I’m back. I knew I would be back. Until I’ll forgot the password, I’ll be here.
I think it’s time of introducing me. I didn’t it yesterday because I was in a sort of hurry. You know, actually I was studying. I was in a hurry because I start writing during a brief break I took. I know that the most sensible thing to do would have been waiting (even just to take the time to do a better work), but I couldn’t: I spent half of the morning daydreaming about opening such a blog, I didn’t want to wait any longer. You may retort that I could spent the morning starting, instead of just imagining, but of course if I didn’t because I couldn’t: I was on the bus, on my way to Rome. This is a good point from which to begin my story. Today I also gave the exam I was studing for (yeee!) so i have all the time I need.
I’m not going to tell too many details (I know how embarassing can be when someone you know find a blog you would have preferred to keep secret), but the city I live in is important. Also the city I come from is important: I won’t tell you the name, but is pretty easy to discover if only you gather every details you’ll find amid this lines.
It’s difficult to talk about my city. It’s difficult in Italy, where most of the people still remember what happened here (more hardly as time goes by, actually), even more difficul here, in a blog written in such an international language, where I always have the feeling to speak to everyone on Earth. Well: my city was flattened by an earthquake four years ago. I hope “flattened” is the right word. I searched on the web and the most appropiate expressions were this and “razed to the ground”, but this last seemed to me too much melodramatic -and there’s no need to be more melodramatic, I hate melodramatic people.
An earthquake, as I was saying. And I was in my full teens. That night was horrible, of course, and blablabla. This is why we stopped school for six months, as I said in the last post. Every kid dreams that his school was destroyed, doesn’t he? Well… it’s not very funny when it really happens.
I always say that I’ve been very very lucky: no one I knew died. Because that night hundreds of people died, too. And it’s incredible how thing acquire a new significance after such a bad experience: for the immediately following months, when every italian was still dismay (eartquake struck strong enough to be felt in the north, and my city is in the center of Italy), everyone asked my relatives and me how did we do. And everytime we answered “fine, we were lucky”; so, they continued “good, so your house didn’t crumble?”, and how can you explain than your house did crumble (both, if your parents are divorced like mine), but this mean very little when your own life is in danger?
Four years passed. It seems a short period, but they are the world when you are young. Lots of things happened… what a wasted youth, moving all around my region until my mother’s house have been repaired. I came back to my city two years after the earthquake (again, we were lucky: that two years seemed infinite to me, but actually it was a relatively short period), but, by the time, I had almost finished high school. This means that, after a year and a half, I shoved my clothes and my things (my diaries at the top of all) in a suitcase, to move again. Yet, this time I decided where to go. I mean: it’s four years now that every night I keep coming back home and collapsing, dead tired, in a bed that’s different from year to year. From a psychological point of view, this can be quite hard. So, if that’s my destiny (by now I can’t figure a whole life in the same place), beeing the one that decides where to stay is a great achievement.
There are much more things to explain about these years, but writing in English is exhausting double and today has been a long day (a few hours of sleep, an exam with a very unkind assistant Professor and a desk to tidy) and I’m tired. I promise I’ll reopen the next post with a more pleasant topic, because I’ll talk about the city I went to study at University: I’m sure it will be more pleasant, I moved to Rome and Rome is the most beautiful city in the world.