Back to winter, back to London. I never thought it could be so strangely sad coming back after my break in Italy (a photo of Verona below). It was fun, a lot, and i perfectly knew that it wouldn't last forever but something in the deepest part of my soul, once in the airplane, started to hurt. I can't say what it was and why it was making me feel so bad watching the sunset from a little window but it was there. Unexplainable. And I'm not saying I felt bad to start my life again here in London, but the awareness that a big part of my life is still there made me feel and make me feel naked in front of the life's bullets. Defenseless.
During these days I appreciate more than ever my parents and my friends and the love that in different ways they always give to me.
I know that only if you are strong and tough you can realize your dreams but sometimes it seems so difficult to pursue something that is much more similar to a utopia than a concrete target. And I wonder if everything has a real aim or it's just a stupid thing, that maybe is made more important by the world surrounding us.
I don't know what to think and say cause everything in me it always asking me why I am doing that, and this feeling that now I feel in me is, and I know that it is, a part of these incredible set of question that are trying to divert me from my goal.
I don't know what to think and say but I just know I miss a lot my Italian life.
Almost moving. I often , i'd rather say always, feel like that.
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