Stamattina mi sono svegliato con una buona notizia: Mata al Barcellona.
Poi a pranzo ho sentito che la Juve e’ molto vicina all’acquisto di Bonucci.
Poi ho seguito le partite, e l’Inghilterra si e’ qualificata agli ottavi.
Inoltre, ho pure vinto la scommessa grazie a un gol all’ultimo minuto di Donovan.
Ora sono qui, e persuado me stesso con frasi del tipo: e’ stata una bella giornata.
Per un cazzo.
Non e’ stata una bella giornata.
Perche’ sono stufo di nascondermi dietro alle frivolezze calcistiche.
Le mie giornate non possono essere risollevate da un’ingaggio di 20 milioni per un ragazzo dell’88. O almeno, non dovrebbero.
Le mie giornate dovrebbero essere svegliarsi col sorriso sulle labbra per l’incombere di una nuova giornata, non con l’ennesimo sbuffo o l’ennesima emicrania cronica che mi avvilisce da qualche mese.
Le mie giornate non dovrebbero passare lente, tra esercizi di biologia e partite di calcio, ma tra limonate e partite di beach volley.
E soprattutto, non dovrebbero finire con un post deprimente, ma con un post che dichiari la mia felicita’ nell’aver passato una splendida giornata.
La verita’ e’ che sta andando tutto a puttane, e ogni giorno che passa me ne rendo conto sempre di piu’.
Sono a tanto cosi’ da mandare tutto a fanculo.
Well, it seems I can’t relax for one whole day.
Everyday comes something that’s annoying, and I’m totally sick & tired.
And I’m wondering: will one day change ?
I’m not so confident
I actually don’t understand how I could write something funny.
I found a fun-story of Harry Potter, written by me about two years ago.
It’s simply exhilarating.
Maybe, my mood was ok.
But now, my mood isn’t ok, and so I can’t continue it.
I need inspiration.
I need her.
Since my grandfather passed away, I haven’t been crying.
Tonight, the first tear from two years and a half has appeared.
Not a very good thing at all.
This morning I got up early for going to studying with a friend of mine. We’ll have an exam in a few days, but I think I’m not gonna pass it.
Meanwhile I was studying, I texted to my ex-girlfriend, who yesterday told me that she wanted to see me again (we haven’t been meeting for one year).
So I told my friend if he wanted to go to our old high school, and he said yes.
When we were leaving, a policeman was sanctioning us for parking in “no parking zone”, but he saw us comin, so he didn’t do that.
My first thought was: “well, if I hadn’t text to her, now we probably would have to pay a sanction”. Because we were going to take the motorbike to go to our old school.
Another example of what is happening to me. Or is better say, an example of WHY is happening what’s happening.
So, I think nothing happens without a reason.
And I’m here for a reason.
What reason ?
I met her this morning.
P.S.: also I met my old english teacher (she’s from England, with a perfect British accent). We chatted for a while, and then she said to me: “You grow up”
Maybe, it’s actually happened.
It’s impossible that everything I do, everything I see, everything I hear, every song I listen to, everything I think, reminds me of her.
I’m barely going on now, ‘cause it’s wearing me out.
I’ve just found out I can’t live like this.
And I’ve got nobody here to help me, ‘cause this for my friends it’s such a little thing that they don’t give a fuck about that, they tell me “it will pass, it’s gonna be alright”.
But two years have passed and I’m still wondering how I’m alive.
I’ve become boring I know.
But, seriously, I can’t find another reason to live.