I'm back from Paris for almost a settimana.Come every time I find myself thinking about the speed that I had to leave London lasciato.Quando the last time was terrible, but because it was not only beautiful city \u200b\u200bwith all its motions of life and the people who knew ladciavo but definitely the most imprtante closing chapter of my life so far: let Talon. The terrible thing in itself was not to see him go in the subway to High Street Kensington but that was in the days that followed I thought no more of him as the amazing person that I thought was fosse.Qualcosa cambiato.Ma that's another story.
As rigurda Paris, needless to say that I imagined diversa.Non best, not worst, just different, but still I was absolutely fascinated and amazed. It 's a city that seems to have stopped in 800 and also the people who live there, people from the cold but polite manner, and always well-dressed elegant with their beautiful speech that seem not to belong to the Caucasian race, not noisy and messy as the Italians closed and gray as the British. A breed apart, that is.
In five days I visited most of the city, from tourist areas such as Pigalle and Montmarte in areas such as the tres chic Marais.Un 'exhausting long walk around the Louvre and the Musee d'Orsay seemed to me the price for a 'whole day spent in the enchanting Pere Lachaise cemetery, where I finally was able to do a prayer in front of the tomb of Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde.
E 'was exciting and I'll put some money aside for I also have a tomb like the ones I saw angels with their faces turned towards the tomb and the hand that hides the tears or mini-castles for one bara.Stupendo, but nothing too impressive.
If I were to say what was the place I liked most was that I would certainly Pere Lachaise.
But, of course, my enthusiasm did not last for days despite all the 5 days have been quite happy and carefree considered my mood.
In a bistro, while others talked and laughed and joked, I wondered what I was doing there and how it happened to me other times it seemed that everything I did not made sense. What sense does it go to a city with two friends, what sense does a trip paid for by their parents for almost 22 years? Do not know.
It is not depression, credo.E 's just that the meaning of my life I still oscuro.Sto building my future without living the present, this is my thought impressione.E accompagato me during my stay in Parigi.Cercavo Chess saddened but not returning it on time and when there was nothing to laugh, I could not help but pensarci.E that 's why in addition to the nostalgia of a city that I would like mine, always accessible and "owning" a weary sadness that binds me to Parigi.Credo only when it's been a while, I can really understand how I feel today and how I felt then.
I'm not happy neither satisfied nor realizzata.Sbadiglio continuously and it seems to me to live in a constant state of fatigue as a perennial letargia.Dato I'm not studying anything, look at all the night the day, the only time I do not feel guilty if I sleep and do nothing.
Inert.
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