Guardo sitcom da sempre. Assiemeai libri, sono state le principali fonti da cui ho cercato di imaprare a gestire le mie relazioni di amicizia. E uelle (poche) sentimentali che ho avuto. Non seguire i loro insegnamenti e fare cio' che mi diceva la mia testa mi ha portato a troncare una relazione. Non so se quel che c'era con quella persona, ad oggi, sarebbe qualcosa di diverso. La mia testa mi dice di no, che se non ha accettato la mia sincerita' allora, non avrebbe accettato

Samia and Ali went out in the afternoon, against the rules of their families. The two wee children met some fundamentalists not too much older than them. Samia didn’t dress the veil, while Ali was dresses with some hand-me-down cloths. Only Ahmed, Nssir’s friend and Hodan’s secret love, saved them. The chapter ended informed the reader that Samia and Ali ate a different food from usual: rice and vegetables. Ebony Niggers Chub Hand-me-down Boldly Lanky Shove Gutsy Fatso Shadow

Samia explained in the second chapter to us how is the life during the war for children, for families. She said the war takes away from her life the sea, even if she was born near to it. The war didn’t take away from her the games with siblings, with friends, the school, but most important to her, the war didn’t takes away from her the desire to run. Running is my sea. Even this chapter is ending with the desire of peace and freedom, this time through the singing voice of a S

Two eight years old children playing together. He asked her to be her sister. She replied he has to kiss her. He did it. They are brother and sister now. Even if the families they are belonging are from different tribes, the same ribes that started a war exactly some days before children were born, March 1991. Due bambini di otto anni stanno giocando insieme. Il bambino chiede alla bambina di diventare sua sorella. Lei risponde che per far cio’ lui le deve dare un bacio. Lui

Meetings in life are never dominated by casuality: if you think better, each of them gives you some teaching. Last Saturday I had to go in the library of my little town and I told to myself to avoid to see books as always. As always, my sight was captured by a the title of a book written by Giuseppe Catozzella, that I didn't know yet. Later, I discovered the author was born in Milan not many years before me. I am reading it as the most starving reader in the world, despite I