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. 

Before.

Before is always tricky. You have to be careful with expectations: yours and others'. Other people's expectations usually consist of an endless list of questions, from "where are you going to live?" to "you already have a job there, don't you?", or "how long are you planning to stay?". For sure I have no answer, to none of them. But that's the point. Before, I never answer questions. Mainly because I have no idea of what to say, so that anything could be a lie, but also because I'd like people to put less pressure on me. Here they are, my best friends right now - silent, patient, quiet and useful: a scale and a suitcase. 

No questions about my future, about my whys and hows. I know it will be hard in the beginning. These days are passing by like liquid moments, as if panic and desire could stop the time. Especially during the night, the noise of the clock is more like the sound of a bomb about to explode beside my bed. I'm awake but yet unable to think clearly about ..all the things I should think of. I should clean my room, set a list of priorities, check anything I casually dropped in the suitcase, check if I forgot anything important, call my grandmother like four or five times a day to make sure she's not getting mad for me and my future. But then I feel glued to my bed and I'm unable to think or do anything. So here I am. Glued to my bed. Any advices on how to get up and react to all this more lively?