24 hours in Milan or the G. experience – Part one: the arrival

“Am I in love? Yes, since I am waiting. (..) Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn’t wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late, but I always lose at this game. Whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover’s fatal identity is precisely this: I am the one who waits.” (Roland Barthes).

This is very subjective guide to how to spend 24 hours in Milan with the man with whom you are going to fall in love.

You know he will arrive in the afternoon around 4pm. At lunch time you are not hungry. You want to do some more visits of museums before he arrives. But your head is already somewhere in the clouds. So you end up sitting at the Café Fernanda of the Pinacotheca di Brera, a beautiful palazzo museum. You sip very slowly your cappucino, it has never been more delicious than this particular cappucino, it’s the capuccino of the day you will meet him. He sends you his location. The closer he gets to Milan, the faster your heartbeats. Even when his train stops somewhere in the middle and has a few minutes late, and he sends you again his location, even then your heart aches. He asks where you want to have dinner. He wants you to choose. He says he has a list of restaurants recommended by his friends but he will follow you anywhere you want to go.

You give him the name of the hotel where to join you. You were already in Milan a few days before his arrival. You tell him that you would leave his name at the reception. When he arrives he would just need to ask for you and you will come down. He sends you a heart emoji and a happy face.

From that moment your brain stops working. You walk around the streets next to the hotel but you do not really know what you want to do. He arrives in two hours. You go back to the hotel. You take a long shower. You pamper yourself. You smell good. He sends you more live locations. He is about 30 minutes away.

At 3.30 pm you come down to the reception to wait for him. At 4:00pm he let you know he takes the cab at the station and heads to the hotel. Ten minutes drive. Your heart stops beating. The heartbeats more and more irregular. You are stressed. It is not the first date. You have known him for almost two years. But you are stressed and excited and nervous. 4.20 pm, he is still not there. Traffic, maybe. Then he calls you. He is too shy to go to the hotel and asks for your name. He tells you he waits for you at the Swiss Corner, right in front of the hotel. You tell him you will be there in less than 3 minutes. He texts you a heart emoji and a happy face.

You cross the street. Enter the Swiss Corner bar. He waives for you. He has a big smile. He has the happiest face you have never seen. He gives you a warm long hug. Then he pulls you back a bit and look at you for 10 seconds exactly. Then he kisses you. The longest kiss of the century. No, really the longest kiss of the history of kissing.

(end of Part One: the arival…….to be continued)

You held my hands…

I have been unable to write after this concert with you.

You love the sound of guitar so I chose this concert for you. It was in the Catedral of our city. Saturday night.

You held my hands during the whole concert. When this piece of Piazzolla was played, my hands were in yours. The music of Piazzolla is one of my favorites. I have always loved tango music. It makes me feel melancholic. Sometimes even sad. I have never wished to listen to Piazzolla and my favorite piece “Milonga del Angel” with you by my side. I wanted to post on my blog right after the concert to describe how I felt. Then I could not so I just kept it to myself.

I wish everyone in this world could have the same moment. The Catedral was magical that evening. You touched my hands right after the first piece. And you did not let them go. During the break, you kissed me lightly on my right cheek, then on my hair and my forehead. I posed my head on your left shoulder. You kissed my hands. The two hands. Indifferently, left then right.

You kept my hands after the break. Now they played Bach. The same magic. Or even more. You moved closer to me. Even.

You held my hands that night, the whole night. You did not let me go. We could sleep in a single bed and still had enough space.

I fell asleep in your arms. My hands in yours. I could still hear Piazzolla and Bach. And also your breathe.

I did it…

I calculate how long it would take to cover your body with kisses.

I would pose my lips on each millimeter of your skin.

Each kiss would last one second.

It would take six hours. At least.

I would not leave out any part of your body.

I would take pleasure in doing it.

I would look at you in the eyes from time to time.

I would smile at you from time to time.

You would let me do it.

You would smile at me.

You would smile at me with your eyes.

