these are the darkest days of desolation ... these are not times for the faint of heart ...
and while not listening to nothing but the rain that falls on the sloping ceiling of my room, this song gets to me ...
few more days, and this trip is over ...
is to indicate the range of emotions that I got, at least at times of maturity that has allowed me, a dream that has revived.
when a child I dreamed of Australia, I would never be able to predict the scope of what was my real journey.
a big part of me is still here, many do not ever know, and perhaps the deepest part of me ... the less processed, the most authentic, what contradictions and defects has still failed afloat, not likes and dislikes, but courageous, day by day to appear.
return to Italy, it is not a return. is a new journey, a journey all over again, that is already foresee some difficulties, but also important rewards.
the journey is more awkward, because every time you return is getting a bit 'hard to recognize others and to recognize in them. is the journey more difficult, because after so much wandering around, you have to go through ...
is a journey in the soul, is a potential that is said, is the thrill of the new and the terror of a troubling realization.
is no trip back ... and no trip is never just starting ...
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