From an early age I always had a good memory. I remembered almost everything. In elementary school, and later in junior high, I've never gone wrong at school. In history, geography, and other crap I did not like rivals. Mi bastava leggere una pagina qualsiasi e mi rimaneva subito in mente. Poi alle superiori la musica è cambiata, Concentrami era più difficile. Farsi le canne non aiuta da questo punto di vista. Diciamo che dai quindici anni in poi la perdita di memoria è stata graduale. Fino ad arrivare ad oggi, che non mi ricordo mai un cazzo e la memoria a breve termine è andata a farsi fottere da un pezzo. Inizialmente dimenticavo gli oggetti nei posti più strani. Poi inizi a dimenticare quelli più compromettenti, sotto gli occhi di tutti. In talune occasioni diventa difficile giustificarsi. Ancora più difficile da ricordare è poi, la giustificazione che ho usato, se mi viene richiesta in un secondo tempo. Non parliamo poi dei nomi delle persone. Me li faccio scordali three times to say anyway. The figures of shit that I did with several girls and several clients are countless. Lately I also forgot to pass customers' orders. Considering that the major part of my work, this fact has more or less the value of a driver who forgets how to drive. Let's say there is not as bad as the brain goes joyfully to hell. When I was really scared in the night between Friday and Saturday. I state that I was in a festive but not too much alcohol, I drank three Cuba libre. In a glass of beer, it is true, but they were still three Cuba Anyone who knows me knows I have done worse. However, I come away from Florence to go to Prato. Although there is a rather dense fog, I decided to do the highway, but normal road passing by Pistoia, San Donnino, Tennis, etc.. When I am about to Donnino, my bladder wanted revenge and I stop to pee. Date back in the car and look at the clock before you leave. These are 04:57. Allotment ... and then darkness. The memory is at 06:19 the next are just a few hundred meters from my house. I do not know what I did in those seventy-two minutes. I do not remember which way I did. I can not explain why it has taken all that time along a route that takes thirty minutes going up (very slowly). I do not remember stopping to sleep or I remember being distributed. The next day, I got afraid to look my car. I was afraid to see her beat her in some way, or maybe the body of an unknown attached to a wheel, luckily nothing. There were no scratches or dents, the fuel used was very little and I did a little 'more miles than usual, but nothing more. I redid the same route three times but I have not noticed anything strange. Now if you like sci-fi exclusive hypotheses to be abducted by aliens or have, through the fog, ended up in another dimension, only one question remains. What I did in those seventy-two minutes? And why does this guilt?
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