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Empty


The items are missing, the breathing stops between the teeth for days, freed only by cries of terror and fear. Dad is dead. Dead. Dead.

Every hope, every anger, every feeling disfigured by toil of bygone days to tell an impossible life, no longer has any meaning. No sense. No sense. Death. Absolutely no return. Final posting ...

nightmare with open eyes between Jimma and Addis 5 months ago between blacks and rivers of mud huts of mud and bitter reality is the beloved father who seemed reborn in the body corrupted by the disease ended his days. No need to write anything, you just need to smudge the black all day and draped in mourning the sun. My loving father is no longer with me, nothing else matters.
One day, not now, I'll write about him ..

Goodbye Daddy, protect me from up there in heaven, help me I hope I can still see again.

your Holy

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In memory of a hero

Life is the woman who loves you, the wind in your hair, sun on your face, the walk night with a friend. Life is also a woman who leaves you, a rainy day, the friend who deceives you.
I am neither melancholic nor manic depression - died horrifies me, unfortunately what I have left is no longer life - is only a stubborn and senseless obstinacy maintain the biological functions.
My body is not mine ... is there, spread before doctors, carers, relatives. If I were Swiss, Belgian or Dutch I could escape from this utter outrage, but I'm Italian and there is no pity.

Piergiorgio Welby

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I read a post a few months ago, I was wondering where is this rule which prevents a man to decide his own life but at the same time prevents him to survive with dignity .. Welby remember, that hero calendar year to which Italy is very intelligent and secular.
After forty days the bitterness of the confirmation of my intuition and I gripped the language in goose bumps.
A "hole organizational" He called a doctor today Lecce: Italy in the facilities to accommodate patients in a vegetative state are hardly any input and filters to accept only those cases "minor", with prospects of life and recovery acceptable to attract funding and conventions.
"Too few places to accommodate those who have no hope" I have heard yesterday from the mouth of yet another "luminary" of yet another clinic, in fact, breaking down each margin of hope ..
and Dad got all this week for the sixth or seventh time he tried to remove the noise in this state of shit that does not deserve it .. but his body is strong and resists, and gave the system another chance at redemption ..
But we have always been a nation of mediocre and fixer?
and the Renaissance did not teach anything to these generations of dwarves?
If so then my children will grow up anywhere else!