere arrotolato in una coperta marrone e mangia a intervalli regolari. É indifferente, è fermo, è come morto.
" Phiutthostho - conclude seccato, Giancarlo - meglio buttarsi sotto a un treno anzihé lasciarsi imbrutire in codestha maniera, almeno tu scegli i'cche fare of you life, and insennò you live to eat and sleep, as s'avessi i'ccontrollo lost the ship, is a more i'ccapithano you are, or maybe the one you're not even ever been. But then, is to feel, to serve thi icché i'ttimone eh? "

[From" Rome homeless , December 27, 2004] Read

" Rome city seen from behind "

How To Get Rid Of A Wart On Lip

Gigi Florence, boy life

Salutati Attila and Rois, while Angy still looks around frightened, I go to the station, walk two steps to cool off in this order and incessant rain. ended, I end up ambulare along the first track, where I meet the new Caramel. Together him are Louis and Giancarlo, the first Roman de Rome, Florence other. Sitting on top of one of those cold metal benches, along with Gigi spend an hour or so good to talk. It starts from my nose right down in space with wide stretch along the themes of life. I tell him right away who they are and why I am in the middle of the road, he tries to do the same. There is finally a good climate, open discussion and debate.

Gigi seems to me from the beginning a dramatic character, written by a great author, a mask. In his fifties, tall, physical dry, gray hair and sopracciglioni blacks, accompanied with large hand gestures wrinkled his jokes scathing. Irreverent spends his time taking life around, from the slums of a road that somehow loves him, with the dignity of a man stray preliminary judgments and curses, seasoned with a few glasses of cheap wine. Not snobbish enjoys watching people and break the walls of decency and apologize, you know mica. His is a grotesque mask, her life and instinctive genius satire of a society adrift, and made double. So this carnival by sharp character lines recited aloud, is staged every evening from his stage, each leg of the first track, for the sake of his audience, travelers stop at Termini, that without buying a ticket find themselves to be measured by the stage, the jokes, the deceit and the mockery of this miserable life.

Gigi's got to death with foreigners who live in the same conditions. Almost like a visceral scream all'untore, to give a face to the guilty of something that did not work and why he and many others are now saying, the road better. I am struck by the utter inability to draw a minimum in some general framework, to have a broader view of the phenomenon in its social, economic and political. Ah yes that street there are also highly educated people. However, there is only a small circle. For others it all comes down to a miserable war of the poor. The boundaries of identity are the easiest to trace. We

Italian Semo and the state there must be 'de PPIU! I know only those capable of working from vojono rubbatte and nun '! Anvedi oh! But there fano in Italy? Not from Hanoi tornassene home, 'sti assholes! There steals our work and there are also a damn 'Noantri them deaf!

Stereotypes, not unlike those that most people's well nourished to the poor and uncomfortable. But as victims? They are criminals, are homeless, are ill. They have not chosen them after all?
This freedom of choice is an easy cliché difficult to break down, as well as comfortable to think. Convenient yes, it downloads all liability distress for the person in difficulty, with honors promoting the social system instead it is a party in the generation, complex, of the same discomfort. No one is born bad, there is no gene for poverty, drugs, alcoholism, there is no determinism in these fields. But there is the complexity of the stories, biographies of people who carry on the signatures of the processes that made them what they are today. In these processes play a key role in the person himself, who can not delegate the responsibility of self to others. But play a role as important figures such as family, friends, companions s, children, the grief, the social system, culture of origin, care services, the labor market. No one chooses the road. Perhaps it is more correct to say that the road selects its inhabitants, one day the landlord accounts, sometimes a bit 'at random, without first knocking at the door.

are always long stories and issues that lead to losing everything and everyone, is not about losing a job overnight. Often the work is indeed the last of the things that one loses, after the deaths, after sanity after the substance addiction, after many wounds of the heart. The road one day, after many threats, you are to take home and whisk you out there on the sidewalk, damp, lonely. There are no instructions, there is only one night, the first, that everyone remembers as the hardest, that when the eyes are dug from fear and cold, and time seems not to play through. Then there are the days, weeks, months, sometimes years. And as everything becomes a habit. The man has an incredible ability to adapt and also adapts to the road. So there is sometimes someone like Gigi, he says proudly that road there is good and that the nun would change their pe 'ggnente.

