Skip to main content


Showing posts from 2015

''Life for rent'': picking up the pieces of 'your place in the world'

I have never been jealous of things and people as I am when it comes to spaces. I don’t know why, exactly.  I guess it’s just the way it is or – maybe – the way I am. In my life I always had to share my spaces with someone else. Don’t misunderstand me: sharing my room with my brothers for the first eighteen years of my life has been amazing. I can’t imagine spending my childhood sleeping next to someone else than my brother or sister. Thank God they were there. I had always been afraid of monsters and the dark scared me to death. But it couldn’t be that bad, as long as they were there, I can still hear my myself shouting and crying the first time my brother spent the night outside, while he was on a school trip. It was horrible. And it took me years to get used to the feeling of sleeping alone. But the older you get, the more you start feeling the unbearable need to have a place that you can call yours and in which you can put all of yourself. The walls, posters, lights: e

''Syndrome of the wrong train'': city nights and unexpected encounters

It’s been going on for so long. I still don’t know if there is a clinical definition for this particular mental disorder... anyway, it doesn’t really matter: I call it '' syndrome of the wrong train ''. Mine is a rare case, extremely serious, almost incurable. Everyday, I pay a high price for this kind of mistake and it has often dragged me into dangerous and unpleasant situations. More than once I found myself having to wander alone in dark and isolated streets in the middle of the night. But the real problem lies in the fact that the night in the city is not like the night in a quiet Italian village: the streets are emptied and all the men in suits and the elegant ladies in tailleurs are sucked into a vortex that inevitably culminates in a nice central apartment or a dirty old hovel in zone 4. The night is like a filter: the figures of the day are dissolved in a smokey cloud and those who stay in the streets are nameless and homeless people: pale and

My first month of University: the importance of 'good stories'

Here we are once again. It’s been a long time, eh? Well, the fact that you haven’t heard from me for one month or two does not necessarily mean that I’ve run out of ideas… HELL NO! I’ve got plenty of them… too many, some say. The truth is… I’ve run out of something else: patience? (maybe), money? (always), time? THAT’S THE WORD YOU’RE LOOKING FOR! Yeah, I know what you’re thinking: How many times have we heard this before, Valerio? Well, at this stage I can openly admit that in the past every time you heard me shout I DON’T HAVE TIMEEE, crying and wiggling on the floor, I was just exaggerating. You know… usual healthy drama. I can’t really live without it. But now I am serious: I do not have time. My last day off was more than 34 days ago! (ouch). And everybody who knows me a bit is like… Really? Valerio without a day off for one month? How did that happen? Anyway, this is not the point. WHAT’S THE POINT THEN?  you must be wondering. Just give me a few second