Rome is the only city in the world where real Marxism exists. Are you going to sleep? I went to bed at 10:30 last night, I don't know what to do now, the morning always makes me confused. There is always something happening in Rome, and that is nothing happens. Broken lives, lies and fragility. Observer of the city. This sensitive writer. Do I look like a failure? When I listen to myself, I feel like a failure. What is your horoscope? Very nervous lady. Aquarius. I knew it! Want to go back to the rainy end of August 30 years ago? Good works of art in Rome, and in the whole country, are treasured. Where are Andrea's friends. Sea on the ceiling. I am old now, who will take care of me now. Maybe Rome wasn't quiet enough for me to continue writing. I spent all summer preparing for September with no further plans, and now my summer is spent reminiscing about the goodwill that has faded, partly because of burnout, partly because of carelessness, what's wrong with nostalgia? This is the only pastime for someone who has no faith in the future, there is no rain, August will end, September has not yet begun, and I am so ordinary, but there is no need to worry, it will be alright. Disappearing giraffe. I can't make you disappear, it's just a trick, otherwise why don't I make myself disappear. I'm leaving, and I don't even want to pack my luggage. They asked me for many years why I stopped writing a novel, but look at these people, this savage life! This is my life, nothing.
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