I'm like a pope, working nun, nun I've got commitments and no stress, I do I collect every UPDATE, I'm with friends, and the Great breaking nun me no soul. You de PPIU from life. I do na real life, not those of ALL. Because life is hard and you de way 'whirling a lot of things that normal life na nun mmai will teach you. I fear I've got nun de ggnente now. Tarmente I've seen many that I'm grown, matured as a person you know. A road is a better teacher of life. Te 'whirling everything there is on the pound nun. You 'to be whirling in trovatte' and Magna, teaches you to sleep 'in the open in winter and summer ice cor co' ll'afa. Te 'whirling ssolo to defend and has a nun' on anyone. Te 'whirling in chains' n'occhio always open, even when you sleep, because if nun never know. Te 'whirling in enforcement and te' er whirling value of things, from friendship for example. Why in the street also see lots and lots of suffering. And when you stop during PDATE nun who know ffa ', we think, and you seem to de 'mparà quarcosa. Sull'antri, up from you, and things' MPORTANT of your life. No nun ce
I go back, because I'm bbene here. Now I've got friends and the nun me just go back to work in de ass like that for me a thing? Risk for de ritrovamme station between n'anno.
A gabbro, I've got me almost fifty years, nun me I Prenn them certain risks.

Bold and irreverent shoot zero on the lives of poor and alienated rather than chasing a dream that does not belong to a handful of flies selling their time to the labor market. At the same time, however, becomes less arrogant if you start talking about other things, such as the family who are not and that would potuto avere, all'aiuto che non ha ricevuto quando ancora sarebbe stato possibile vivere una vita degna in una casa che aveva e che ha perso. Per un attimo allora sì mi dà ragione. É con me nel dire che l'attuale forma di economia capitalista ha imposto la mercificazione dell'uomo, al punto che nemmeno si parla più di lavoratori e lavoratrici ma di risorse umane. Ecco, dal momento che ognuno di noi diventa risorsa, merce, la sua vita lavorativa risponde unicamente ai criteri di convenienza, competitività, prezzi, rischi e assicurazioni dell'impresa. E quel che è peggio è che lo stesso discorso si estende alla sua vita sociale, dal momento che lo Stato stesso si presenta sempre più come una grande impresa, un grande amministratore of public property, voted for the sole purpose of balancing budgets and revive an economy in perpetual crisis, perhaps even privatizing public services and to be managed by private companies, which calculate their profits on the rights of their users, us.

no longer even have a class conflict. There is an inside and an outside. In and out of a system of productivity, which is a social system, almost religious, offering sacrifices to the altars of profit and competition, praising the man alone, you do yourself. The others, those who lose their train, those who can not keep the pace of this new religion, they fall back. No one will stop to pick up on the street. La solidarietà è un lusso. Correre una necessità prima che un piacere.

Fermarsi è troppo rischioso.

[ Tratto da " Roma senza fissa dimora ", 26 dicembre 2004]

Leggi " Roma città vista di spalle "

Too Much Protein Bloody Nose

I

Dopo il panettone e il caffé, usciamo dalla chiesa di Santa Maria in Trastevere sull'omonima piazza, dove, ahimé, ci fermiamo un po'. Roisin è andata in bagno, io e Attila la stiamo aspettando con Angy, la cagnetta, siamo vicino alla fontana e parliamo. A un certo punto dei signori che erano al pranzo con noi, a pochi metri di distanza tirano un petardo. Angy inizia a tremare, piange, ha paura of barrels, wants to escape. Attila is nervous keeps tight leash, the caress and whispers something. Meanwhile, the other a lit firecracker second falling a short distance from us. Bum. Angy does not take more, crying, shaking like a leaf in the wind, a continuous moan. I remain speechless.

I never thought that Attila was so irascible. In a split second the dog spring and explodes in a scream of rage, he rails against the bomb and three in English, began to tell them if they like the way to celebrate Christmas, throw firecrackers in the crowd, this is their Christmas? Look at my dog! Look! The ever done ...

The sequel was a bit 'as the game of dominoes, in which a card until it pulls down the other end cards. One of the three, in his fifties, ex-convict, asking him to go against who ever is believed to be. Attila the threat to call the police. That same word, police and detonates a cocktail of memories and fears. The kind no longer sees the anger in his eyes and tries to struggle with Attila. Some hold it tight. Roisin arrived, I have not the time to explain, but I can convince to let go of Attila and go home, do not bother when we do not need it. Let's go.

