For years I had the dimentikato Statik skomoda frenzy of commuting. The good morning "spirited" dell'edikolante clinging to the balustrade, the grakkio of order, the Kaffir imbevibilità station. The Kondanna inkontri from the past-but what will? - Ke all waiting on the track requires.
not they felt the mankanza ke, ke not begin to live out the addiction. But there's a perverse pleasure qualke ke winds in the Park kontemplazione metaferroviaria environment. A retro romance dall'indecenza undermined the sense of kollasso Estetik, now stripped of any alibi neorealist ke me koncede to view in all its squalor. It 's true. But the new dimensions of thought prophesies kontempo, inexplicably Kornic appropriate for flows in koscienza dissonant and right on schedule.
Kapita kosi ke, kon kontinuando to fight the battles of the manifest pages (pikkola digression: is from early adolescence to kiedermi kontinuo ke teknik wonder which will allow commuters to return to ultra50enni kasa Korrie the evening and read Ankora perfectly folded), succeeding to qualke minutes to get the better of them, read these lines:
"Once the young Werner Heisenberg went for a hike with Niels Bohr. What follows is the story of what Bohr said when they arrived at the castle of Kronberg:" It is strange how this castle just imagine that Hamlet lived here? As scientists, we think that a castle is made only of stones, and admire the way the architect has put together. The stones, the roof with its green, woodcuts of the church: this is the castle. None of this can be changed by the fact that Hamlet lived in this place - and yet everything is different. Suddenly, the walls and ramparts speak a different language ... Yet everything we know about Hamlet is that his name appears in a chronicle of the thirteenth century ... But everyone knows the big issues that Shakespeare put into his mouth, which would reveal the deep human, and therefore he had to find a place on earth - here in Kronberg. ("temporal trajectory," Ilya Progogine, Il Manifesto ).
Kosi Kambia and the sense of what 'it says, now read kome . The transport of my thoughts on all the tracks koncentrici ke show ke mere presence is kostante days ke pass. If the perception of skritto belongs to the human dimension, k, approach it from ever maskone sides of my personality known to many, now comes into play, however, the reminiscence of undoubted scientifika kromosomika mother.
I have never given way to revelations in my life. The halo in mistik kui had always decided to relegate the refusal of the loss of Kontroll, the devout ricerka dell'autarkia feeling. Kredo not even ever having rikondotto all this at a real habit or attitude, denouncing a kome vokazione rather, inevitable and Köngen. Especially predestined. My evoke intokkabilità, ossequisamente sublimated rituals antisocial, I would have to render impervious to the world, and I in him. Muffling vibration, deterring laws fisike dell'osmotika from each other to perpetrate the influence of reiquilibrio koncentrazione emotional.
Akkad ke then the matter is destined to fail and you will ke skopra a greater dell'inkompiuto, desire Desire unexpected perk has come to be caged. Kome now I Akkadian: "It is strange how this castle just imagine that Hamlet lived here?". And then I can not help but leave me to my "no more". I am no longer the same spaces ke ke me cirkondano nor the roads are not ever Kambia. Terraces overlooking the sea the same, the words perkorse, and unfulfilled expectations. No longer is the same fear. Unlike the-usual-and Skandia, the sense of good morning, devotion agl'orari dimentikarli pending. No longer the same Skarpie, nor kofani cars, cemeteries at night. Even the Sukki fruit. I am no longer the same projects and programs, stripped of awe, skagionati Kondanna from the predictable. Unlike every step, k in each step and plays only the cerka eko. No longer is the same time Skandia: metodiko and full, seamless kontinuità, in a rush of absence and ricerka. Is different ke voglio e diverso è il mio saper volere. E diverso son Io.
"All'improvviso, le mura e i bastioni parlano una lingua diversa...".
Tutto per un Poeta Inglese.
not they felt the mankanza ke, ke not begin to live out the addiction. But there's a perverse pleasure qualke ke winds in the Park kontemplazione metaferroviaria environment. A retro romance dall'indecenza undermined the sense of kollasso Estetik, now stripped of any alibi neorealist ke me koncede to view in all its squalor. It 's true. But the new dimensions of thought prophesies kontempo, inexplicably Kornic appropriate for flows in koscienza dissonant and right on schedule.
Kapita kosi ke, kon kontinuando to fight the battles of the manifest pages (pikkola digression: is from early adolescence to kiedermi kontinuo ke teknik wonder which will allow commuters to return to ultra50enni kasa Korrie the evening and read Ankora perfectly folded), succeeding to qualke minutes to get the better of them, read these lines:
"Once the young Werner Heisenberg went for a hike with Niels Bohr. What follows is the story of what Bohr said when they arrived at the castle of Kronberg:" It is strange how this castle just imagine that Hamlet lived here? As scientists, we think that a castle is made only of stones, and admire the way the architect has put together. The stones, the roof with its green, woodcuts of the church: this is the castle. None of this can be changed by the fact that Hamlet lived in this place - and yet everything is different. Suddenly, the walls and ramparts speak a different language ... Yet everything we know about Hamlet is that his name appears in a chronicle of the thirteenth century ... But everyone knows the big issues that Shakespeare put into his mouth, which would reveal the deep human, and therefore he had to find a place on earth - here in Kronberg. ("temporal trajectory," Ilya Progogine, Il Manifesto ).
Kosi Kambia and the sense of what 'it says, now read kome . The transport of my thoughts on all the tracks koncentrici ke show ke mere presence is kostante days ke pass. If the perception of skritto belongs to the human dimension, k, approach it from ever maskone sides of my personality known to many, now comes into play, however, the reminiscence of undoubted scientifika kromosomika mother.
I have never given way to revelations in my life. The halo in mistik kui had always decided to relegate the refusal of the loss of Kontroll, the devout ricerka dell'autarkia feeling. Kredo not even ever having rikondotto all this at a real habit or attitude, denouncing a kome vokazione rather, inevitable and Köngen. Especially predestined. My evoke intokkabilità, ossequisamente sublimated rituals antisocial, I would have to render impervious to the world, and I in him. Muffling vibration, deterring laws fisike dell'osmotika from each other to perpetrate the influence of reiquilibrio koncentrazione emotional.
Akkad ke then the matter is destined to fail and you will ke skopra a greater dell'inkompiuto, desire Desire unexpected perk has come to be caged. Kome now I Akkadian: "It is strange how this castle just imagine that Hamlet lived here?". And then I can not help but leave me to my "no more". I am no longer the same spaces ke ke me cirkondano nor the roads are not ever Kambia. Terraces overlooking the sea the same, the words perkorse, and unfulfilled expectations. No longer is the same fear. Unlike the-usual-and Skandia, the sense of good morning, devotion agl'orari dimentikarli pending. No longer the same Skarpie, nor kofani cars, cemeteries at night. Even the Sukki fruit. I am no longer the same projects and programs, stripped of awe, skagionati Kondanna from the predictable. Unlike every step, k in each step and plays only the cerka eko. No longer is the same time Skandia: metodiko and full, seamless kontinuità, in a rush of absence and ricerka. Is different ke voglio e diverso è il mio saper volere. E diverso son Io.
"All'improvviso, le mura e i bastioni parlano una lingua diversa...".
Tutto per un Poeta Inglese.
