I Traslochi my costringono to sporcarmi will mani di polvere, via stitching Buttaro inutili I keep only to remember, to think that this is the last time I moved, recur for the umpteenth time not to buy books and taking them to the library.
Moving is like making a record of time spent in a house, getting rid of leaves accumulated bills, concert tickets and photos.
The best part is to meet with the memories and relive feeling lost, tripping over a photo, a note pad, a note left by chance among the shelves.
Among these lost moments spent looking for the future ..
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