Attila's nervous, Roisin disappointed. It seems that is not the first time that Attila gets into trouble for its over-reactions to quanto basate su comprensibili motivi. Lui non le risponde, ma sbuffa, guarda dritto avanti a sé e si mastica i denti. A un tratto esplode di nuovo, io li seguo da dietro. Butta per terra la chitarra, lascia cadere il suo zaino e parte di corsa, dove, nemmeno lui lo sa. Forse ha solo voglia di sfogarsi. Rimango con lei, è un po' triste, stanca. Inizia a parlarmi del carattere del suo compagno, così istintivo e totale nel bene e nel male. Continuiamo a camminare, senza sapere bene nemmeno noi cosa fare, visto che Attila non accenna a tornare, senonché…

Sento crescere un certo vocio alle mie spalle, mi giro e vedo un gruppetto di sette avanzare verso di noi. In mezzo a loro riconosco il tipo che accendeva i petardi e che collided with Attila. The squadron cowards look mate Roisin to teach him a lesson on respect for rank. On the street do not mess around, and kids who pay. However, the group leader is another, a boy of about thirty, and sixty feet tall, clean shaven. You can tell from the way she walks, one meter ahead of everyone else, with quick steps, which took the incident as a personal score to settle with the parties concerned. I have before. A few inches from my face raises his voice. He asks where is my friend. Search the fight already. I have two accounts. Me against seven, the risk that hurt even Roisin. I try to mediate. With more diplomatic tones possible answer is that I have not the faintest idea if they have We went and planted there, how do I know where it went. Minds, is a friend, you know, you're covering. Nice not to mess with us. Not kidding. Where you know it! I repeat that no, I do not know. It removed the type from me, putting his hands on my shoulders, I make two steps forward. Get your hands off me and do not touch me. I leave him and tell him that I do not I put my hands on him and I do not want to have some problems, I go to find my friend. Now the fuse has been lit. You put your hands on me I do not understand. Back to the office. Bum. A head on his nose. The avoidance of little. Bum. Another. I feel the blood flowing, warm, put a hand to the face, is filled with red. Oh no! Leave me alone, that got to do I. Eh? Surplus to my opponent. I told you I do not know where. This time they go, like stray dogs. While moving away, the guy turns around and points a finger at me, like, remember the lesson. I turned around, shaking his head, crying Roisin, I apologize. He feels guilty for what happened. That I'm trying to calm her and tell her that my nose is made of wood and before it takes a break, it's nothing. They are cowards, they are seven to settle accounts than one. I wipe with a cloth rag. I look in the mirror of a motorbike, the cut is not deep, at the height of the forehead. Fortunately, I bent my head against her, otherwise I would have broken his nose. Should I be

angry, but I have to laugh. I feel the smallness and narrowness of men who believe in punches and measure the honor and respect based on tones of voice in the square. The blow on the nose does not give me any thoughts, then passes, the idiocy, by contrast, is slower to pass any fracture of the nasal septum.

Roisin is still reeling, we decided to go home together, each in his way, we are heading towards Argentina. Attila know the city, sooner or later will come back, hopefully just do not find it. We set off on Viale Trastevere. A few minutes later we see it coming, looking like the sun. Roisin pierces through with an angry look, he does not understand, sees me and falls on the mouth. What happened? Sembra piovuto dal cielo. Gli spiego l'accaduto, gli dico che lo stanno cercando e che io non ho assolutamente voglia di trovarmi in una rissa di strada contro sette persone, magari armate di coltelli. Quindi torniamocene a casa, o meglio torniamo per strada perché una casa non ce l'abbiamo, ma da un'altra parte della città.

