Diego Di Vincenzo was born in Buenos Aires. For 15 years he worked in the publishing industry: it went by Ediciones Santillana, the traditional Editorial Estrada (where he was general editor) and now, for Kapelusz editor, in which he serves as Manager of Content and Marketing in the area of \u200b\u200bEducation.
A PHOTO
What year was it? "2002, 2003? We are on a high from the road. Who took the picture? It is a medium shot, or perhaps a fourth (as a body, it is divided into four imaginary, and the image captures one of the four quarters).
We were walking along the beach. We would have arrived a few minutes earlier. That picture came to me in the eyes of those afternoons move. The location of this photo, the place I left for the move, and not mine. ("Belonging" here means: own frequency. A place I belong to the extent that I frequent, that I do own, so I should wither a part of this poor body of mine to remove these places and to take away with them. Wither is just rot, letting die).
Gesell Gesell that beach, the prefecture, was our departure from the long weekend.
many times I loaded my car with yours and mine friends, brothers, nephews and other friends. Driving on the road is boring. Mate gave me, a croissant. And a long song. Always sang patriotic marches, sambas and tangos intimate occasion. Twice I melted the car going to Gesell: could not drop below 140. Once, we just cast it, as soon as we reached the roundabout of Pinamar. We got a trailer which cost us 200 pesos, and the trip seemed long. Did you know that on other occasions, going to sea or Córdoba, for example (going without you, I say), he meant shaking? Suddenly, the body, the hands began to tremble, and the tremor would not let me catch a Rivotril. Now shoot a new body and tremble less.
From time to think, some motivated by a musical frenzy, that "my life is yesterday I stopped in the past." And I'm angry. I am angry "all" of "all my life." Or the "was for me a lifetime", which is a way of saying "life."
Pictured are very similar. Both with glasses, both fatter now (I fatter than now). From you I know almost nothing more than a year ago. Recently a friend told me she saw you, and I would have preferred not tell me anything because I dreamed that night turning Beauty, and in the dream I wanted to touch your back like you always played it, fascinated by the smoothness of a skin so pleasant to the touch. And you do not you let me. I said you better not, why. Pictured
I have a plaid shirt is ugly. Why did I put that shirt horrible and I do not care? What, really, what matters when love is installed in the daily life of one? What to eat? What movie to see? What day go to the house? I do not know. In any case, clothes do not. And if you knew the time it takes me to choose now, before leaving the clothes that I will.
I never told you when we were in the water, I was a little afraid that you went that far, you could drown, you did not know again. Then a little challenged you, you said you came back. We did it to touch each other under water, and laugh at this obscenity just a few meters of the people. I always go to the pier bored, as he said nothing. What else could be done on the coast rather than walking along the beach, soaking your feet in the sea, eat fish? My rite appellant, when I reach the sea, is another: take off my shoes and sit down and contemplate the whole of the sea (again with everything). I am still a good second. Sometimes I pray an Our Father. And breathe ... breathe the smell of fish, salt, iodine.
Now I think of that picture as when I look at the photos of my childhood. Are Nono guys ... all dead. I think in pictures, or grab some, when the holidays are coming. Last year I stayed in Buenos Aires for 31. I did not want to go home to my sister's aunt. I told my dad and my mom: You go. It was put as it were jumping into the void, because it would not pass the 31 alone. My dad told me in any way that I spent with him, that he had gotten the idea that this was the final year of his life. To me that scared me a bit. In the end, we had all three, with my mom and dad. My dad hugged me when it struck twelve, and whispered in my ear: Do not know what I cried for you this year. And yes, we are scared. To me the shock lasted me almost a year. The shock of the shoot. To give new shoots, I should wither and die first.
How long a life? "What does the love? That taught me a kid. There is no greater love than to give life, singing at 12, 13.
As the waves are breaking against the hatch and broke his glass box in which you had set. I had saved on the fragility of the box, and although I put the shirts and wrapping papers, also broke. It was long work of rebuilding. I spent every day to beat each of those windows (almost chips) broken.
The sea is like that which I tell you in vain. Comes and goes, the waves rise and fall, remove and clean. Do not think I've come Gesell. I do not think again. Least now it's summer. And we never liked to go in season.
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