You would kiss my hands.

You would return some of my kisses

By kissing me even longer and softer.

This would not be a dream.


I did it.

Eight hours.

Between talks.


And love.

I did cover your body with kisses.

Every inch.

You did return my kisses, each of them.

This was not a dream.

In between I remembered saying: I love…

Just “I love…” and no more words

I remembered you saying: “do you…”

And no more words.

This was not a dream.

The Great Gatsby or something else ?


“He smiled understandingly-much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced–or seemed to face–the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.” (The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald)

It is difficult not to like the new “The Great Gatsby” movie, simply because the text written by Fitzgerald was so beautiful. I read the book at high-school. I remember I did not understand the whole meaning of it. I was seventeen. I remember having an oral exam on the book and had to talk about Daisy. Last night when I saw the movie I realized that by the time I did not even realize that Gatsby was that much in love with Daisy. I did not remember at all the pain and love of Gatsby in the 1974 movie with Redford and Farrow. But this time it hit me so strong. Maybe because I am in love and I can now fully understand the kind of love and obsession Gatsby had for Daisy. For a moment I felt a bit uncomfortable during the movie. I was irritated because I was with a friend and when the movie ended I just wanted to be by myself and stay in silence but he kept asking me my opinions about the movie. I found the movie beautiful because each word written by Fitzgerald made sense to me. More by now than when I was seventeen. I finally understood Gatsby and the book. I felt pain because Gatsby’s dream pursuit was so absolute and impossible. It was unbearable to see such unique belief in love, in dreams, in conquests. I was touched and that was probably why I liked this new version of The Great Gatsby. I found it explicit, exuberant and extremely modern. Showing love in that way is attractive to me. But at night I had an very agitated sleep.

This morning I decided to go for a walk in the park to get for my mind some fresh air. The movie of yesterday evening still got into me. I walked through the park and took only pictures of the flowers. It was raining and cold for the month of May. But the colors of the flowers were absolutely perfect. In spite of  the grey sky the flowers still looked magical. It was strange. My eyes and my body were not in harmony because I got cold after a while but my eyes were completely satisfied with what I saw. It went on like that, this strange feeling during the whole time I was walking through the park. It made me think of my love for him. It is not always in harmony with what I think, with my brain but it does not matter. Sometimes my body feels pain of missing him, but my heart is so blessed that it does not matter. It was like the cold my body felt in the park. The imperfection of the moment. Yet the eyes were still captivated by the beauty of the flowers. My love for him is like the flowers in the park under the cold rain. A perfection remains in harmony with the imperfection of the situation. photo-152


Then my mind wandered back to the movie. I felt like Gatsby. Full of hopes and dreams and illusions. Innocence. Purity. Was it because of the movie? Or the book? Or the nature? Or the flowers? Or the love for him ? Or simply a bit of all of it together? I did not know the answer, yet it felt good that way.


I can’t believe in ugly souls


“While they are still alive, people can become ghosts” (Kafka On the Shore – Haruki Murakami)

I have never been closer to someone’s frustration and fear of rejection than in the last 24 hours.

Have you ever looked at someone’s eyes and all you can see is hatred and anger ? The words are hard, the voice of despair and anger, the body smell of failure, the whole world is to be blamed.

Have you ever looked at someone’s eyes and thought that one more second of that gaze and your beliefs and world would be ruined forever.

I have never considered someone as an ugly person. I have never dealt with violence and bad intentions. I embrace life and the world with the idea that if I can see beauty in everything in the roughest condition, someone else could see it too. If I could share my optimism, someone else can feel it too.

I have encountered ugliness during the last 24 hours. It shook me quite badly. I almost felt lost.

I don’t believe in mean people. I can’t believe in ugly souls.

I was scared this weekend.

I was scared that such encounter would change me.

Here I am, praying to find peace and love again.

Luckily I received words of comfort from my dearest friend from far away, I found back beauty. In him.