Fa cenno di sì con la testa, si morde le labbra. Mi dà retta forse solo perché si sente in colpa. Comunque ci incamminiamo. Arrivati in Piazza Navona ci mettiamo a sedere. Continua a piovigginare, non c'è molta gente in giro, bancarelle vendono dolci, cartoline e foto ricordo di Roma. Li lascio da soli, meglio che si chiariscano. Non so dove andare per medicarmi e soprattutto non ho niente per farlo, to go to the emergency room for a patch do not talk. Behind the square is a public bathroom, I take this opportunity to wash myself a little 'face. Climb the stairs, still hold a paper towel placed over the cut to stem the blood. I recognize the area. Two years ago I spent three nights in a hostel of the sisters mantellate, not far from here. I try to find the place. Course date back to the Renaissance in the rain begins to be felt, is the courtyard that I photographed then, I go upstairs and introduce myself. The lady at the counter is not quiet when they see a guy appear ill-dressed, unshaven and a handkerchief stained with blood on his nose. Seeking to calm and soft tones of the story. I say two years ago I stayed here a couple of nights. I was with my sister Elena, who came to Rome for a special holiday, with Sant'Egidio, to celebrate Christmas with the poor of Rome, helping to organize the event and together with a glance, curious, a hidden city . However now I find myself in Rome, I fell and I have not the faintest idea where to find the disinfectant and a plaster. Then, this does not tell him though, I have not any money with me, so even if we find a pharmacy would do very little. The girl starts taking a good complexion, gives me another look, a long breath, grasping the lips and tells me to expect. He disappears behind the counter and after a while I see her back, holding a bowl of disinfectant and a patch of gauze. He says he does not have cotton or Cerottini, only disinfectant and an adhesive tape to fix a possible patch or similar. Thank you. He points to a mirror in a closet at the side, dim. I wash the wound and we glue the patch on the cut by placing a piece of paper towel. I greet and I go, slamming behind the glass door, distracted. Just go out in the open air feel the heaviness of fatigue, body and mind will be blow to the head, who knows. Puffing a little back to the bench where the others are waiting for me. I think they turned in opposite directions, arms crossed, faces taut. When they see me trying to compose himself, I understand. Well, I say, maybe we should we say goodbye, we're all very tired, so I accompany them to the Villa Borghese, where they take the bus.

[From "Rome homeless , December 25, 2004] Read

" Rome city seen from behind "

Original Evenflo Triumph Lx

The Pops Christmas Eve binge

When Christmas is Christmas on the road, at least in the morning, when the day is still as fresh as the air of the first warm sun, and the city slumbers, finally calm. Then you can afford to be a little 'more sociable and to recreate an atmosphere of normality, confidence, socialization with lighter and a bit' mad as their holidays are the worst moments when one is alone. You try to be nicer, there feels a bit 'more relaxed, or at least want to think. I just finished writing my daily thoughts on lines of paper and walk along the first track, without a goal, just to warm the soles and soul. I think. Meetings used to sitting on the bench, I think of right now belongs to him, such a Caramel, Milan half and half Sicilian. I've seen it many times sitting at the usual place on the first track, we salute you, the usual greetings, chat and a bit 'of Pandora. It's nice to start the day in a friendly way, a greeting, a bit 'of kindness, maybe a smile, relax the heart after days of aseptic and looks hard and heavy silence weighed.

I leave the station, I am curious went to St. Peter, just to spend the morning waiting for my appointment with Roisin and Attila for lunch in Trastevere. The square is crowded with people, drizzling, curious to observe the pilgrims. Provo amazement at the parades of the military forces of the Italian state which, armed to the teeth and with their machine guns, bring their gifts to the Roman Church. Ask for explanations to a priest who follows me a few steps from the ceremony with religious silence. Wrong address, in fact the bishop began to praise the qualities of the weapon and the right ideals of the war ...

at noon and fourth are on the Largo di Torre Argentina. The two Hungarians still do not arrive, meanwhile I'll go get a coffee at the bar around the corner, offers a master I met yesterday in the Military Avenue, take a shower. About sixty, whistling as he talks, it lacks teeth. At Christmas, everyone wants to celebrate with someone, to call someone and offer them something, even if a stranger, even a coffee. It is always a bit 'longer alone on holidays.

finally arrive Attila and Roisin, with their inseparable dog black, Angy, which starts jumping, barking and wagging his tail when he sees me. The sky is gray, but gray is a light fairy. Drips. Finally we arrived at the basilica of Santa Maria in Trastevere. In the square around the fountain in a sea of \u200b\u200bpeople waiting in line to enter. We are given a yellow ticket, we have assigned the table twenty-two. Before long we can go and sit at a table, which is just behind the main entrance, in back of the church on the right side. Initially, even we realize that the air you breathe, intent on counting tables and the choice of seats. Suddenly, almost simultaneously, we look into his eyes, moved, not a word, smile. The place is wonderful. I must say that I was ever so far to have lunch inside a church, it's nice, I like the meantime by an aesthetic point of view. There are about thirty tables arranged in pairs along two rows from the front door to the altar, dressed with great care. Bright red tablecloths, two plate menu on each table. A plant stereo spread the notes of sweet and serene music, Christmas carols. To the rest of us think the paintings, marble sculptures, mosaics, golden light golden around the altar. Mixed tables. There are volunteers, relatives and friends of the Community of Sant'Egidio and there is street people, who one day leaves out the door of the problems and troubles, to feel lighter, more dignified and a bit 'happier, as and crazy it may seem ephemeral. Tonight will return all the same, but while you eat. Lasagna, mashed potatoes, lentils, roasted, white wine of the Roman castles, cakes, a thousand sheets, panettone and Pandora. Gifts. At the end of the meal for everyone there is a package. Pleasant surprise. Survival kit. There a flashlight battery, a scarf, a wool cap, two or three pairs of socks in winter. Thanks. Roisin was moved. He thanked me because I invited them to come.

