I was convinced that the spider man for four months, between May and August dell'ottantanove exactly. I was not talking to anyone and I sat all day holed up in the damp corners of the house. I attended the garages and cellars, lofts and basements. I knew I had superpowers typical spider man, those of which we are all familiar with through TV or comics, but in fact they never used them. Can not rule out that I was crazy, that my brain had been twisted, melted, rotten, expired, pecked by birds, wasps' nest, which fell into the spine to the ankles and lost in my socks. In short, you understand. I mean when you become deaf and swinging down the street and pick up cigarettes and eyes rotate quickly and rotate along the axis like a globe. So you say you are crazy, stupid, ricchione, anarchic, Southerner, and pathophobia. View objects that move and talk to your VCR, but especially you are sure to be Spider-Man. Smears on a wall and throwing cobwebs hang from the chandelier and leave the house via the window. Cross the street swinging on a spider web and people see only the blue and red of your suit that is reflected in the beautiful sky. Being Spider-Man is not for everyone and can not be said for all mica. It takes a normal work habits and discrete. The first required capacity for the spider man is camouflage, to blend into the crowd and carry on quietly in traffic and offices. To be like others you'll need to sweat like the others and wake up early in the morning. Nothing would take to pull off the web and fiuu cross the road and take fiuu underground. Being Spider-Man means being first and foremost a man. Of course if I had tried to launch a web or a subway stop in the race, as in the film Spiderman, which then means more Spider-Man, I knew from my wrists there would not be able to leave anything other than my blood that I was foolish. And even the superforce never actually used it. When the elevator in my condo did not work I went up three floors on foot and in the end my heart went crazy in the box chest and shortness of breath forever. Never used it but not super powers. At that time I worked in a supermarket and put labels on the boxes with the prices. I knew the prices of memory products. Philadelphia 1700 pounds, 1400 pounds Tuna star pack of 100 grams, Tuna star 200 gram super discount family pack 2100 pounds (bargain), toothpicks Tiger brand pack of 400 lire 2000. The supermemoria was a superpower, but I had not noticed to be spider man and I just thought to be quite intelligent, that's all. Of course I moved deftly through the shelves of the supermarket and when I wanted I could get behind our customers without making a single noise. I would have been a great servant of the supervision of the supermarket but also an excellent accountant and a good teller. The supermarket could count on me. I often stop and think about my physical characteristics, since nothing about these capabilities that I poked and burned my skin in search of your own space. For example, every time I went out in the parking lot of the supermarket and did a long run and crowds to the exit. After the machines were operating from the parking areas and dodge trolleys abandoned in the clearing as remote atolls in the ocean. Be impressed by the speed with which they reach the exit and how easily avoid obstacles that lay before me. Some stopped to watch and will be impressed by my performance. Then I came home all sweaty in my warehouse to repackage expired products to be allocated to humanitarian foundations of the third world and to label salami, toilet paper, razor blades and rat poison. A hot afternoon of resistance to cold, I fell asleep on the packaging. The boxes soft were a good place to sleep and certain hours of the day, when you went back fatigue from the knees up in the back, just very little to lose sleep. I came so sweet to us without even realizing it slipped and dreams confused with reality itself in the confusion of lights and shadows. While senile sank into the swamp of dreams, something I brought to light. An annoying itch on his right arm. I went to scratch and I saw a big spider walking down my arm and stuck to my hair. The scacciai now with your other hand and feet with winds that devil went to spring up in the boxes. Anger began to jump on the empty boxes and that bastard with thirty feet of nothing had become one with the lineolum who was lying on the ground in the store. I remained nervous throughout the day and worked with more zeal and more energetically than usual. Alone I arranged something like eighty cans of tuna in twenty minutes, all directed by the label to the outside of the rack and stack perfectly. I placed also some dry food for cats and boxes of soap cha rotting in storage for months. I felt his biceps bulge and come out the veins and boxes of biscuits flying read in my arms. A great force was vibrating in my muscles tense as steel. So I wanted to test myself and went to the animal department to arrange the bags of sand for cats for ten pounds each. Could to carry two at a time and with what grace! I returned home through the neighborhood quickly, so fast that people could hardly Appoint me as I felt around on the retina and the view was long coming to focus also objects to ten meters and the short-sightedness that has always haunted me seemed to fade and significantly reduced. Something in me was changing. Fatigue caught me off guard on the bed and slipped back into nothing in the dark and impenetrable sleep. I made a convulsive sleep and full of confused images. Metaphors mingled with good and bad omens when you wake up drenched in sweat, the sheets bore witness to the struggles of my neurons. I woke up with a solid vibrating erection in the middle of the thighs and I stayed a couple of minutes in bed waiting for everything to normal to move house. Whence came that strength? What was happening? Taken scratch the bubble that had formed on his arm and suddenly I understood. The bite of the spider in the back of the supermarket I had new energy and commitment I was now to be turning into a sublime! My revenge on the world and all those who said I was stupid to take away from that spider. And the bottom is not really that surprised me because in my heart I was sure to be special, and the superpowers have always harbored in me even if only now becoming aware. I felt all the smells of the earth and all the sounds and I could understand the thoughts of the cat by putting a hand on his head. The prodigy that he was doing was miraculous.
