Before reading this post, press play and listen a few seconds. Then, go ahead.
is not the time and metereopatia.
I do not have my stuff.
not because I'm moody, I do not are moody.
are limited abbondandemente coherent and rational.
It is not that there are days when you're well.
If you're so there is always a reason.
Well, today I'm not like that.
It 's a matter of dissatisfaction, something that obviously is wrong, of hopes, dreams, this life just so wrong.
spend our lives looking for a job that we like and if we find it, expect an end to our eight hours to get home or arrive on the weekend to go to the movies, playing tennis or that museum that is all we wanted to see.
spend our lives looking for someone who shows that love us, someone we see just fine too cute, someone to spend our life not be afraid to love in front, before a mortgage or cointestato before a delay.
What we understand, to forgive us, that before we know what goes through my head, which has not problem to accompany an exhibition or at the mall to look for the boots.
If we are lucky we find it.
But still something is wrong.
's all too perfect, everything so straightforward, as it should go.
car, motorbike, holiday, home, perhaps marriage, children one day, dinner in-laws, framed photos of smiling faces, Christmas gifts under the tree, breakfast in bed, pay per view.
But is that really how it should be lived a life?
E 'this really the right way to live?
Who or what told us that this is the best way to spend it?
Who taught us what is right or what is wrong when it comes to us, we alone?
are born, we become restless and adolescents sballoni, we go on holiday studio in London, then college, then we fall in love we gave up, then there is a right and we fall in love seriously, after billions of internship and project contracts, we find a good job, we're going to live, we buy cars and motorcycles, do some holiday, then decide to marry, while our career has made some shots, buy a house with twenty-year mortgage, we are a son, maybe two, our career continues to go great, our children grow up, our parents let us, we retired with lots of cakes to colleagues and having given the bottom of all our savings, we have not.
E 'as it should really go for all?
's so he has to go home too? 
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