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Dec 27, 2014 08:42

Talk with people, if you want to love them
but let people talk to you
if you want to be loved by them.
Dark night, desert streets, funny lobos asking for a change
violet carpets and High street on Christmas Eve,
everything`s in its right place.
Good people stay inside at night, apparently.
Carols were sung, sermons said, and shadows revealed,
go and tell over mountains Jesus Christ is born, Halleluja.
The minister is a serious Indian guy that opens all the a sound
like an Italian but he seems less proud and stupid than a regular
Italian, or maybe it is because Christmas.
During Christmas I` ve heard funny Miami gangsters`stories
in a vernacular Spanenglish which I get more than English itself.
But who speaks good English in this town?
Professors are foreigners and students too, and when not, they run away busy and leave me alone with my English`s appetite and my Italian well marked pronunciation.
So, the first semester, I tried to speak with people who weren`t speak to me. And they were nice. But the bartender`s lesson stings as her piercing and her eyes. Don`t talk to people let them talk to you.
Was she harsh to me?
Not at all! I was silent all day and I noticed that she liked me most because, good or ill, I am the teacher now, I am not the student anymore.