I wonder how the youth learn to live carefree. It 's beautiful: concetriamo lightness, we all play with. Last night I saw people who tried the same thing I was looking for, or rather, I realized only after I looked around. When you are in a busy environment, get away from your group, try to leave time for some attention to the point of people who make you feel safe in the midst of a bunch of strangers and for a moment become observers, like a wave among the waves. At that moment it was as invisible, and become the same person who comes upon us when we're all crammed together and they dance and make fools, the same person who let them pass, the same person who casually asks in turn that there you have it or not. And just when you allotanate from your group, from a reliable and safe in the crowd becomes an oasis in the desert, here you start to see people. And it's there, I wondered how people search. I understand that in general the entertainment, beer is more to two gestures, to talk about more of less, of emptiness, of something that should be fun - or the place itself makes you become - with the person who wishes to barely in the other day, just because you know little, maybe. Among them all become friends, all unknown in the crowd we detect it, why try to form another group, another quiet spot, another fixed point, in the midst of chaos. Like the fact of going out to smoke. People look for fun and out to smoke in order to balance the time of invasion of other people, of all those micromomenti of tranquility that jumble of people get together, we try to fight back and restore with constant moments of disconnection. All waves They crash against us. People are a sea, not only in the figurative sense but also in the essentiality of the composition. Unbelievable. Everyone is looking for entertainment and who just need a beer because it is being among the people that makes you feel good, see other people makes you feel alive, even if in the end you talk all night with the same friend that you came, tuttto Keep away from those appearances are critical to the long day, and locked in a carouse all those things put together made us tired. We are looking for something magical in the evening, which results in a series of repeated conduct, at a given moment becomes an evening routine of the evening. " Other people are looking for leisure otherwise, because that becomes a reason that feeds leisure behavior, including what to look for a tranqullità : whether a woman or a man or a drug. But everything revolves around the distraction of each other, everything becomes an elegant evening, "it becomes a behavior - almost religious regularity of attacks on martial discipline - in our future that differs only by minor and fun memories, or we assume such. Maybe other people see them just pathetic, mediocre or perhaps not worthy of any consideration. At the end there's just people drinking, and this indissoluble element of the socialization of local needs, and makes you meet again even people who make you look nice when you see your own makes you nervous. Why are you in "good night" where everyone has a script and precise goals and timetables, micro movements of the masses inevitable, directed by unwritten rules, but only for the purpose of incotrare people - so that will be the same as before only in random order sometimes coupled in different ways - why we need to create that chaos (or bar-a-wave to stay in theme, haha!), from which we are attracted like bees to honey. It 'great to be together with music, dancing, messy, in microspaces, where even the scoodinazione can have a beauty and a sense of his own - at least my case, but some people I envy that he can dance in the space of a napkin with the natural human and hardly out of all the laws of physics, mah! coma do? - Where the failure of socialization leads to the grotesque mass of dumb (but non-silent) that are covered with layers of musical notes (apparently known as the hit of the moment) and mint leaves and ice stools (apparently known as the mojito) Yet this chaos is perfectly outlined and ordered what we seek, is what makes us fun. And 'what to look for drugs by a fever of gold (or Saturday night? Haha! Today I'm tearing up!) That we can meet in the next room or in the next cocktail, or the next song, hoping to put on "that beautiful this summer" or that "I like a casino" or that I know, "the chorus and I can do the hard pretending that I know everything and it seems that I pass the years and I am with headphones. " So in the end they won only women: they are the only ones who can be affixed oridnate and perfect even when we humans now the hair is uncombed like Galbanino open for two days, even when we take off the jacket to costrettu because it is certain that the size will inevitably secure and can tolerate more than the shirt, we dissolved the movements as much as a penguin in a football soap, while they drink through a straw and not be thrown to the ground, the belt-shoes-coordianzione earring is sacred and inviolable, they do a sharp smile and a joke and safe, even after the third beer when we go for simple patterns, fleeting and primary schools. The only thing we can do well, that all the men I saw coming out with a degree of naturalness is ordering a drink: elbow on the bench to score between the outpost and won races distrattezza others and pushing balls simulated by others, smile and gesture of attention / kindness / and guardacheiodevoancoraordinare and iltipoeradopodime, 20 or 50 € - for those who flaunt or can throw in a flash our five hours of daily work-in hand to show him who is thirsty, all crowned by word "vice" with the one that accompanies you on duty to take a drink. The beauty is that this is what we want and that you can not change, because that is what makes us fun. No, no blame and no sadness - for me as I made the evening truly memorable - but I'm off to watch, I'm watching as the ice is always in the glass too. No problem if this evening or tomorrow morning everything will be under the rule of uncertain steps and tired eyes: it's just a tattoo of a lovely evening.
