who has a vague idea of \u200b\u200bwho I am beyond four crap written on a blog or somewhere else in the net, I know that if they are the certainties in life the falsity of the stigmata Padre Pio, the final of the Champions League and the month of May. The month of May and the final night of European Cup in 2009 will probably remain for a long time of the indelible memories in my life, the decisions I made in the last two days will affect my future and only time will determine whether yet another strong bet that I played with my fate had reason for being or not.
I resigned today, in the worst economic spiral of the last 80 years, terminate a permanent contract from a multinational firm which explicitly gave me a bright career and a guaranteed future in a land that perhaps does not love you more ', but did nothing because I hated. That's because my heart this winter, he decided. Why is my determination and my will, my instincts led me once again to change the tables, when the last time I have done tarot cards, two years and six months ago, in a ruined house at the foot of the Bairro Alto, I checked out the world and shortly after I picked up for real. I have often heard, in Portugal, as you will feel put last night, after a while and 63 meters down from his network has put the ball in the decisive final of the Champions Cup with a masterful shot: I do not know as I did, but I did. I had it done, but it was not enough.
Lisbon at some point, I do not know at what point precisely, it begins to empty. Without stimulation, no strength to walk an easy path to inaction easy, I still decided once to replay it. To start from the beginning and jump back into the void. I leave Portugal, certainly with a view to forever home, I leave what has been, the love that I had, the love I gave, the sadness and warmth of a kind and generous people, narrow streets and the taste of beer carbonated ultra, sincere and loyal friendships, his imperfect women who have troubled me so much, mild climate, slow and calm and the patience and silence dell'irrimediabilità the fate of fado sung at the corners of baixa, the bitter cold of Viseu, the distorted Algarve, the Alentejo hostile, the Tagus, Douro, Porto glimpses of the Gothic, the mc donald's Braga, the Roman walls of Evora, the language more 'romantic of the world, more than two years' more intense' full of my existence, to return home. If there is still a home for a gypsy spirit like mine, which once again was unable to fully love someone or something, and at one point he said simply. For no apparent reason, I do not know yet explain myself.
A person who insisted, in all these months, to idealize, and anyway I assume you know me well, I have argued that an innate sense of anticipation of danger and for this reason that I decided to go back early. Controtempo, indeed. I do not think you have these skills, otherwise I would not have made certain choices in their youth whose repercussions still pay (among other things, for the uninitiated, are integers), I would not have given an existential isolationism, I would not have turned their backs on what 'a few time that could have been state. The truth is that they are refractory to the easy life, the repetition of being in the continuum of feelings. I am opposed to the apartment, a wife, two children and hope that they are different. I am opposed to the banal in life, I am opposed to the career at all costs, I am opposed to the coldness of being. I miss my family, my friends of a lifetime, the warm sea and the misfortune of being irretrievable Calabrian daily. Prior to repress these feelings forever and transform myself into another man machine, capable only of obedience and responsibility away, my charisma, or to exercise power in devious toys to fill what I should not have had in my childhood, and instead I had, before then to betray my childhood and my being, I put a piece and return to the country without a future that is Tauranga, province of Reggio Calabria. Because I never envied the other, I never needed to confront to the death to find out to be different, I do not have the fighting spirit which must have a getter for it to become a professional in 2000. I do not want a house in a palace on the 40th floor the Expo or a car from $ 100 million, because I do not have to prove anything. Life has been very generous with me, I do not see why I should hate her, do not see why I should have a predatory instinct at all costs. The career is not my objective existence, my reason for being in the world. I am a sensitive person who has stopped crying for some time, unfortunately, that after all he loves the people with whom they share these years of life, and just want to be happy, I do not know how, maybe just following my instinct . Which brings me back to the end of May rarely warm, unusually wet, roughly practical, with a pleasant Slovenia in the middle, a long goodbye teenage taste and a choice of life hard to take and now irrevocably, toward a future that I do not know. That will once again be far away from where I grew up, but never stop to accompany me, and that ultimately I will have forever, if not physically, at least in the internal need of irreplaceable relive it constantly. It is perhaps for fear of that one eternal bond that my soul will always continue to wander in pain, to travel.
to live.
