Alpine Connection Diagram

A frame or a story. Letter to

E' un dolore lancinante.
E' una vita intera che mi attraversa, quella passata e quella, incredibilmente imprevedebile, futura. Un san Luca che, in ogni caso, accompagna la chiusura per sempre di una vita, without knowing what you will, if ever there will still be open.
I would have to write so much, to tell the world that faces suddenly upon us, what we were before, what we've been in, what we were after.
I would tell an avalanche of hypocrisy of those who turn away and of those who look with contempt and disprezzante posting. On April 6
our beloved land has not held up over and a block of crust to the southwest of the plane flowed down to about 90 cm and resulted in the lowering of the ground surface. Eight kilometers of surface rupture, rupture of 25 km in depth. Moto highways, runway long, impressive acceleration, fault plane deep beneath the city, on the surface between San Gregorio and Paganica. A roar and then one thousand boats. A shock and then thousands of aftershocks. A scream and then thousands of screaming, blood, tears, debris, stones, kids, lists, research, expectations, individual lives and collective lives, the spots, the saviors of the fatherland and cons, speculators and their mirror speculators, gas, water, tents, night, the vultures of the state, local professional vultures, vultures sick for permanent perversion.
deep cracks. Unexpected collapse. Sconquassi sudden.
Cave, cave, vault, Tian, \u200b\u200bgardens, children, the 75, Peep, the Stockel. Where solar panels become
scoop, while the regional civil protection and civil engineering disappear under provincial track, including roles commissarial and bouquets of flowers.
A city ranked in buildings and for some even in the dead, a, b, c, d, e, f, with temporary structures in acronyms, homes, map, mar, musp and 4000 people still in tents.
A city where unions do not disappear when they become pro-spot area and forget the silences, "there are other priorities," the indiffirenza facing decades of struggle.
a city where almost everyone keeps even apply for leave, the responsibilities of others, do not ever questioning their own, perhaps unaware of having, not having understood the roles of all nodes in building a polis. A city where
proud, tough and courageous citizens are obscured by cunning, crafty and sharp operators tricking.
A city with almost all the indices deployed, with sleeves too short and always raised the same folder with the business.
A city that has a broken heart and propped up, and a brain synaptic space "sbracati" in a land increasingly stretched.
And a world that looks improvised sull'Aquila through windows, looking for a frame that tells a truth, while not knowing what it is instead a story, a long and harrowing story collective.
C'è la neve sul Gran Sasso, la nostra gelida acqua è come sempre abbondante, lo zafferano aspetta impaziente un raggio di sole caldo per farsi vedere, in questo assurdo duemilanove, in questo san Luca, ennesimo giorno d'emergenza, in attesa di un diverso domani.