Category Archives: Friends

Concentration

I’m back to ear plugs. I really should not, because of the middle-ear infection that has not been completely cured by the antibiotics since I found out I was allergic to them and had to stop taking them. Yet, I … Continue reading

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The Greengrocer (translation of an… interesting song)

I have been away for a while. Busy times, not enough time to focus on writing and nothing cheerful to write about. But now I’m back! I will continue with the Alphabet thing, but now I am compelled to write … Continue reading

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I know something now I didn’t before

When I was eight, we moved from Dalmine San Giuseppe to Mariano di Dalmine. Those are two different areas of the same city, which, if I am right, is composed of seven major areas, each of which includes a few … Continue reading

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B: What they want, I don’t know / They’re all revved up and ready to go

From 1964 to 1975: today’s song is “Blitzkrieg Bop”, which I have always called “Hey Ho”… that’s why I would always hear it from people or at gigs and never heard it myself. I had not listened specifically to Ramones … Continue reading

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De Lamentatione (About Complaining)

Quick consideration on life and everything: people complain. All the time, about anything, with anyone. And I do not think that there is anything wrong with this, I mean, complaining about stuff gives you a better view of things you … Continue reading

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Call 4894608 and I’ll be here

In order to write my last post better, I looked at the journal I kept this year. I am not talking about the journal where I depicted myself as a Government spy obsessed by cooking and shower times (that notebook … Continue reading

Posted in Events, Experience, Friends, Lists, Night blogging, Personal, Requests | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Suddenly I noticed that it weren’t quite the same / Feel different one morning, maybe it was the rain

Here I am, at Luton Airport, 22:33 of the 26th of June 2013.   This is the very end of my first year as a University student, in the UK -well, let’s make it sound less tragic: in England. In … Continue reading

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