the end return to old habits. Play On The Run by Pink Floyd, I caress the backpack and 'come with me everywhere. Stolen Ten years ago one of my brothers to carry something in Trieste has hitchhiked in England, has made trips to the beach, did Budapest, made all the campaigns in Russia, did those fantastic days to sleep on the beach Riviera Sanremo with Mirco and others. Shortly before his mind gave way and swept away many things from the lives of many people.
Sometimes I think to attack me in a little 'manic things, the shapes of things, the fetishes of things. The backpack, a way of saying, a song, I decided to do my thing, just for the sake of family company.
I reboot On The Run to feel again the part where the sun goes down 'and you run behind him. Then you would not listen leaving no time even to turn and shoot the appeal to the whole volume. A logical conclusion.
Well today 'the day of Pink Floyd and the backpack. I pulled out to go to the grocery store and I thought that he must go among the things to take away. We are in August. In September I leave for Moscow. To search for a job. On the one hand I want to leave many things behind and embrace new ones. I realize that I'm tired of the other to move forward and attack and I do not know where this backpack cock to the point that makes me think that it is a cornerstone of my life. The backpack. Or a song. Written by a group whose soul inspiration was undermined from the madness. Exactly. Although that album he did not take his hand. I think.
In short, the fact remains that I do not know what I want and sometimes I seem to get along without a plan, a plan, a will '. I feel so lonely I and my backpack. That we do not understand anyone. On the Run for the tenth time.
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