Category: Blog

I remember when I went in japan for 23 days. 
Each of those days, at the end when I was at the hostel, I published on my facebook a photo and described it with the information I had.

Many people started following it, many loved it, some hated me.
That was my way to let my friends know what I was visiting, allowing them to breath some of the air I was breathing, to experience part of my trip.

What I often see instead is photos of people drinking, making selfies and so on.
The place has become a background to our photos instead of the main character. 

I feel bad for this, because we take the beauty away from us and from our friends. 
If each friend you have posted a more detailed description of the places they’re visiting you’d have the best guide in the world, you could decide what to see, what you like and what not.

In each trip of your friends you’d experience part of their trip, you’ll see through their eyes and listen to their stories. And once they’ll come back maybe you’d ask them oh tell me about that time when….

Sadly there is no story behind a drink.

Some things don’t suit you. Don’t try to please everyone and everything.

Yes, we can change, yes we can adapt. But it’s also ok to accept what you are. 

I often go back to a specific memory of my teenage years.

I was in love with this girl, I went to her parent’s holidays house in august. It was in Ostuni, Puglia, Italy.

I was 18-21/yo don’t remember the age. Yet I was inexperienced in any kind of relationship, love or not.
I loved her at that time, and I remember once we had to go to a birthday of a cousin.

I was ok with it, but didn’t know what to expect.
I dressed up the best I could and we went to this birthday. I didn’t knew a single person aside from my girlfriend of that time.

I didn’t know how to act with these people. I was a introverd, quite nerd, focused on japanese Anime and Manga and they seemed different.

To make it more difficult there’s the story of his cousin.
He lost his soon to be wife couple of years ago. She died while driving to get back to him to take him home.
He then started following a religious cult in italy, who knows if it was because of the death. 
Surely it must have been part of the reasons behind it.

That story made me struggle even more.
I don’t have precise memories of that day, although even retaining it is a big success for me, but looking back now I would act differently.

Maybe I’d be less fearful of the situation and enjoy it a little bit more.

Maybe I’d choose to stay by myself and live happily with the fact that we’re not all the same, who knows.

The thing is: you learn after living.
The first time you face a new situation you’re lost, you improvise and often improvise badly. But then you learn, you start understanding the rules of the game, what matters, what doesn’t.
You start understanding that afterall people don’t care about you, and even if they do, they often close an eye for it.

It’s not important to have a specific behaviour unless you’re an idiot.
What’s important is to live, be there, go with the flow be authentic and not being drowned by the fears.

That is enough to make a good impression. You might not shine, but you won’t suck either.
And I couldn’t learn this without going through it because I would then try to fake my authenticy, I would try to conform into the rules, to merge myself into the background.

We are part of the painting, and whatever we do, as long as it’s sound, will be part of the painting in a coherent way.

We often think that power is a result of the status you have.

So if you’re the boss, then you always have power over people.

While this may sound true there’s a glitch. Power is defined by the amount of control you have over other people’s lives. It’s not defined by your status.

In fact your status might not be related at all with it.

Today I cried, and last time was long ago. I cried and didn’t held the tears.

It was good, it was bittersweet and it was a relief.

I realized that sometimes when I write I write to impress people. Because I know my writing has an effect.
But this time I wrote to convey a feeling, to send my message across the paper.

It was different, and at first I didn’t know what to do because I felt the writing was something else. I was worried that by straying out of the main road something worse might come out, but it didn’t.

It was worth it.