The main difference between this room and all the other tables that I have visited so far is this: in the festive atmosphere. Today we hear a widespread desire to be good, no problems, the atmosphere is relaxed, there is music and joy. Around the table you down the differences, we are all invited, it was all sitting side by side, we all served. The board as a moment of fellowship, is a lesson in equality and dignity, as well as sharing of food, wine and words.

[From " Rome homeless , December 25, 2004] Read

" Rome city seen from behind "

Kanye South Park Quotes

is dark and cold, sitting on a bench in the first track, I read. At that time passes and Roisin Attila, with their dog Angy. bring me an ice cream, whipped cream and chocolate cup, a thought and wish you happy holidays. In response peach backpack between things that on the morning in the middle of Via Farnese gave us for Christmas. A him a red woolen hat, you have a bar of dark chocolate. We greet each other with wide smiles, are in a hurry, I invite them to come together tomorrow for Christmas lunch, which is organizing the Community of Sant'Egidio in Santa Maria in Trastevere, Lucia gave me three good. After half a minute Attila yes and no running back, behind the guitar and a black bag over your shoulder. So much trouble to advise me to go to the cafeteria of Caritas via Marsala, eat all leave tonight, even without good, though I still took care in time. Thanks. I finish the ice cream and I move at a time of one hundred and seven of Via Marsala side of the station. I arrived at the gate, the operator tells me that it's too late now, are closing and I can not enter.

answer subdued not to worry, that if you eat late will mean that tomorrow is not a problem, they know the timetable. He says to wait, maybe I'll bring something. After two minutes, saying it has di entrare e sedermi al tavolo, poi mi serve un vassoio, primo, secondo e contorno, gelato. Sono seduto con un giovane ospite del dormitorio adiacente e con un operatore della mensa. Ha la mia età, capelli rasati, un piercing al mento, studia italianistica alla Sapienza. Con loro parliamo di questo mio viaggio e della strada, con il suo pullulare di vite e di gambe che la consumano come moscerini sulle vinacce. Finita la cena esco e torno verso la stazione. Cammino sotto i lampioni, attento a scansare le pozzanghere, sfilano come frecce le macchine a fianco. Mi fermo all'altezza delle poste, dove ho dormito le scorse notti, per fare gli auguri agli altri ed offrire loro alcuni gelati che ho preso alla mensa. Mi metto a sedere e iniziamo a parlare.

Sarkawi Sami is from Morocco and Libya. Ringers, adventure. Bulli, cunning, but in the end after a few gentle words. Together with us the group of Africans, Liberians and Ivorians. All illegal immigrants, veterans of the landings in Lampedusa long gone. They also speak Arabic, had all lived in Libya for some time. Libya is indeed a milestone for those forced to leave the Black Africa by land, after the long journey through the desert. And maybe you are working in Libya for several years to earn the money to the ticket for a trip to the coast of the phantom hope of a better future. Here is the better future, here it is hope: the road. This is the end of so many bodies foundered in a sea of \u200b\u200bconcrete as dirt of our time, private any rule of law, because without a card. Plunged into misery, and every day torn between law and crime, occasionally stretch the rules. And slowly tearing becomes the rule, and dries up the heart, the cynicism that remove dirt remorse and conscience, in a struggle for survival first, then for supremacy. Poor thieves. Social cases to fill our prisons.

