Some sentences i wrote for a friend project in London.
I wake up.
After 7-8 bad hours of sleep.
I move the curtains. I see Paris skyline, plunged into the rain. A thin, invisible rain that whisper that winter is coming.
Alone i look outside. And when sky i so grey i realize how the whole face of this city changes. I wash my face, and i have a weird breakfast.
Then i think of those i left in Rome, under the sun.
The majority of the peolple i left in Rome did not understand why i moved.
They don’t feel guilty, or responsible. But they are scared to write me, to ask. Or maybe they just do not have the capacity to undertand. I always over-estimated some persons.
With all this distance i realize that truth is so different: i thought to have many friends there. Nope. They made gossips and disappeared. They asked me to work for free … “friends” stuff and blah blah. Big part of them never wrote, never asked. Other just wrote to say ” oh great you live i paris now? good i’ll visit you so i won’t have to pay the hotel”. Wow… what a style. I’m happy to have recognized these persons. And in the future, i won’t be so naive. I’ll know how to treat them.
On the other hand i’m having a great feedback from other persons. I miss them a lot. I miss my boyfriend of course. But distance is such a good teacher. I notice things i never saw. I suffer, but this pain is making me stronger. Leaving is a kind of declaration of indipendence. A declaration of how strong someone can be. And the weaks are envious of such actions.
That’s how i feel it right away. Rome is a great city, i was just surrounded by assholes.
And what about me? well i’m working and working and … working. I have about 3-4 free per day, and i am testing new games… so i really feel kind of alienated!
I’ll have to find some motivations to enjoy more the city. It would be easier if french people weren’t so cold. Or should i say people from Paris.
Anyway i perceive it now as the city of the Arts, and loneliness.
It hurts like hell.
I finished working and i just wanted to come home.
Point is that i’m not a biker nor a PRO… so when i though “Oh yeah let’s jump over this step” in the rain… i just fell.
But… good point for me: i fell with style.
My knee btw was injured and when i got off from the bike i saw the blood.
I went in my new house and realized that i couldn’t find disinfectant.
And when i was with my knee in the shower, trying to clean the wound with water, i realized how lonely i felt. When i got hurt, i always had someone next to me. It made me feel good to know that i was in pain and someone was there, to help me or just stay in silence, next to me. I’m not a complicated girl for this.
Sometimes a silent presence means more that hundreds of words.
When i woke up… i found my wound infected. And as it was sunday…. pharmacies and drug stores were closed. Thankgod my parents came one day in Paris, so when i told them i had a problem they tried to help me. As i had no solution and i had to go working i decided to leave just some minutes befores and ask the help of the Firefighters of the hotel i work in.
Yep, in France, when you got hurt, you call Firefighters.
Well there was this firefighter who was very kind with me. For him it was just routine and he didn’t pay a special attention to me… for him it was just… “normal”. But for me… it was everything.
Lonelyness make you realize how precious persons around you are.
When you’re lonely like me, and you just moved in a empty house on your own… there’s no one to help you to trasport stuff, that keeps the door opened while you’re coming in with a heavy box, no one to cheer you up after a long day of work, nothing cooked, no one who will give you his/her arm to catch once you fell. It’s just you and a huge city full of strangers.
So when this guy smiled at me and treated me… somehow i felt i was going to cry.
Finally here i am, waiting to heal… hoping that loneliness and dirt of Paris will not infect me again.
I know that most of the people think of Paris as a very romantic capital.
A kind of “love nest” out of time, were persons look in each others eyes… and fell deeply in love.
Well. Sounds good. But reality is very different. Paris is a very cold city. People like me that goes living in the city center find themselves strangly … alone.
It is not a place for falling in love, or for looking for a person to fall in love with and build a future together.
It is a European capital that stands for its productive power. Work is the keyword. And the key to Paris differents worlds as well. Everything depends on how much you earn, on what kind of job you’re doing. The type of job qualify and define you as person.
Talking about me…. as i do not work as “a very well know artist”… it’s like i count nothing and so i am not an artist.
What i create seems to be meaningless in a Parisian’s eyes.
Target is: first, be famous.
But that sound crazy to me. Art should not be a slave of social musts. Art is a weapon again ignorance, againts the rules (sometimes wrong) of the common sense.
Fame should not be the mainstay of art.
Some many faces
So much silence.
Thousands of glances … unspoken wishes.
Lonely souls bound to each others
so many hands and eyes, that you will see just once.
I feel terribly lonely.
Yep. It’s a long time. I moved, and moved and… moved. And now, i live in Paris. I do apologize, but i have found a new job and i still don’t have internet. Things will change next week, saturday when finally a technician will come and connect me to the world. Besides i also found a new job i i didn t find the time to go in an internet point.
But i wanted to share with you guys the view from the window of my new house. In a sunny day i’ll picture the tour eiffel too, even if it’s a little far from home.
Important: i have NO intention to abandon this blog. I just need the time to put all the pieces together. I heard hours of amazing music here, and i really do want to share it with you.
I just need internet back!
… In the end the person i love is not going to live here with me. So a part of my heart will stay with him, in Rome. And i feel kind of strange… like an outsider in my own new house. I don’t know if you know what i mean but it’s a very odd sensation. And not so good.
Pain makes us feel alive. And the distance between persons is not the end. It’s the courage to look from a certain distance what’s going on. I feel hurt. Lonely. But at the same time indipendent.
This is what i had. First thing i brought. Today i brought a fridge, the washing machine. My PC. Three Chairs. But it’s all so messed up.
I feel like i’m wandering in a garden of stones.