prodouct: BATH
category: "wash me from all my sins and cleanse us from all sin"
The review concerning the usual syndrome cooling, take the highway this year: the hot bath in the bathtub. saving and hot, I wash by the nails of rain and sweat ... like a moth of the fire, but water. By tiptoeing. From small bathing often coincided with the winter Saturday night, combining willingly with RAIUNO of "Bet what?". Milly Carlucci and manic Fabrizio Frizzi faded with the hair dryer in an unreleased remix of warmth and were with the orange robe dry the antidote is more logical and commendable. Then when I entered the tub had a manic eagerness to avoid the ferment of the foam, I brought with me a handful of toys and the warmth of amphibians first contact with the water was always extreme and traumatic. Within the tips I said. The large water falls. As a child I was afraid of burning almost always. And it's the first thing I think about while your right foot soak: it is as if I had forgotten to think of something, by golly. Find other hand, heat as the ashes that disinfects and lavender. "Wash me thoroughly from all sins, cleanse us from all sin." Dirty water taken ill, the scrum, the diluted, the cutting by hand. My fingers icebreaker-shovel the iceberg of foam, soap atolls that beat, move, erase ... curled up in cascades, cutting, cutting, moving the sick thoughts that float between the temples. My-belly bagpipe breathing wave that then collide and massage me and pat me and not the dome. I hated the foam as a child - as a bit 'all happen to hate the sand - and cunning stratagems manic adopted to avoid it. I pulled up to an hour in water, as if I were in the pool, until you have le dita come fichi secchi. Mettevo in apnea le orecchie. Se ci avete mai fatto caso è la stessa sensazione che vi dava addormentarsi sul ventre della mamma durante una cena in famiglia; sentivo le voci filtrate dalla pancia come dall’acqua con conseguenze salutari e soporifere: cullano le onde di bassi fin dentro alle orecchie. Riuscivo a sentire finanche la tivvù, che allora ero innamorato di Lorella Cuccarini. Oggi mi tocca il telegiornale. Neanche Frizzi.
(Erik Chilly)