ten o'clock arrived, on time and expected, boys and girls of the Community of Sant'Egidio to bring food, drink and a bit 'of fun. Along with the sandwiches can bring a nice climate, from that moment everything is contaminated with positivity. We are a bunch of strangers who wants a evening to turn away from another part to discharge the belly from resentment, to convert the anger and boredom, solitude and silence in songs, dances and dances of joy, as it is ephemeral or fleeting. Having guests, receiving gifts and smiles, as trivial and light, creates a festive atmosphere that soon becomes collective. A Liberian boy, drank like a sponge, barefoot and wearing only a shirt, red and green checkered cap, he begins to sing and dance along the stairs to the street from the Post Office, a number of songs bast. He does it in his language, are love songs, are songs of struggle. Nostalgia runs a shiver down the skin of others who get up early and join him, her eyes full of joy. An impromptu performance of tribal dances, songs, reggae and hip hop to the rhythm of a clap, in the drizzle last night gray clouds. They challenge the sky and the passers-by, they sing their dignity, shouting, drunk. Want to be happy and carefree, if only for a moment. Drunk. Their way into his jacket and boots and set off to conquer the night in the city streets on foot bouncing to the rhythm of the steps of dancing bodies imitating life.

the morning when I open my eyes, I see them on their heavy cardboard sleep, snoring.
I smile when I get up and roll up the bag, I think the good atmosphere tonight. Today, according to the Roman Christian calendar Natale. Fuori il cielo è grigio e pioviggina. Rari sfilano alcuni autobus, pochi i viaggiatori di scalo a Termini. Macchine, quasi nessuna. La città sembra dormire, sembra respirare un momento sulle note di una lenta canzone. Esco. Ho indovinato alla fine che sono gabbiani quelli scolpiti in bassorilievi stilizzati lungo tutto il frontone di pietra della stazione, sul piazzale dei bus.

[ Tratto da " Roma senza fissa dimora ", 25 dicembre 2004]

Leggi " Roma città vista di spalle "

Sunflora And Houndoom Emulator

As exiles thoughts flocks of birds blacks

La mattina di oggi inizia, stranamente, con la colazione. Appena svegliato, verso le sette, trovo intorno a me gettati per terra come sporcizia panini imbustati Cheese and chocolate cakes. They are the leftovers from last night's patrol. A group of Italian Red Cross volunteers who presented themselves to the half yesterday, ignoring the fact that everyone here is already asleep, spent a good half an hour shouting at each other, one step away from us, under the stairs.

ate a sandwich at the center line for the showers of Via Farnese, Lepanto area. Carini. A cozy place. We serve breakfast, two tangerines, milk, coffee and a slice of cake on a platter brown. Do you expect in a sitting room, resting on red tables. In short, everything is decent, and clean bathrooms. In contrast, it is depressing to hear about who took over as the vital problem of cooking mensa, gli orari del centro diurno, le lenzuola del dormitorio, il compagno che russa e quell'altro che gli ha rifiutato le sigarette, Veltroni e Storace che offrono il pranzo a Natale. Fortunatamente una bella doccia, specie se fredda, l'acqua calda è finita, rinfresca e distende, anche da questi pensieri, almeno un minuto. Domani è Natale. Da giorni non ho contatti di nessun tipo con la famiglia e gli amici, non ho un centesimo in tasca.

Decido di prendere un cartone, vado vicino San Pietro, lungo viale Giulio Cesare, mi metto a sedere. Con una bic nera scrivo su quel cartone in quattro lingue, inglese, francese, arabo e italiano. Chiedo un aiuto per continuare il mio viaggio. Intanto siedo lì accanto, tranquillo. C'è the sun, I read Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment. They spend thousands of tourists armed with cameras, hats and scarves, are directed to the Vatican Museums. A river of people flowing along the bank on which I sat. An hour passes. A long-haired guy with the red beard stops and gives me two Euros. Sixty minutes to the internet point to write notes of congratulations, sleepy mail, I close my eyes on the commas.

I do a lap in front of the station. Terms of the evening I like the pine trees at sunset, when the clouds are dark and the sky purple and a little 'gray. By green pines rise above throbbing flocks of starlings. Thousands and millions, blacks, fill the sky, stand out in the air, drawing the winged forms of space, dotted blacks seem at times fall, ash, and then quickly pull up bouncing on empty to fly higher. Looking to the sky swell like a balloon and the air drill and then get confused and fly away. Sometimes I stop and they fixed a long time, head held high and a hand over his eyes, you never know ... Later on, when the sky is already nearly dark, they come thick gulls. Definitely more gifts in the flight and larger openings in the grayish white of the wings, looking up, maybe play to draw geometric figures, one chasing love to dance, tell the proud fishing adventures of the day. Then all together, when everyone is present disappear in a few seconds behind il frontone del tetto della stazione. Lassù da qualche parte riposano, fino a mattino.

[ Tratto da " Roma senza fissa dimora ", 24 dicembre 2004]

Leggi " Roma città vista di spalle "