just got to the station, I immediately struck the incredible stench of piss.
People, gray, was expelled from the trucks, gray, and laid in this city, more gray.
not really miss the beginning of class.
Better raise your heels and out of the gate of the bicycle storage.
are outside the free zone.
I am in the city. An oriental woman gives
stomach on the sidewalk in the border and is supported by what is, perhaps, would be his companion.
A welcoming committee of exception, no doubt about it, I thought to myself.
at a good pace I walked to the university, with determination imbracciai mp3 player and gave me a nice office with a healthy dose of music. From what I was wretched
pedestrian (and which still are), I faced the hyper-mega-maxi-crossing with great contempt of danger, with somersaults and pirouettes on the hoods of cars and trucks and motorcycles between spectacular pirouettes.
The road was monotonous, and straight to my destination. The only hints of color were the record shops and two nearby high school students: mostly boys assembled as best, posing as great lords in the mouth with blond hair and even a little face on the beard.
After the road and crossed the parquet, I come victoriously at the university, the temple of knowledge, the house of knowledge, the terraced house of education, the building of culture ...
ground floor. Utter desert. There is none. The classrooms are all on the upper floors.
And so I just have to enter the elevator and transported, elevated to a new form of knowledge. I imagine an almost ethereal atmosphere and idyllic separate students who discuss current affairs, history and contemporary literature, pretty girls about philosophy, art and politics ...
The elevator door opened. My
turbosogni were interrupted by a couple of shaves and they were talking about the "Big Brother".
A blow below the belt.
with dismay and disgust, I leave and I head for the sacred coin-operated machine that, thanks to mysterious alchemical processes, would then deliver coffee sorely desired.
Neanchei time to put hand to the door-coins that are caught by a tamarro. The degree of Ingell hair and the amount of brief exposure to the public understand that it was a "Tabbozzo grade 5.
Hey you, she says, want to buy an eyeball?
No, I do not think I can serve, I say with a certain uneasiness.
're eye, you may need them in the future, he is showing me a dirty flick boxcutter gelatine and blood. Then she goes to bother some other unsuspecting freshman like me.
Something that I definitely can not fail to note is the exceptional abundance of women. The corridor
it is full. You
horde that has made a real invasion.
And I'm alone, abandoned to my fate against this murderous tide.
of girls there are for all tastes.
Fighine, all drawn, as if they were going to dance in the most famous clubs of the Riviera.
Punk-rocker, but few present, praising to Sid Vicious. Their backpack is covered with a harlequin brooches and pins.
"normal", however, are remarkable for their simplicity, their elegance, the charm of their gaze, or the ease with which you put her hair behind her ear.
After this rush of hormones would start absolute time of the first lesson. All
classroom!
The room was full of frightened sheep. I try to make bolder knowledge, to identify and identify with the group.
I'm just a vague point in the pile.
all ask the same question: how will the prof?
Alto? Skinny? With bowler hat and monocle? With a green blazer? With the white shoes with blue polka dots? I pictured myself, imagining it with a robe, white, emanating its own light, his face sweating wisdom, with hands that fluttered in the air at high concepts to explain, his voice quiet but peremptory that he refreshed our minds hungry for knowledge. My
rinstupidimento was come to his senses from the entrance of the teacher in the flesh. A man
medium size, ripe, with black hair on his head exploded, but small eyes darting, shielded by thin glasses.
not have any but a green blazer jacket lanaccia leaden and her blue polka dot shoes are not real but fake leather brownish, chestnut type.
Gentlemen, welcome to the university, said in a voice baritonante. The style and composure are the same as the presenter of the international festival of military bands.
His papers are laid on the desk: books, folders and leaflets are on the table like a whale stranded on the shore.
This is for you the beginning of a long and difficult, you will be the future leaders, said gonfianfo the chest. The latter
sketched a statement puzzled smile. I'm in the "future leaders"? Well, I have some doubts about it.
Around me, many seem to my own opinion.
Some chewing gum, on the banks who made artistic "fool the reader, who winks at women, who are dedicated to aeronautics paper and those who, like me, writes cavolatelle (all really happened), without thinking too much about.
So began a new challenge.
will be interesting to have a real purpose.
will tackle challenging topics more exciting as the prospect of amenities or accidental processes of rock formation: I remember with great regret the times when I had to relate with things like the old days.
Now it differently: the study is now almost competitive. I approach new subjects that intrigue me, tickle me and give me a little push to go further, to move forward more and more the sign. I challenge myself, I look and see where I can get.
It is a thrill, a pinch, a shock, that is simply indescribable.
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