Everyone has his own beast or Beasts of the Southern Wild

2012_beasts_of_the_southern_wildThis was how I entered 2013 – I went to see this stunning movie

“Beasts of the Southern Wild”

Or the whole question is:

“Why do we stay where we love, why do we love the people we love, even if we know that bad things could happen right there…”

“Could we love the beauty which comes from chaos?”

“Could we dream out of survival?”quvenzhanewallis_beastssouthernwild2

And the voice of Hushpuppy, a five-years old girl who lives in the “Bathtub” with her father –

“When it all goes quiet behind my eyes, I see everything that made me flying around in invisible pieces. When I look too hard it goes away. And when it all goes quiet, I see they are right here. I see that I’m a little piece of a big, big universe and that makes things right. When I die, the scientists of the future, they’re gonna find it all. They’re gonna know, once there was a Hushpuppy and she lived with her daddy in the bathtub.”

“The entire universe depends on everything fitting together just right”

“If you can fix the broken piece, everything can go right back.”

“I can count on two fingers the number of times I’ve been lifted up”beasts_of_the_southern_wild_008

Before the movie, I was a mess.

After the movie, I was a mess.

Suffocated in emotions

Everyone has his own beast.

Which one is mine ?

To keep my love

squarelightWhen I stand at this square

My favorite one in town

I am blessed

It is not only my love for youlamp

It is everything

My eyes, filled with this vision of beauty

How could I not love you

When life is offered to me

In such fineness and purity

neigesurarbreNot only I could love you

I could love you

Without you loving me back

Or being with me

Everything is possible

In such beauty

I would never join you

To keep my love

I need to stay

Right herefontaine

I have a secret love

“I’m free, I think. I shut my eyes and think hard and deep about how free I am, but I can’t really understand what it means. All I know is I’m totally alone. All alone in an unfamiliar place, like some solitary explorer who’s lost his compass and his map. Is this what it means to be free? I don’t know, and I give up thinking about it.” (Kafka on the Shore – Haruki Murakami)

I am not only attracted to your external beauty. There is more about you than your beauty.

I always have a secret love for adventurers – the real ones. But rare are people who could be a real adventurer with no attach, no fear and true beliefs. You have no “clichés”, you are authentic. You have a philosophy of life which is simple yet difficult to live and experience when one is still too scared and materialist. You see life in such a simple way that sometimes I could just not understand. Because I am the one who has a hard time to get rid of books, clothes and stuff. When I talk with you, it seems like that there is only one path to simplicity, happiness and peace in mind. Mostly because you have no fear but only faith in what you truly want. You don’t need to stay in your comfort zone. Or better define your comfort zone is everything and nothing.

I am not only attracted to your external beauty. If I write about your beautiful personality, it seems easy to choose this way to describe you. I don’t like to put words in compliments. But I have to say, this time I could not avoid this process. I just want to write about your beautiful personality with my simple words and thoughts. Apparently you had accomplished something or you had done something to yourself to reach this simplicity in your way of living. And this amazed me.

A few days ago I watched for the second time the movie “Blood Diamond” with Leonardo Di Caprio. I always have a secret love for real adventurers. He was stunning in the movie. And so are you in real-life. The closest to this kind of hero – yes – you are. I cannot explain myself more than that. Some people develop a secret love for lawyers, boxers, artists. I just simply like the adventurers with a free spirit and an independent heart, the one I could never have and tame.

So it is true. I am not only attracted to your external beauty. There is something about you that makes this secret love always secret and unaccomplished.

I am just being snobbish

“I don’t know, there’s something about you. Say there’s an hourglass: the sand’s about to run out. Someone like you can always be counted on to turn the thing over.” (A Wild Sheep Chase – Haruki Murakami)





Are these words enough?

I would like to re-invent the vocabulary

To describe your soul

I would like to re-invent the notion of beauty

To depict yours

The universal beauty of you and your soul

However easy to describe

With any kind of words

I am just being snobbish

Because I just want to beautify you

With more than these