Stylo Noir in Paris

I wake up.
After 7-8 bad hours of sleep.

I move the curtains. I see Paris skyline, plunged into the rain. A thin, invisible rain that whisper that winter is coming.

Alone i look outside. And when sky i so grey i realize how the whole face of this city changes. I wash my face, and i have a weird breakfast.

Then i think of those i left in Rome, under the sun.

The majority of the peolple i left in Rome did not understand why i moved.

They don’t feel guilty, or responsible. But they are scared to write me, to ask. Or maybe they just do not have the capacity to undertand. I always over-estimated some persons.

With all this distance i realize that truth is so different: i thought to have many friends there. Nope. They made gossips and disappeared. They asked me to work for free … “friends” stuff and blah blah. Big part of them never wrote, never asked. Other just wrote to say ” oh great you live i paris now? good i’ll visit you so i won’t have to pay the hotel”. Wow… what a style. I’m happy to have recognized these persons. And in the future, i won’t be so naive. I’ll know how to treat them.

On the other hand i’m having a great feedback from other persons. I miss them a lot. I miss my boyfriend of course. But distance is such a good teacher. I notice things i never saw. I suffer, but this pain is making me stronger. Leaving is a kind of declaration of indipendence. A declaration of how strong someone can be. And the weaks are envious of such actions.

That’s how i feel it right away. Rome is a great city, i was just surrounded by assholes.

And what about me? well i’m working and working and … working. I have about 3-4 free per day, and i am testing new games… so i really feel kind of alienated!

I’ll have to find some motivations to enjoy more the city. It would be easier if french people weren’t so cold. Or should i say people from Paris.

Anyway i perceive it now as the city of the Arts, and loneliness.