I hate New Year's

Every morning, when I wake up again under the coat of heaven I feel it's New Year's to me.

That's why I hate these new years with fixed scans that transform human life and soul into a commercial company with its own benefit, balance and promise of new administration.

There's been a continuation of a new history novel, and they're making proposals, and you're sorry for the hard work. This is bad for dates.

They say chronology is the bone of history and it can be accepted. But it is also necessary to accept that there are four or five basic dates that are well - placed in each person's mind that have hit history hard. It's also those new years. New years of Roman history, or medieval, or modern - day.

And so many invaders and fossils have become as much as we ourselves are surprised when we sometimes think that life in Italy began in 752, and that in 1490 or 1492 as mountains of humanity that passed through suddenly in a new world entering a new life. So the date turns into a barrier on a board that prevents you from seeing the story that continues to develop in the same essentially steadfast line, without violent bans, such as at the cinema when the movie is expected and there is a wave of fake lights.

So I hate the new year. I want every morning to be a new year for me. Every day I want to do my own calculations to revive every day. No default day for rest. I choose vacations myself, when I feel drunk of intense life and I want to do a dive in my instincts to regain power.

No spiritual spelling. Every hour of my life I want to be new, but connecting with the past. I don't want a day of collective parties forced to break up with all strangers who don't care.

Because he's having a party with our grandparents... we should feel the need for the party. This whole thing got my stomach mixed up.

I also expect social equality for this reason. Because I'm going to waste all these dates that already have no reflection in our souls, and they're going to create others, they're going to be at least our own, not the ones we should accept without any advantage of the inventory of our foolish ancestors.

(Antonio Gramshi (1891-1937), was the founder of Italian left. This yeartext in 1916 was drawn from Brizida Gjikondi)