's over. Or so it seems.
I can again open your mouth and breathe deeply, enjoy the fresh morning air and return to life. The annus horribilis
in Milan is over, and he did exactly what I expected. So exasperated, tense and bad.
It 'been a heavy year, unnerving, I've never denied suffered more than necessary.
Milan is a city that transforms those who live and forcing those who are unwillingly caught up in to go diving with the countdown in my head. A year in apnea.
bring with me several books of experience and knowledge that you are now ready to throw myself into the fray hundred per cent, some good friends will stay by my side in the years to be the melancholy that generates knowledge, which ended my last year as a student.
I leave Milan tension, anxiety, fatigue and greyness of an urban area that has sold his soul to get a mirror without eternal youth. There who like, and rightly so.
But let me say that not because the flies eat that shit becomes whipped cream. Swimming
up, my lungs bursting, are on the water, an explosion of spray: breathing.
's over.
But it is also just begun.
The view is no longer clouded, I see all. Friends near and far, who has been there and who would want to be there, those who smile a hug or a word left to an image.
And breathe again, happy with what I got and what I have always had, I start to imagine in color.
guess the Eternal City the perfect backdrop for the rendezvous with the present, and parents of Negin that will fly in two days until the boot for a short Eurotrip and to know myself.
strong colors but I imagine a beautiful picture, I imagine Roman holiday. Then I think
sling July 17, when a plane will bring me green and blue in the Middle East, to Amman. I guess the spectacular deserts of Jordan and the Bedouin of Petra, Syria and the impressive Roman ruins and the souks of Damascus, Lebanon and the Beirut Arab multicultural celebrating Khalil Gibran on his tomb in the valley of Kadisha. I guess a month of laughter and experiences with the good old enrich my vision of travelers and friend. Then imagine
calm, calm blue and white. Like the Greek Cycladic houses, with the bright blue sea in the background. And we imagine that Negin relaxes in the sun, which keeps her company Cristina and Julian, who follows me furtively looking for some trekking in the hinterland of Amorgos, the wildest of the Cyclades.
Finally, suppose the return to the cradle of civilization in the country where writing was invented: it seems almost certain that next year will find me in Beirut, the Lebanese capital effervescent.
But beware: if you leave the bridle, the imagination runs away fast-forward, hard to control.
Back to today, the next present, with flavors of the hour.
And they are in Rome and speak Persian or Arabic in Jordan and they do all the spices they breath since I came to know dall'apnea Middle East. A hug
middle eastern
Tommy
PS: The Middle East is, from all points of view, a terribly hot place. For those wishing to cool off a bit in the meantime ', with a year late arriving photos of Iceland in June 2009, which are made to wait, but I think the reward waiting:
http://picasaweb.google.com/Tommyjay13/DiGhiaccioEDiFuoco
You take the view, let me know!
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