instillwaters

Le montagne, A, io, il suo respiro, la nebbia, la sua barba, i suoi pensieri su di me. Forse mi sono innamorata e infatti il mio cuore canta quando lo penso ed è anche triste. Dal deserto e in mezzo a tante altre, l'ho incontrato quel giorno d'estate, sarà per sempre un ricordo dolce ma anche amaro. Il mare, l'isola dolomitica, la sensazione che non saremo mai nostri, l'inverno, l'abruzzo. Fin quando posso voglio tenere questi ricordi che sono dolci e molto tristi per essere tutto così mai nato e coltivato.

primo giorno a Milano con i nuovi colleghi, dentro un contesto che sinceramente ho sempre guardato con estremo disinteresse, molto lontano da me, ma se seguo il flusso della vita sembra che sia l’unica cosa a cui mi sta portando senza forzature, quindi va bene così, vediamo. tutto il resto è solitudine.

Ho iniziato il nuovo lavoro da remoto, l’australiano non lo sento più, i miei amici stanno bene, abbiamo protestato per Gaza ed è arrivato l’autunno, l’ennesimo. E io mi sento arida, senza vita, spogliata dal senso più profondo della vita, qual è il mio problema?

in realtà in realtà io vi dico, che mi batte forte il cuore per un cretino. mi chiedo come sia possibile questo disastro, in realtà è perché voglio l’amore e innamorarmi.

Giorni abbastanza movimentati, vediamo cosa ne può uscire.

It’s been four days since I left my last job. I’ve received other interviews, but nothing has materialized yet. To be honest, I’m pushing the thought away, focusing on other things for this month I’ve paid all the bills, and that’s enough.

The job at the coffee shop was a disaster. The old manager kept scolding me the whole time I was working—it just didn’t work. I called in sick. Unfortunately, I’m developing a vision of work that no longer matches this nation’s, which in the end isn’t even a vision of success (I hate using that word), and I’m really not doing well. Wages are low, contracts are precarious.

I survived the first day back at work. Waking up was a nightmare—I asked myself what I was even doing in this city, in these conditions. I might as well leave, leave—after all, this is not my city, and it has given me absolutely nothing.

I really think I’m not doing well. I’m having very heavy paranoid crises, I believe because tomorrow I will start a new job that I hate. I detest it. But I didn’t have the energy to look for something else—job searching takes so much energy that I’m exhausted. As if that weren’t enough, right now the Australian has resurfaced. How much I like him and how much I hate him. But it’s over between us, and all I can give him now is hate, resentment, and frustration. And that hasn’t helped me these past weeks—he hasn’t helped me. Everything is wrong.

The Australian blocked me only on one app, not on the others. I wrote to him, he saw it, but he didn’t reply. Since he got back in touch the day after Ferragosto, I’ve been very restless. With him I know I was irresponsible, but even here I don’t regret it - no, I don’t want to regret the things I do anymore (at least I try, because it’s very difficult). I don’t know if I’m in love, maybe yes, but I’m very envious of how he is: free and a traveler.

I am crying in the kitchen of my house, the one I share with my two other roommates. I ask myself: if I were to die tomorrow, would I feel satisfied with the life I’ve lived? The answer is no. And that’s why I’m crying. The truth is, there’s a voice inside me that tells me what I should do, but I don’t listen to it because I don’t have the courage and I am afraid.