are the 3.56 and I just finished re-reading all the posts made on this blog since January 17, 2005, the day of his birth, to today. My self-esteem has increased a lot. Not so much for content as for the way they are written. Yes, I sleep and instead I autocompiaccio of my ability as a writer. Oh well.
Rereading I was reminded all situations, as well as dozens of others who were there, there in the middle. And I realized that a reader of this blog probably does not know me in real life see me as a crazy lunatic who changes his mind constantly. Which is pretty much the same way I see dozens and dozens of people who know me in real life, that tease me with phrases like "where in the world you are today, rootless bastard?". I realized that is not so easy to describe their thoughts and how they change in a blog or in real life is not easy to explain to others what strange mental processes it has come to their conclusions. But I know them. Ok, maybe not perfectly, maybe a few times I did the rounds not so strange to realize where I was going, but in any case are perfectly able to reconstruct the stages that led me to be what are, doing what I do. This blog helps me. In fact, since January 17, 2005 have changed several things, and most of these changes (but how much I love that word?) Have been treated extensively in these pages. Only posts that always talk about what happened after the development of an idea. There is the HOW, but WHAT. And that is why a reader could not understand much. An acquaintance instead becomes even more difficult, because you see me act without knowing why, let alone know how I managed to do it.
In the end, nobody really knows why I ended up in Milan. Let's be serious, what the fuck am I doing in Milan? I've always disgusted as a city. The curious thing is that we are born. But I never imagined in Milan at the threshold of my twenty-two. Nor to attend the San Raffaele. Psychology? Only in my dreams. In short, a series of strange (sometimes unfortunate) events led me to the city of Madunina, with an obnoxious laptop backpack, as a student private university for excellence in an undergraduate course on which I rely but that does not trust any of my loved ones. All too strange, too different. And then, to maintain a link with the past life, Guess where I am now, at 4:09 in the morning?
But at Bologna, Where else? No, I have not yet detached. I still have my room full of my things, I have my sister, my cousin, mtc, marta, practically everything that has turned my life around in recent years. I should already be in Milan today, but I delayed a day, which, recalling Ferrara, makes me smile a lot. The excuse is that my evening came, the whole family tomorrow Andrea + + + Marine Surveyor will head to Via Borgonuovo, where she awaits the new home of my sister. Actually I only used this thing to not return to Milan. I did not really want in reality. I'm still without a stable system, when I'm at home with my aunt (but how many aunts I cursed?) And although I feel comfortable in the end I broke a bit 'my balls. which reminds me of the various outlets and Scazzi between me and my sister when she still lived here permanently. The reality is that I really want to look for a room. As usual, a negative event has turned off a bit 'my enthusiasm, and to this were added the university commitments, I am strangely fulfilled, including the study. I did not become a nerd, mind you, but the fact that finally does one thing I want to do, the more the awareness of not being able to more afford to lose time, it has increased my passion for the game under the "sweaty cards."
The negative event I mentioned earlier has already happened more than two months ago. I had to take home with one of my best friends who lives in Milan for some time, but after almost three weeks of unnecessary searching we gave up and he stayed in the apartment where he lived. And I'm left on foot. Always respect, counting his aunt's house. What is also nice, but it is heavy as a boulder. In short, in October I had a house, I was disheartened after seeing the ads of niches horrendous, my aunt he kept repeating "do not worry, there is what you want" and so I stopped trying. Yes, I have reserved less time looking for a house like I told everyone, took it from him completely. So now I find myself in December, still without a home. Parent, moved with compassion, he decided that it is in the mood for spending crazy and wants to get a studio. It seems to me premature, frankly, but a studio for me would be the ideal solution. Are now university for four years, three of which, I repeat THREE freshman. University life now I've done it, I lived in the university city par excellence, I did the feasts, the sunrises, nights spent smoking and playing Risk, I smeared the walls of the cathedral, I packed a statue, I drank sangria with cigarette ashes, slept in crowded rooms. I met people saw things. Lived with people different from me, and maybe this is the only thing I can argue, given the relatively short time spent in the house of ferrara than what I had. In short, do not feel like starting over even more than that. Know and learn to live with different people, accept the food habits / hygiene / behavior of others to tolerate unpleasant things, to share all these things when I'm not interested. Knowing me maybe in a month I live in the house with five other people and I will be happy to make these experiences, which ultimately are always different, but now, now, at 4:25 am, a city in cold, I am adamant that a studio would be perfect. Me my cocks, manage my inventory without regard to anyone, to decide whether to stay alone or invite someone to be quiet after a busy day, jumping on the bed naked, eating from the pan and take a shower with the open door, listening to the songs of Bob Dylan cartoons or worrying about the volume or the tastes of other residents of the house, getting a dog, take me to bed a girl without having to worry about unscheduled meetings or awkward explanations after yet more embarrassing situations. In short, to live alone. It would be really great. Yeah I guess, in the most common mental saws these days, my lovely furnished studio in my own way, with a nice futon (or whatever the spelling) with sheets of dark, tired and with remote controls, comics, books, pens , clothes, thrown over in a day Scazzi. And I, svaccato watching TV, or play with the wii .
Already, the wii. And 'this is my new obsession with puerile, after those described in these pages and many others that came later. I have already spoken, long time ago. Then called the Revolution, but it struck me how it strikes me now, and now more than then "Curiosity kills me." The innovative controller and the desire to give me a toy for Christmas I do not think of anything else when I'm at computer, looking for videos, reviews, comments. The new Nintendo console will be released in Europe on December 8, Italy 7, probably because the party is December 8th. I have the money to I buy them at launch. I will make a living by beggar for the rest of December, but never mind. Unfortunately I do not know if I'll find, but I feel it a chance. Especially because, cabbage, December 7th is a holiday in Milan. So I might go back to Bologna on Wednesday, 6 (obviously I can not get it to + play with Milan, imagine my aunt ... big incentive to find a house) to buy the 7 and do one of those weekend nerd so I like and that more and more I rarely concede. And then the Wii (or Wii, has not yet decided if it's a boy or a girl) is the ultimate party console, so it may also escape me some strange session of tennis together. Ok, now are the 4:41 and managed to turn a serious post in yet another frenzy of a nerd who lives in a basically normal guy.
Now, at 4:42, while Michael Stipe and company sing It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine) put an end to this post, to devote myself to a massive upgrade of the template for then go to bed satisfied.
Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline.
It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine), REM, 1987
0 comments:
Post a Comment