I thank him for making me the grandson of a grandmother who spoke to me in Friulano, feminist enrolled in PCI, which did not make me look Beautiful, but he gave me six years to Jovanotti, who did not want to see me locked in a room all afternoon to study, that sent me in the bike ride with friends who taught me how to cross stitch, I have taken on a trip in America.
I thank him for making me the grandson of a grandfather who let me win races with hooves on the prairie, I got the swing, which is the hare and pheasant best in the world, he called all his Dog Dick and Omar, who perseveres to watch Walker every night, who knows how to always find excuses coolest in the world, which has a huge sense of reality.
I thank him for making me the grandson of a grandmother who speaks the Venetian, which led me to pick cherries and grapes, strawberries in June to September, he gave me a beautiful red cat, which made us the applesauce and the sandwich with Nutella, that to please my sister and stop the dispute was pretending to spank me clapping her hands behind my butt, which left us on Sunday morning watching cartoons.
I thank him for making me a grandfather grandson of silent and thoughtful, that I was too young to understand the preciousness, that took us to harvest sitting on the tractor trailer, which he shaved a girl's ass, which is head of the table and sat was that game with his elbows on the table by turning his thumbs back and forth, I put my hand on his head as if to protect me.
I thank him for making me the daughter of a father who has never been a "cochon d'italienne", who could not make the confirmation because his godfather distributed Unit door to door, playing the accordion and keyboards in a group called romantic, who has invented all possible trades and found her, an honest job, which becomes more fascinated by the culture that for a couple tits, I have always loved, even when he found himself forced to enroll in a school of priests.
I thank him for making me a child of this mother, anxious, and who grew up in Lucio Battisti and healthy foods, a strong woman and full of love for everyone, who always knows what is right to do that too surely pantry advice that does nothing but ask everyone if they have eaten, if you want any more, if they stayed, and I highly recommend "be careful" an Italian mother.
I thank him for introducing me to his sister. Quell'integralista sister of my sister. I have nothing to say about it, because my sister is too. My sister can not describe. My sister is a part of me. And try to describe to you an arm if you can. My sister is an arm. One of my arm, but also a leg, foot, hand, eye. Here's perhaps not, are enough to blind me, I need not even his, of blindness.
But I also intend to insult anyone this.
The insult to all the evil that made me who I am, and I will do.
To me, yes.
Cause I'm selfish and the other shit I do not think.
Not when I'm sick.
I think about when I'm good enough, to others.
What then go to the other fan ass.
And this someone who does not know who he is, if it is, that certainly is not there, but it's nice to think there is. Yes, because it's nice to blame someone, it's nice clean conscience with an Our Father and Hail Mary. But I'm one that always gets the blame if the. Even when you just do not have it. And if your conscience clean by herself, she realized that the end-all-is inevitable. So there is or is not there, I do not need. At most I can thank, because I must always thank someone. Even when it does not deserve it. But that's what they told me to do. And I believe in what I say.
So I keep it the fuck off me.
Thank you ugly idiot, fuck me, fuck.
But one day I grow up. Yes, one day I'll wake up and not think about it anymore. It will be alright. As my field of vision when the two spans are exhausted from my nose and I did not do anything but eat and shit all day. Yes, it will. One day I grow up.
0 comments:
Post a Comment