No Surprises.
Radiohead.
and guidance.
raining outside. In Milan it's raining. It's raining here forever, but Brandon Lee could not know.
With the elevated walk between the buildings, entering the homes of people, humanity intimate and misted the walls, broken intermittently by the holes of the blinds, which the North calls them "blind", just that you do not you can do to call them "blind", for you are and always will be "blind".
It 'Sunday, six on the second day of the cycle, you just leave half of the central station and plays Melinda in No Surprises by Radiohead while driving in the dark New this winter, under a light rain and uninterrupted.
And remember, you're always with you No Surprises made of incredible blunders, while driving in the dark of the winter southern winter was not with it's 16 degrees on average. Remember that centuries have passed since you were still blonde eyebrows ever since you were in order and went back home at night, the real home in those strange times between graduation and London, between London and the master, when you know that so comfortable that life would not last, they were just way, you'd be gone, again and again. Always try that feeling every move, every change. Every time a train, a bus, a plane will carried away, you see the lights of your clay soil vanish and breathe deeply, thinking it would come sooner or later, the day after you have not done any more effect.
Damned menstruation.
Damn Radiohead.
For the rest you've turned 25, which are not too many nor few. I am a quarter of a century, the turning point towards the 30, if not already showing that they are 35, but it matters little.
Despite cocoprofagia which you are a victim, you tried to organize the force, however, a dinner at home, discovering the substantial gap that exists between two people to cook and cook for 12. For your birthday in the office have even thought to make you the most desirable gift of all: a plant - in the light of your famous green thumb, that the only plant you have in your house has more medals to the value of a Vietnam veteran - and no less than 2 feedback, one from each end.
Historian boss told you that you (not in alphabetical order): arrogant, not humble, destructive, who treat her like a moron, who is afraid to ask things.
He added: "It is not enough to be a genius to be good writing."
You replied: "I'm not a genius about anything ...". Then you have been silent. Have you received. You apologized, promising that we'll work on that you keep forever room in order, that will always make the tasks that do not want the stuff or the husband of others who do not appoint more than God's name in vain and that no longer listens to rock music.
The second boss, for which you are overblown overblown as an edelweiss in mid-August on the coast road, which contribute to the boss every day to the sacred cause of unpaid overtime (and-even-have-bitch- -slacker!) grant by donating your mental health, well, the second boss told you: "I am very glad, for writing ... you see things on the fly, no, the communication mechanisms you express yourself ... well ...". And this is the classical FV (step Vaseline) which - as is known - is to make it less painful the next frontier of sodomy and professional, the so-called eco-friendly, for which your virtues are broken up with a beautiful Norwegian spruce tree.
So you were there, suspended between good and evil, anxiously awaiting the fateful "but" the exact same "but" you use when you want to give up some adorable boyfriend, perfect on paper, but you more or intrippa less as a drama channel 5 without Gabriel Garko.
"I love you ... blah ... BUT ... I'm at a stage in my life when ...."
leaders should study a bit of rhetorical constructions' most daring and less predictable. But it would be asking too much.
And, indeed, timely as it comes in the most squalid scripts:
"... is that sometimes I wish I were a bit 'more .........." and this replaces the black-out language, the complete annihilation of any property of language that causes the boss to avail itself of the gestural communication of the body to compensate for the apparent deficiency dialectical
both hands are closed, the two fists are combined in the same plane and are arranged side by side, with the palm parallel to the ground and begin to rotate, alternating ... exactly what happens to feet on the pedals of the bicycle ...
All this is enhanced by a strange grumbling, a kind of groan, as that could give a constipated hamster: mmhhh
Do you think that she intends to say that you should be faster, or smarter, which is a word much like in the professional world, "smart".
So begins the usual fight against your brain against nerve impulses that affect your facial muscles, absurd social mechanism by which you have in any way hide your thoughts to the head. And while you feel your soul split, fractured violently into two blocks:
1. wrath
2. discouragement cosmic
leaves room to discouragement and answer: "I do not know what I could do more of what I'm doing, I am working up to, but if you notice something wrong in the organization of my priorities, let me also this, so I can learn better ... " that is something to this manual, prove open to change and splatter image by B-movie run in your eyes and "This is the end" of the Doors playing in your ear.
And finally, in a small corner, a little of your person, there is a commentator sitting in an armchair, legs crossed, they say, is that "Mr. Intellect" that with a fair applombe and lifting the index points, slightly thrilled: "But after all, they give you 900 euro per month. And you're doing the best you can do. works every day in more than two hours due, multiplied by 300 days a year, taking an average of 10 hours per day, almost 2 months working in more than a year. "
Fico so! Yours is the first generation for which the thirteenth and fourteenth are understood in a mirror, not two salaries per year, but two more months of unpaid work.
You conclude that it is like when you were at the university unless you study, you were going better. On the other hand, now, more jobs, less you get. When you were not Fucking - compared to now - you were the queen of the powerpoint, the boy wizard of the Web, the genius of the press release.
Now you're not smart.
But, as they advise us down, we should also give thanks that, apparently, at least we "work" we have it.
Meanwhile've started to send resumes. For the first time outside Milan.
and dreams, undecided, Puglia and London.
Damned menstruation.
Damn Radiohead.
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