I spoke with one of the maintenance department refrigerators. His name was Andrew and he told me once that he could speak with the dead. It's not that we speak properly, in the sense of a real debate, but he could establish a connection with them through the waves of celebration. They were the dead that were put in touch with him and he could only listen to them without being able to ask them questions. He had bought a book that dealt with the paranormal to read up on his case, and had discovered that a one-way medium. According to the book he was a kind of receiving antenna between two different sizes. When he told me, I believed him and then had a claim against him. I told him that I had to tell him one thing and that we should speak for themselves. He understood that it was something delicate and stayed all day in silence until we had the opportunity to speak for themselves. I told him everything. I told him that I was Spider Man. At first, Andrea was left baffled, and said that I was completely mad. That bastard of a visionary who dared to speak with the dead tell me that I was the fool. He said that I needed to get out and go to women and to stop being alone with these fantasies. I yelled after him in the face of women I could have as many as I wanted and I was disappointed because I thought he was a person more sensitive than others and since we had that thing was just one of the dead shit and maybe it was him who needed to go to women. I worked like a rabid dog all day and moved tons of sand bags for cats just for the sake of moving them. Customers of the supermarket sensed my envy and held at bay in their ideal range of distance from danger. If only I could I would turn everything into a giant cocoon of cobwebs. However I was sure that my will would be enough to do it. Andrea took my ass all day and every time we pass the store, pretending to climb the walls, or put you on the ground to walk like spiders. It was from that day that did not speak to anyone. With anyone. People thought I was crazy, and my aphonia made them crazy, but I keep a secret. I left work and I rintanai in my room. I planned things and big plans to save people and to restore order in the city. Everything was simple in my eyes and the spark of madness had made me blind now, away from any glimmer of intelligence and sense of reality. I went on in these conditions for another three months. I was thin and sharp bones sticking out from under the skin, the muscles that I thought steel had collapsed and they were dried, attached to the bone with the cotton of my visions. The only night I had nightmares and the fear of the dark. I felt anger at all, and was looking for revenge for the crimes that had not yet suffered the injustices and who still had not come upon me. I began at that time watching television, especially the show. I preferred them to the movies because I had the time to learn the character and familiar. So while I was with eyes drawn by the flourishes in the cracks saved, watched TV all day. At eleven o'clock in the morning on three rai gave the lady in yellow. "Murder She Wrote" was the title of the series, but in Naples called the lady in yellow. The protagonist Jessica Fletcher was a lady about sixty in each episode that was to do with a murder. Often when the body was not part of his circle of acquaintances, was summoned by his friend the policeman who asked her to help him solve the case. Jessica Fletcher was old and wrinkled, but he had nerve and courage. She did not need any super power to solve mysteries, but Spider-Man, he used only his powerful mind and a capacity to process murder incredible dynamic. His secret was the experience. Jessica Fletcher, the rough and almost dead Jessica Fletcher c'aveva balls and was out of this discussion. There was no lawyer who killed his wife rich accountant who killed his wife, rich, rich doctor who killed his wife that he was able to escape the intuition detective Jessica Fletcher. I remained very impressed by an episode where a gay hairdresser killing her rich boyfriend. The plot was very complex and unpredictable ending. I began to take notes for the new plots to bring the production of the show. In one morning I wrote a whole where the protagonist was a butcher and kill the rich wife. The title of the episode was "thread in the blood." I had a more proletarian and I liked the episodes set in a social context that popular because the audience is reflected more. I gave it my way to the literary imprint telefim. Finally I wrote a masterpiece with a strong autobiographical reasons, was called "Murder in the supermarket" where a worker assigned to the warehouse, after repeated provocations by a colleague of his mentally unstable, killed in the parking lot of the supermarket with bags of flints for cats. Jessica Fletcher pecked the murderess and hear his explanations do not denounced as intentionally caused by the mentally unstable. Autocensurai some scenes of explicit violence where the protagonist of the brain crumbled psychologically reducing the soupy consistency. Rilegai imbustai everything and in a large manila envelope. I sent the yellow envelope to the study of Rai Tre in Naples, where every day Jessica Fletcher turned the episode and waited. It was from that time onwards, I decided that I would become a private investigator.
0 comments:
Post a Comment