Dodici. P U R P O S E (?)

It has been quite a long time I haven’t written anything on this blog. Probably is for the same reason that today pushed me to stop for a bit and think and reflect. And question. And thank. And pray.

What I love about my blog is that at any point in my lifetime I am, the title truly reflects exactly the discourse that goes on in my mind. “This must be the place”: Ridgecrest, four years ago, was the place where I had to be, where the people of a village in the Death Valley gave my heart too unexpected much. “This must be the place”, I thought when I moved back to Italy in 2013 to get my second high school diploma. Let’s say though that in my mind was going on something more like, “hopefully this must be the place for not much longer than nine months” – for those who know me well, you’d kinda expect this statement for the love-hate relationship I have with my country. But I guess it had to be the place, as Turin is where I discovered again more about myself through the toughest and most intellectually satisfying year of high school and through my first true love, who has been my boyfriend, best friend and adventure companion since then. Finally, “this must be the place” was definitely what I quite disconsolately thought, when I dropped my three suitcases in the shittiest, most depressing, definitely coldest college room as soon as I arrived in Scotland. St Andrews, I guess it is still the place.

I know, whilst reading this getting-too-deep paragraph that was just to explain the blog title choice, you probably argued in your head that the title is just the fucking coolest song by Talking Heads and all that shit of giving a life meaning to the song title really is too much. If you did think that, I am glad. Because it all started only with my love for that song and no other super reflective sort of thing. (ok. Maybe just a little bit). Nevertheless, I keep being surprised as that “This must be the place”, even after years where I changed and grew up, never loses its meaning and keeps being as evergreen as pajamas outfit to go shopping in Walmart – maaaan I miss that too much.

One important new thing about this blog post – beside the super news that the blog is actually resurrected from the web oblivion -- is that I am writing in English, although in Italian it would result waay more representative of my million moods. I chose English though, because I would like my words to be read by all those people that are vital in these lines, which I am about to try to transfer from my heart to my head to my hands. Also, as I initially said, today in particular I was pushed to reflect, question, thank, and pray. I am probably about to be very boring and reflective, and for this reason I imagine this blog post will not result as witty and sarcastic as the previous ones were. My apologies.

Today, after I jumped on the bus riding towards the airport in Milan, I felt like empty in my chest. This always fucking happens when I am leaving any sort of place – defo any but the hospital -- , but for your luck I do not really care about writing these many pages of complaints for how unfair life is and how we were meant to suffer and all this shit every single time I feel this emptiness. Today though, I feel like sharing my thoughts with you, especially with those of you that left way more than a big footprint on my heart.

Today after hugging my mom, I literally felt like a part of me was just staying there, like she robbed me with of a piece of meat I needed to survive. And it fucking hurt. Today, my boyfriend is starting his adventure of six months in Singapore. And this also fucking hurts. Today, I would like to stay with my family, my mom, my dad, my brother and my relatives; today I would like to hug all my friends in Italy and go party with them; Today I would love to hug my American parents, Patti and Joe, as I have been hoping to see their smile for too long now (and who are hopefully not gonna betray me and vote for Trump). Today I would love my grandma to still be here next to me to encourage me to follow my dreams, to be great and to believe in myself.

This all hit me at once. On the highway to the airport in Milan. And believe me, if you just saw that sad and horrible highway, you would cry as well for its outlook. Not the most recommendable landscape, honestly.

My question was that then, is it worth it? Why am I doing this?
Why did I choose to always leave, to always suffer? Why was I never meant to settle down in my country and be satisfied of a more tranquil life with my cat and family?
Why my closest friends always leave and follow their path as I am doing?

Sometimes I just need to surrender and admit that my heart is not strong. That I cry loads whilst floating in the past memories and the uncertain future. That it is now very hard for me to open up to new people because as soon as they become closer it is time for them or for me to change the backdrop of the stage of new adventures. It is quite funny thinking that I was totally denying how fragile we are when trying to make my friend Sonia feel better. Off the record, yes, she is one of my closest friend in Scotland, who was moving to Prague, and now just left to go back to Poland and I wonder when will I see her again.

Se yea, what is the purpose. What is the fucking purpose of always leaving, always being left. Always counting only on your strength. What is the purpose of being born wrong and eternally unsatisfied. Eternally hungry of life and eternally hurt by life.

If you know please contact me and send me your blessing – maybe some amazon gift cards as well – . Nevertheless, all this bullshit of mystery of life and destiny ­sometimes drives me crazy. Like who is that motherf****r that decided that I needed to daily wake up in the morning, work my ass off as waiter, run to class and struggle to write an essay in English, and, more broadly, I needed to leave beloved people in a warm country and fly to a place where in May it snows. Like it’s not even more about suffering metaphorically for parting. THIS IS NOW ABOUT PHYSICALLY SUFFERING THE COLD. In May.

So yes. Whilst I keep waiting for my blessing and amazon vouchers from up above, I decided that maybe there is no purpose – let’s be relative once though, maybe there is.
Maybe the glass is both half empty and half full. 

Probably there is none, probably we invent one along the way.
Maybe this big girl dog of life is not for the end but for the journey.
And that’s when I thought I had to thank. Because although many times I end up hurt from the goodbyes, behind them there were almost always huge presents that I still today hold with me. Even though I am not thanking you every day and you might think I forgot we met. Even though you might not even know you left something to me. 

And I am talking to you, brother, mother, father, oops parent, boyfriend, relative, professor, American, South American, Italian, European, Asian, African friends.  Thank you for the print you left in my path and journey. Although it might have hurt.

I left Italy and I think I am following a path that will find me more satisfied in the future. More satisfied with who I will become and what I will accomplish. And although saying goodbye to you was hard, although our paths were meant to cross only once in our own lifetime, today I really felt like I needed to stop and thank. Although I was angry at myself for being born wrong. I felt all at once like that emptiness was gone and my heart was suddenly filled with the joy I experienced from knowing you. 

Therefore I thank you for stepping in my way, leaving me so much without me asking, hurting me with your goodbye and making me feel alive. Giving me this feeling and this gift that everyday keeps me going. Therefore also, I pray – don’t know exactly whom but I guess some amazon vouchers can still arrive from somewhere above there. I pray for myself and for you. I hope me and you and your friends will be able to find great people along the way that make us grow up and give us love and PURPOSE, although there might not be one.

So today, when I left my mom, when my boyfriend left and when I felt alone and lonely on this fucking planet. I actually found purpose.
And sometimes, it definitely fucking hard to find one, when you feel like this bitch of life is just going against you.

Remember sometimes to stop and think, although I hope you don’t decide to do that on the highway to Milan airport.