Address: Via dei Macci 111r · Firenze, FlorenceDate: Thursday 14 February 19:30 - 22:30
There are innumerable ways of living and interpreting love.
There are those who have the harem (many loves at the same time).
There are those who are bigams (two loves).
There are those who are monogamous (a love only).
There are those who question their love because they feel attracted by an ass: "Wow ... why I look at the ass of that? But then I do not really love my girlfriend? I miss something? Cavoli, I'm in crisis! ".
Someone has gone to hell in the red light district of Amsterdam and returns to his wife because he is able to separate the two perfectly. If you ask him: "Sorry but you went to hell ?! BUT does not your wife love her? »-« BUT what the fuck has to do with it !!!? !!!? »She answers.
There are those who can accept that their partner is the pornstar.
There are those who can not accept that their partner is a waitress ... too many males!
There is the guy who has questioned his love because he has looked at an ass and manages to accept the fact that his girlfriend is a waitress and customers watch her ass.
But the guy who fucked up considers a whore his wife because he wore high heels, which he claims are porn stars.
There are those who after a lifetime still love as if it were the first day.
Who instead as if it were the sixth day, not really very presumed but almost ...
Who as if it were the twenty-eighth day.
Who no longer loves for days, even years, but does not admit it to his partner or to himself because he thinks: "But then what the fuck do I do?".
There are those who after thirty years of relationship still call their partner Love: "Love, let's go to sleep?", "Love buy me cigarettes?", Because after thirty years he still loves it.
There are those who after sixty years of relationship still call their partner Love: "Love my dentures?", "Love bring me slippers", because after sixty years ... do not remember what the hell is called.
Love feels and lives in a different way.
There is what you leave and go out with another one after a week and the poor former abandoned, not knowing what to do, the car burns ... because he still loves it!
There is the one who burns his wife alive because he left him ... but because he still loved her (then they say that you do not die of love).
Mica is the love that kills ... it's the fire.
There are women who have waited for her husband for twenty years, like Penelope, because their love had gone to war, no news, twenty years.
There are those who leave the boy because he did not send him the goodnight message or because they have not seen each other for three days. "Listen, I'll never see you, I'll leave you!"
There are those who are totally blinded by the love that if they saw the happy partner while illegally shooting a giraffe would be able to support him in his project to exterminate the animal species too high, and would lightly destroy the ecosystem for a smile of the partner.
Instead, there are those who love the other as part of the whole, and they experience love as a vast and divisible feeling, and think of life as a gift, a joy to be enjoyed with the loved one.
Some say that love is chickpea broth.
Who says it is a breaded cutlet with a side dish of vegetables.
"You eat the chickpea broth ... I want the cutlet!"
But after all, who knows what love is?
Everyone has his own.
Everyone chooses it.
So right love is what you choose.
Just have faith.
We are waiting for you at the theater!
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This page may have been translated using the Google automatic translate engine; please excuse any mistakes this translation might have.