write spontaneously, without thinking too much and decide the words. I told a lot about Naba'a on my Moleskine, but I have not posted anything yet. Naba'à is the neighborhood where I live, which I chose, which I accepted and I can not fix everything in two words. I can not do it but apparently many of us can very well: Naba'à is vulgar. So I told the taxi driver in first place tonight and I wonder what right ruling on where I live, that he should accompany me home in silence (I know I exaggerate but my pride in front of the heats). This is what I think. He began to discourse about my neighborhood (which I can only challenge, a bit 'like family, I can say fever and horns, but woe betide anyone who touches me!) With extreme arrogance and the presumption that I should respond to strength to his questions. I made the wall a lot and I have not replied as he spoke I thought of the lady in the shop where I buy fruit and vegetables, sometimes a bit 'dented but I buy from you because I know that her husband is sick and dying. I remember his words and his action of yesterday. I did not feel too fit and gave me a drink before saying his medicine, to swallow it and go to bed to rest and she was like my mother wanted me curassi. She has a husband who is ill. She says that when she sees me: "Italian weinik?" that is, where are you? To say we did not see me for a few days.
Then, the taxi driver, I asked him where he lives. Ashrafieh answers ... good neighborhood. I tell him that a house like mine in that region is twice as expensive, he says "three times." So I smile and think I'm lucky to pay one third and not be surrounded by vulgar people like him!
Then, the taxi driver, I asked him where he lives. Ashrafieh answers ... good neighborhood. I tell him that a house like mine in that region is twice as expensive, he says "three times." So I smile and think I'm lucky to pay one third and not be surrounded by vulgar people like him!
glimpse nabesco ... CONTINUE ...
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