The airplane left and crashed.
I would have liked it had never left, but like all good things have their origin in my head started to dance before the dj has placed the needle on the track of the disc. And now that I realized I also feel a bit 'stupid there just in the middle of the track.
I open my eyes and I realize that this was the music playing in my head, my favorite music, notes that go beyond the 88 keys of a piano, over 6 strings of a guitar, are those notes that only I I know, the most beautiful music that no one can ever make, that no artist could ever imagine.
The feeling that everything happens too fast.
The blow, the crash.
The hustle and bustle.
If you survive: the reality.
If you have made: the reaction.
These are the stages that characterize a crash and it is amazing how everything can happen in a few seconds. If I shot the balls you can understand by looking at him.
Calati Juncu spends about china.
Lu Juncu nun about the slope roots,
lu Juncu about it and haul it but 'ncula.
Calati rush to pass the full.
The rush does not eradicate the full,
the reed that bends and never bows.
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