Saturday night and Sunday morning. Beach house. Scirocco.
After spending Saturday night with some friends at a party (actually not very successful) in a room about twenty miles from home, Matt decided it was not too tired to go to bed.
took his car (as you know is not the golf adventures Roman) convinced people to find yet another party at the marina.
Evidently it was not really dark and the organizers of the event, which dismantled the amplification. He had the wrong party, for the second time!
advantage of the unexpected quiet, he moved to the places dearest to him and the usual summer nights, the same notorious these days for stray dogs and all the rest (of which I feel horror and dismay at the thought) . It was invaded by feelings contrast between the pleasure of enjoying a sunset red, and sadness at the thought of what just a few miles away had happened just 15 days before (for the record of killing stray dogs attacked a child on the first Sunday of the sun, just between marine and Sampieri).
He had read an article on the Internet that taking a cue from stray attackers claimed the theory of a drift decadent horror that would begin with the province of Ragusa and had colonized the whole of Europe.
think of this word and could not believe that someone really thought.
will be the night before seemed to want to end (perhaps the return of summer, messed up his sleep), we granted a long car ride along the "province horrendous.
Scicli and memories came to the streets went to the feast of joy, to the folklore that goes with the religious baroque, from where the thought came to Modica, Ragusa, Giarratana places where the word becomes a real live nativity scene and not a surrogate representation of the Gospel. He came up to
Scoglitti before returning home, through stretches of land and greenhouses, and thought of all those people who work there, mostly immigrants, thought to the small towns of Santa Croce and Achates (between the towns with the most high density of foreigners in Italy) where the achievement of integration is not a utopia to read the newspapers, or seal to ronde shots, but the result of working lives and face, children in elementary classes in multi-ethnic, people who tries every day, against the mistrust, ignorance, misinformation, the understandable fears.
He returned to his beach house, stopping first on the waterfront. The looming on his morning sleep, but did not want to miss the spectacle of the rising sun on the sea that drunk sirocco.
After all the times I lost or I dreamed it, he thought.
his return to the province after years on the continent, was beginning to get a better idea.
We pay the periphery, but now the world is global.
Internet, television, opportunities widely used to study, make the people of this province, like many others in Italy and Europe, I can not resign myself helpless in the words of one writer.
It 's true there is much to improve, and if I think that nearly all the brightest of my peers have had to go somewhere else to continue to shine, salt despondency (a thousand times I've seen so fortunate to have studied out, what a disaster that nobody from outside studies in our universities, showing how the condition is good and affordable for many families, but still limited the potential of this part of Italy) I think a short-sighted and incompetent leadership continues to act with impunity. But I had reckoned. I went back to "do things", he continued to repeat itself for exhaustion.
After spending Saturday night with some friends at a party (actually not very successful) in a room about twenty miles from home, Matt decided it was not too tired to go to bed.
took his car (as you know is not the golf adventures Roman) convinced people to find yet another party at the marina.
Evidently it was not really dark and the organizers of the event, which dismantled the amplification. He had the wrong party, for the second time!
advantage of the unexpected quiet, he moved to the places dearest to him and the usual summer nights, the same notorious these days for stray dogs and all the rest (of which I feel horror and dismay at the thought) . It was invaded by feelings contrast between the pleasure of enjoying a sunset red, and sadness at the thought of what just a few miles away had happened just 15 days before (for the record of killing stray dogs attacked a child on the first Sunday of the sun, just between marine and Sampieri).
He had read an article on the Internet that taking a cue from stray attackers claimed the theory of a drift decadent horror that would begin with the province of Ragusa and had colonized the whole of Europe.
think of this word and could not believe that someone really thought.
will be the night before seemed to want to end (perhaps the return of summer, messed up his sleep), we granted a long car ride along the "province horrendous.
Scicli and memories came to the streets went to the feast of joy, to the folklore that goes with the religious baroque, from where the thought came to Modica, Ragusa, Giarratana places where the word becomes a real live nativity scene and not a surrogate representation of the Gospel. He came up to
Scoglitti before returning home, through stretches of land and greenhouses, and thought of all those people who work there, mostly immigrants, thought to the small towns of Santa Croce and Achates (between the towns with the most high density of foreigners in Italy) where the achievement of integration is not a utopia to read the newspapers, or seal to ronde shots, but the result of working lives and face, children in elementary classes in multi-ethnic, people who tries every day, against the mistrust, ignorance, misinformation, the understandable fears.
He returned to his beach house, stopping first on the waterfront. The looming on his morning sleep, but did not want to miss the spectacle of the rising sun on the sea that drunk sirocco.
After all the times I lost or I dreamed it, he thought.
his return to the province after years on the continent, was beginning to get a better idea.
We pay the periphery, but now the world is global.
Internet, television, opportunities widely used to study, make the people of this province, like many others in Italy and Europe, I can not resign myself helpless in the words of one writer.
It 's true there is much to improve, and if I think that nearly all the brightest of my peers have had to go somewhere else to continue to shine, salt despondency (a thousand times I've seen so fortunate to have studied out, what a disaster that nobody from outside studies in our universities, showing how the condition is good and affordable for many families, but still limited the potential of this part of Italy) I think a short-sighted and incompetent leadership continues to act with impunity. But I had reckoned. I went back to "do things", he continued to repeat itself for exhaustion.
think about all the summers in Sampieri to all the friends who hosted (and that will in the future), who always felt welcomed and integrated by a province that is a border land, but can also be driving force of a different Sicily. A
Sicily where there are significant economic realities, where a centennial model of educational and cultural development has produced great minds and inspired minds. A
Sicily in which he has always lived isolated on the island, so that (say with pride) earned the nickname of the province "dad," where certain mafia-like organization did not take hold like in other areas, where political pluralism and democracy was secured by a PCI card with the highest percentages of southern Italy, where the flavors smells the scents are the ones that everyone recognizes as a healthy and genuine regret from many. A
Sicily where the death of a nine year old plant will be a long time, will not be forgotten. But the same Sicily, where his death will receive justice if all will agree not to stop at appearances, he does not believe in "good" writers in the vein of controversy and in search of popularity, where there will be no against Saviano "Gomorra",
Sicily where there are significant economic realities, where a centennial model of educational and cultural development has produced great minds and inspired minds. A
Sicily in which he has always lived isolated on the island, so that (say with pride) earned the nickname of the province "dad," where certain mafia-like organization did not take hold like in other areas, where political pluralism and democracy was secured by a PCI card with the highest percentages of southern Italy, where the flavors smells the scents are the ones that everyone recognizes as a healthy and genuine regret from many. A
Sicily where the death of a nine year old plant will be a long time, will not be forgotten. But the same Sicily, where his death will receive justice if all will agree not to stop at appearances, he does not believe in "good" writers in the vein of controversy and in search of popularity, where there will be no against Saviano "Gomorra"
but no where "Sicilian tragedy , will lose its identity as a hospitable land.
Should I write these things, he thought Matthew, although not as good as him with the words.
So you leave from the dawn of the Sicilian Channel.
words are a key, but the silence is a pick
wary the Chaplains ...
gaff (in silence, but head-on) back in the province
Should I write these things, he thought Matthew, although not as good as him with the words.
So you leave from the dawn of the Sicilian Channel.
wary the Chaplains ...
gaff (in silence, but head-on) back in the province
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