I find it perfect.

There are some sort of animals that are irresistible to me…ok, any animal I come across is irresistible to me such as cats, dogs, birds, horses, ducks, goats, cows…just any one. I’ve been  aracnophobic  for a while, in my childhood, but I am no more. I know there are dangerous situations you might fall across, yet nature has mingled a temporary beauty and grace, danger and destruction in its compositions. You may know that a snake is hurtful, you might disapprove of such unaesthetic creatures and their manners… but yet for the time I find them perfect.
Must we not feel any edge of disgust when we look at nature, which even in a moment, any creature or element being detached from the related context, might look distasteful at us, but it’s the sight being corrupted at its source. Creatures should be carefully watched and guarded against everything and everybody, and we should be giving loud praises to nature, and censure unsuitable human attitudes- which are intolerable to humanity as well, and, besides being intolerable, are presented all over the world in all their tactlessness…
With my simplicity I observe I only uttering a censure to our behavior and  I am to add the praises to something I find undeniably perfect; ok now I will say no more,  I’ve just eyed a couple of crows from my window…I will cross the street and make the best to appreciate perfection and grace.

fragments of thought; with long stride, dazed and pleased and confused I come back to the room I’ve never left.

My greatest pleasure is to be alone. I like to… to go out under the sun, the rain, I don’t like the wind much, I enjoy watching the trees, trees are poems they say; I like taking photos of the cats I come across, I like talking to people spontaneously.  I believe…  each person could govern himself harmoniously, for there would be no conflict of purpose among people.  I believe… I could always change my mind up to the last day, each new moment.

My heart demands that the sovereign of the mind must be followed; I realize… my ideals more and more as and when my strength approximates, in greater and greater degree. The deeper the understanding of my faculties and powers, the more inward is the manner in which the virtues are discovered in a condition which tends to advance towards possibility.

The quiet apartment and a fleeting desire to stay, to move again, to travel, to go back home, to go jogging, to be writing stories, to live, to love here forever fills my heart. Then, under the moon ,I come again with long stride, dazed and pleased and confused to the room I’ve never left. I think .. I’d like to go out under the night; but it’s windy out there and as I said I don’t like wind much.  I could always change my mind up to…now.

Ikea, Ikea.

My world seemed to go tragically dark as my Ikea’s guest bed suddenly got blocked in itself; actually, my world went miserably dark when the bed enveloped my friend when he tried to open it. I immediately felt myself get much, much heavier. I felt embarrassed and ashamed by the fact it was my responsibility if we were making such a noise in the whole apartment block. I wasn’t even sure it was worth it, if my friend would handle it, we were both sleepy and the guest bed didn’t seem so collaborative. My friend gripped the spring-bed like a maniac, closed and re-opened it, eventually.  My friend miraculously rescued himself from the Ikea’s guest bed. I promised I’ll never close it in my life again.

If only I knew how to begin

-What must I do, to succeed in ?- I ask thoughtfully.
-Exercise. Continuously. Then learn.  Ask.  Be persistent about targets and be patient with yourself. Remember  to be kind with yourself.-
-What should I be doing more than what I am already doing?-
-Try about letting go of yourself.  Leave yourself and everything  yours behind you. You are not the things you think you own. And you are more than what you think of yourself. Firmly I state, you should be starting to seeing yourself . -
-If only I knew how to begin-
-You are verily seeing it though you do not see (what it has to be seen). You are not a second thing other than yourself, or separate, that you might see-

Farò accadere qualcosa che muterà la fisionomia degli eventi.

- Con che frequenza scriverai? -

- Tutti i giorni. Qualcuno leggerà? -

- Sì, ma non tutti sanno l’inglese. E non tutti leggono blog. Si dice che in Italia nessuno abbia più voglia di leggere-

- Scriverò in modo da farmi leggere- pensai.

- Sì ma non troppo. -

- Qualche volta.  Ora devo andare. -

- Lo so.

- Non vorrei che te ne andassi.. -

- Anche a me dispiace. -

- Ma è così. -

- Sì. La vecchia sistemazione ha fatto il suo tempo. -

- Cambierò ancora-

- Avrai una bella casa quando tornerai a casa. –

Eppure questo colloquio immaginario mi dà qualche tranquillità. Di tutte le parole che un buon amico potrebbe dirmi in questo momento, mi rimane l'impressione del sostegno, della fiducia nel mio futuro. Non vorrei mai che l’amico tacesse. Non mi curo se non è mai esistito. Ritornerò a casa, un giorno. Ho il presentimento che comprenderò perfettamente la situazione e che farò accadere qualcosa che muterà la fisionomia degli eventi. Ed è di più di quanto si possa domandare per il proprio bene.

So long stanza.

I am in the furthest corner of my new room, near the window. There are ten or more rows of empty lockers here (for there are more lockers than things of mine to put set off), and it is unusual and familiar  at the same time to be here. The silence is absolute. I settled in for the long dark teatime of the soul. It habituates rapidly.

I am in my new room.

I thought about the advice my friend had given me. I made just a run for it. It's a measure of ultimate need that I considered this prospect, since I was by circumstances almost  pennyless, and had never once asked any help.  The only realistic alternative was to find this quiet spot -somewhere here in Trieste-and resting here for the duration of my thesis writing. Or even getting prepared and planning my future. That's what I himself had promised to do.

Good night.

Hai lasciato piazze piene.

Mi manca Kenka, Lucia, il prof inglese. E so dirlo solo su un blog.