the city, part I It 's late.
do not even know where to start, I was trying to sleep in this Saturday night (or Sunday morning) inconclusive. The idea of \u200b\u200breturn to Italy seems to me appalling. On the one hand, my family pulls me from one side to keep me here because it costs money, the other the city seduced me and I think the idea of \u200b\u200bleaving a failure.
E 'come back in an underdeveloped country to go to Italy. Not that it really is, but one thing is to move from a small provincial town of Como (which in turn can be considered a provincial Milan, which incidentally is none other than a provincial town European Union, in a provincial Italian) in Bologna, then Bologna and Berlin, and so far so good, but then from Berlin to Bologna? Here
everything collapsed.
feel faint at the thought of the air already, alleys, arcades, the size ONLY student, a small neighborhood. I mean you can not do, or so it seems now, but now I know that other neighborhoods around me, a very large city, it makes me feel comfortable, even though I have never been to Charlottenburg and I visited a few times Schonenberg I need them to be. They are my window to the world, are the bridges linking the island to rest. Bologna is an island with no bridge, a room without doors to the outside, because even those doors lead to other small and asphyxiating identical rooms.
The only thing that saves me is the university, I am happy to return to my studies but I'm not there I can not devote as an outlet because I have to work. Not to mention the fact that I had sex in boston a couple of times a year.
Now everything seems negative, I do not want to leave Berlin, I would like to continue studying, I would take my books there and study everything from here, I would not go back to Italy now, I can not, is not the time, I'm not ready. PAUSE is premature.
's so that the call, pause, my return to Italy is just a break from Berlin and not the other way.
This is my city now.
