Lettera a C.

Il senso sembra non esserci, dopo certi periodi ti senti semplicemente VUOTA. Senti un vuoto, un vuoto da voler colmare all'istante in un vortice di bulimia emotiva. E' un vuoto che spaventa e non c'è consolazione. Mi mancano altri occhi attraverso i quali conoscere le meraviglie dell'Universo. Mi mancano le voci, e le anime ancora di più. Nel fluire senza senso di questa quotidianità appannata, mi domando quale sia il senso, se non aspettare, con speranza e pazienza. Una sola delle due non sarebbe sufficiente. Aspetto che si sveli il mistero, e non so più se quello che vedo è reale, perché totalmente sconosciuto. Non saprò mai cos'è successo davvero, in quella bolla di universo così imperfetto eppure così completo e totalizzante. L'incertezza domina assoluta, sotto forma di nuvoloni grigi che opprimono il cielo di questa estate che sta finendo. Quanto è durata? Una vita intera fatta di piccolissimi infiniti. O forse solo un unico eterno istante. Tanti cieli sono passati, tante nuvole e tante scie di aerei in volo. Se dovessi racchiudere il tutto in un'immagine, sarebbe un naso all'insù che ammira le stelle e si stupisce della luce della notte. Forse se chiudo gli occhi ritrovo quella pace. Forse basta solo aspettare. E nessuna lingua sarà più sconosciuta, per le anime che sanno ritrovarsi lungo la strada. 

A second start

Friday. I spent the whole day at home. Watching tv series, doing the laundry, cooking, drinking tea, studying phrasal verbs and cooking again. Apparently, I should have nothing to say about today, as I only stepped in the garden to hang out my laundry and nothing more. I am here, sitting on my bed, twisted and turned into layers of sweaters and blankett as the weather is terribly cold - especially considering that a month ago I was enjoying the hot sun in Florida, dipping my feet in the Ocean. And I suddenly realized it's not true that I spent all the day at home: today, after almost one week of rushing all around the City to see rooms and houses that could potentially become "home" to me, my head  and body needed some rest. I can still feel the rain pouring on my hair and on my face, the desolation of that bus stop in the cold evening, my tears streaming down and mixing with raindrops. Today, all I needed was the calm and the warmth that you feel only when you are at home - and in some ways, I was able to find them even if I'm everywhere but home at the moment. I didn't actually spend all the day here: today, my thoughts have reached the furthest corners on Earth, from New Zealand, to Germany, to Switzerland and Argentina, and so on. I had this strong feeling of connection with other Friends who are trying to make their ways somewhere in the World. What if, in our lives, we could be gifted with a second start? What if we were given a second chance to start our lives over? Once you're stucked in your routine, in your own Country, it's almost the same places and faces you've always seen for ages, the same daily habits. For ages. You start wondering how would it be to have a second chance, until  you start gathering all your strength and energies and you decide to leave. And then? Trying to make a comparison between the two situations would be both silly and useless, as I would need ages before starting to have a daily routine here. At the moment, each little moment of joy is a bliss, and each obstacle on my way is a curse. Today I realized that even though a little bit of courage is enough to leave your Country, then only patience makes the difference and gives you the answers. That's why today I've decided to stop making questions - as it's not the right time to find answers yet. 

In the place it has to be.

The sky il almost completely dark blue, only a shade of light peers out on the horizon, a plane flying over my head leaves two white lines behind it. It's a warm springtime evening in London, I step out in the garden to take my laundry inside, but the atmosphere is too moving to be ignored. Today I had a very busy day. I went to Woolwich Arsenal to see a room I might rent for the summer - the journey took me an hour by tube and almost half an hour walking on a rise, in a foreign neighborhood, feeling the highest anxiety EVER as it was the very first time for me to go and see a room I might rent, so it might become my home for few months. After the visit, I decided to come back by bus even if it would have taken me longer. I was there, sitting upstairs in the front line of the double-decker, glued to the mirror, joyful as a child the first time you take him to see an aquarium. I don't feel like a stranger in these foreign streets, corner after corner I'm greed to see new places, new colors and faces. Maybe I won't ever see any of them again, but in that very moment everything is just in the place it has to be. And then, after an hour of sharp turns, trees scratching the top of the bus and children yelling silly songs behind me, here I am: my favorite place in the World. I cannot explain what happens to me when I see it. I just feel so full of life, until the bottom of the deepest hole of my heart, everything inside me is full of this place. Only here, I can breathe peace, harmony and balance. 

My favorite place in the World.

I stepped out of the bus just before crossing Westminster Bridge and I turned left, walking on the riverside until Lambeth Bridge and then decided to stop here to do one of the most beautiful things I ever did in my life. I entered a red phone box, inserted the coins, dialed the number and hold on. "Hello?" The voice of my grandmother on the other side of the receiver sounded at the same time so far away and so close to me. We spoke for few minutes, the line was not very clear and for some reason the phone rejected the coins I tried to put into it. In the overall excitement, I was talking so fast and both of us were talking so loud that I couldn't help ending the phone call with a laugh. I kept this smile with me all day long and I look forward to do this again. 

The red phone box.