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Intentions for the coming year to

service ceramic plates enamel my grandmother died. Small portions of fish heads in thawed pink pasta with cream in different shades of brown. I'm depressed. Fir kept in captivity, pulled out pens and decorated as Indian elephants to sacred festivals of Mumbai. Offers by sms in clusters. Teeth on display. A seat for two. Miracle on 34th Street. Salmon and butter. Dates and Mascarpone. Cavatelli and broth. Lamb and roasted potatoes. Sadness and melancholy.

What is this?

The Christmas Eve dinner. Some dining

celebrate the twenty-five, the other eve, like me. He expects to be born again jesus midnight, to celebrate the birthday, it sits in the cave, including Joseph, Mary, the ox and the donkey. Do not you hate it. Do not you love it. He was born you can exchange gifts as a sign of peace. A digital camera as a sign of peace. Silhouettes magnetic refrigerators, in sign of peace. An iron and a fryer, a sign of peace.

Then you go home to everyone to spend the rest of the best parties as it sees fit. For me there is work. Only that.

one who takes care of my feelings is gone, to spend the holidays in colder countries and more recently of our bombarded with people who do not know. That would be fine, for me there is work and wait around the corner, on time, anger, frustration, feelings of suffocation. Do not celebrate the New Year as protest. Eating delicious dishes, traditional dishes, desserts and drink as much calories sweet sparkling wine purely from hunger and thirst. Despite everything I

plans for the new year, so like everyone else, feeling that invisible line that separates the old from new, as the crossing of a border state, which does not exist, but there is. There is for example the matter of my latent homosexuality, feared by the One above, that if I came to find out at my age is really a hoax. But tell that to solve the problem of mine.

-Mom, Dad ... -E-

are homosexual who cares ... we are too old to look after their grandchildren

Then there is the character- I made up and beginning to have a certain reputation, and I already hate him. It was on television a few days ago and was happy. Next year I'll kill him. He in my place. I do eat the kitten Comma, I put it in his bowl into pieces.

Other? Ah, yes, I treat myself two cavities. New Year's Resolutions: treat me two cavities.

leave work and live in hardship.

inscribed in the gym. And go.

Do not make me put my feet over the head with anybody, but also offer all other parts of the body.

please me sex.

Unleashing water turtles in a pond of her bag near the hospital. They are tropical animals, there will certain death.

Happy holidays to all.

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silvia

Silvia no recollection at all when beauty still shone in her eyes and smiling and she escaped, happy and thoughtful, the threshold of youth saliva ... was dead.

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traffic in the rain

Wipers me cause hypnosis.

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the end is wonderfully come winter. Not with the fierce cold and sharp or sudden storms, or miniature ice ages, no, I did not want to overdo it this year. He did announce a perfect snow worthy of a holiday comedy, which lasted the space of one night and that's it. In the morning I wake up a phone and it is my mother who sings to me Jingle Bell and tells me to look out the window. I'm back baby. In the kitchen might expect warm milk and cookies and Christmas gifts and is such a shame that time has all but dissolved it. The landscape has changed and the eyes and brain have an unexpected new postcard of where they were already certain to see the usual sepia watercolor. A moment later I smile. I'll give everything that instant, one hand on the glass close to the cold test grating on the windows, ears filled with the silence that snow brings with it and nostrils ... those which had sniffed the night before the snow. The eyes fulfilled the bottom of the sky with white houses, with roads, with street lamps and with passers-by. The way you will not have not at this moment is the taste. In other places I'd be open to being shoved in her mouth to suck a snowball, but Milan could be the last thing I do before ending up on dialysis.

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I feel very fragile and melancholic. If a single snowflake falls I'll jump from the balcony.

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carpaccio Monkey

What do you get ready for dinner? Something that surprised, because I want to be proud of myself and my creativity. Away from the pesto pasta and potatoes, the spinach and ricotta cakes and even offal Venetian, floured with artichokes and onion. And so the fish do not know what to cook and eat it recently. For years I have done without due of an ancient fear passed down from my mother, who escaped a bone to clean the fish they hunted in my throat killing me. So when I was not so small to me my mother chewed pieces of fish. If satisfied with the absence of the bones I passed the bolus, recommended to be careful. My grandfather, his father, also ate the fish head and eyes, while the thorns regurgitated cleared his throat, as one who has gone cold. The take from the mouth with his fingers and threw them into the pot. How should a man do. But my mom does not have a man pulled up, pulled on me. My grandfather ate roast pheasant and spit in the plate lead shot. My grandfather for several reasons spit in the hand that feeds.

Tonight nothing pre-cooked, nothing frozen. No pizza delivery, no sushi takeaways. Nothing How about a Mexican? Call tandoori chicken and Eritrean cuisine that anoints the hands and turn your stomach. I cook what I say. And among the aisles of the supermarket on Viale Jenner push a cart full of empty shelves in human consciousness that one has to eat to live. It would be enough bread and soup in chicken broth, cooked or raw vegetables, fruit, and a steak or two a week but no. The contradictory and schizophrenic view of nutritionists, dietitians and naturopaths in all places have generated packets concentrated molecules of vitamins and nutrients that strengthen the body and prevent stroke and cancer, in the form of mozzarella. The vulgarity of canned food that desperately screams from the shelf of being orphaned in fat, or claims to help you shit on a regular basis. Cows have grazed on certified organic fields on land confiscated from the mafia, away from illegal dumping of radioactive waste are kept by farmers graduates murder victims lie in thick slices, bloody health and nature, under clear plastic. It's hard to imagine the industrial process behind the pack of biscuits broken and irregular. Made by a machine programmed to break them and print them in an irregular way, because the facts seem to be the hands of a baker and not a stepper and hydraulic presses. And the food then, as if they are morbidly placed against each other, military in neat rows on the shelves and by force alone leads them to mate with each other. I can not explain otherwise why I always buy things with the taste of something else. Biscotti flavored cappuccino, strawberry or detergents with emollient cream, which smooth and protect the skin of the hands, as do the cosmetics. Cosmetics fruit. Snacks become dried ice cream. Yogurt and water against aging, against cholesterol. The water will soon find its way to the drinks cost more money, because, he vows, will not only quench your thirst, but will do well to your body. And I do not see why the water should never be hurt by my body. Unless it is pumped directly from the channels drainage of the city of Caracas.

And I remember the lighting for my dinner tonight. I marinated monkey. I try to ask a blue collar in which aisle I can find it. I

He sends us.

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Be ', then I finally kissed her with his tongue. But not mine.

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No. I do not think anyone would trust me to hand in that little box with a red button in the center and the word 'WORLD DESTRUCTION' imprinted on it.