I fall often.
sometimes even three times a day.
And do not think this should diminish with anything! I'm talking about falling in love, not love, but that is the same.
see. I happen to fall in love with perfect strangers. On the tram, in a clinic at the university.
Just a moment. Two large eyes. A nice nose. A special air. Details.
details that remain impressed.
suppose to stop, talk and discover that behind those big eyes, that cute nose, the 'Air particular, those details, there is so much more.
Who knows what music you listen, if you like sushi, Marquez and red beer.
prefers to stay in bed I wonder whether above or below, if it is shy or bold, naive or expert.
I racked my brains all day there, sometimes just the time to look through.
And when I say I'm in love, I do not mean to say, he deceived me, or detract the scope of the word I use. There is word that it is more correct than that.
I fall in love.
Certainly, the fact is I do not fall in love with accidents, but the substance. Let me explain. It 's a chance that the girl in the tram will have their eyes blacks, one that goes with the white dress in the hallways of the clinic at the nose' upward, and that the ice cream man has long hair the color of honey. Are accidents, 's note.
the substance is the woman. Accidents and substance, not comfortable?
Then it happens that sometimes able to overcome my shyness and imbranataggine invincible and still real.
On the train, the 'last time I came back from Spoleto, in front of me sits a girl, say a twenty years'. It 's beautiful. He has gray-green eyes, curly brown hair color of chestnut honey. Nosed but straight, aristocratic. Air with a funny and sexy. He wears a white blouse with the sleeves a bit 'puffy, jeans and a cigarette. He hands treated with enamel red. He wears sandals to scream. I fell in love.
I look better, it is a familiar face.
think. It 's a girl in my religion period of the parish. Was smaller than obvious, and then it was a very pretty girl.
Today is simply beautiful.
While the Virgin Prunes and the Sister of Mercy (absurdly apt soundtrack) will happen in my i-pod I observe it. Dozing. E 'irresistible.
guess warm voice and expressive may have, how sweet and gentle manner. I guess it is on that train to go to his apartment for non-resident students, to study for the 'consideration. I guess it is something related to the letters, maybe old, but I would say modern. A perfect picture in my head.
get to the station I see that has a huge suitcase, I volunteer to help and take this' opportunity to ask her if she remembers me.
I actually said that yes, you remember. The problem is that she tells me with an annoying high-pitched voice with a heavy emphasis Umbria.
and chat a bit 'tells me that he was in Rome for a course of "aesthetics", which for a deeper analysis (silly I thought I was some sort of Master of Philosophy) turns out to be a course for beauticians. And to the 'sudden known the tune of a butterfly tattoo on' forearm, and a host of other defects. That before, I swear, there 'were.
's all over. The accidents have outperformed the substance.
Sometimes I think that if De Andrè, Brassens or rather, had really tasted the lips of all those beautiful passing, instead of regret would have been a lot of remorse.
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