I love when a city that was strange months ago, becomes this regular place; like a neighborhood, one of your homes. I cannot say my second home, I have plenty of those, at least three: Guadalajara, Barcelona and Paris, in terms of houses, it´s a lot, you have to love them all, how many loves of the same kind can one shelter?.
Although, Milan is becoming so familiar lately, like a new friend that feels old. Of that I know well, I met one of my BFFs in the last few months and we feel like old family nowadays. If you believe in reincarnation and that sorta stuff, you can understand. The first time you meet this type of people seems new, then a couple of days later it feels like forever, like old friends, as if we both were diaper-changed together, or twins split up when born. Now she writes and so do I, her future is success, mine is too. I always wish it is, I hope it is and I work so it can be for sure. Four weeks ahead in time from right this moment I update my status and I end with the phrase, "I love my life". I do, I love my life. Happiness is success. I am happy. Ergo, I´m successful. I have everything I dream of, everything I wish for and I work to make wishes a full choice, one I decide to take. Like a man.
The universe was the one who suggested me to think of today as if it is four weeks ahead. Not that I deny my current existence, four weeks before of this four weeks ahead, everything´s beautiful and I am where I have to be; and of that I´m grateful. My current life is pretty fantastic. It´s just that envisioning makes you build a better scheme, gets your project even more refined; thinking four weeks ahead it´s not just wishful thinking, it´s seeing what you already have ahead in time, a glance of your own future.
Thinking four weeks ahead it´s a tool that gets me faster to where I want and I´m meant to be. The universe is very hi-tech; the advice I received was via email, and when saying good bye, it´s usually on a warm way that makes me feel even closer. Closer than when I see a succession of 1s or a feather in my path. I see those even here, in Milan; just yesterday while running 10 K through out some of the city streets I checked some out. I see. I listen. I learn.
Milan feels like home now. I don´t speak italian but I do. No matter what, I end up having conversations about everything and anything in italian, and when I get stuck, I would say it in english, spanish or french (in that order), and they would say the word in italian; then I would fit the new word in the phrase. There you are, that´s me speaking the language that I have never studied.
Trivialities seem more important when said in italian, especially for a non italian speaker. The language presses so much drama to ice creams or directions, such a passionate joy. You know how they say french is the language of love? well, italian is the language of drama, fake and artificial, but only in the beginning, afterwards one understands that that passion and that drama it´s 100% authentic.
Italian is probably to sexy, what french is to love. If your order a double espresso, long and with sugar in it, you will end up sounding as if you're insinuating an "indecency" to the hot waiter. No matter the gender, the server will end up nodding and looking at you smiling, staring at you directly in the eyes and fanning those curly thick eyelashes. "Chiaro. Di subito|". They would say kindly.
Yesterday I ran 10 K through out Milano. It felt new and also old; like every time I run over Paris, San Diego or from the pier in San Francisco to Sausalito. New because I passed by buildings and squares I´ve never been before. Old because I told the city: "you are home". It´s home when I decide to caress its pavement with my feet, my running shoes. "I like you and I go around you as I please because we own each other in a way". Running through out a city is for me just like what I do when I stay at a place that´s not mine. I move furniture around and add a tiny little thing that wasn´t there before (can be incense or a candle). That way I make the space mine, it´s different than what it was before I got there.
To the accords of an old piano, with a dusty sound in the back, I look out of this tall window, of this apartment, in this avenue and I look at this lady passing by. What would I think if I was her and I´d see me seeing her (in that case me as well): who is this guy, why is he there? must be awesome to live in this area, does he go often to this candy place? where does he take his coffee?
I don´t drink coffee. I always prefer green tea.
Since the very first moment we take misconceptions as truths. She must be married and she´s looking for school material for her children, they just got back to school.
No, she isn´t married and loves to walk around here. She´s secretly in love with the owner of the Bakery. Whom loves his wife. Whom loves the milk man. Whom loves her back.
First time I came to this place after the first couple of times (years and years before that), I practiced a couple of phrases so I could get myself around. Today I just let myself go and I talk to Elisa, a blond skinny girl from the dog park. We talk about how crowded the park gets later and how Leo, her dog, and Dharma, my bitch, get along. Meaning Leo runs around Dharma playful and enthusiast, back and forth to the limits of this confined canine grassy paradise, while she ignores him and sniffs around looking for the perfect scent that will make her pee, pee even more and then pee again. She´s into smells, that´s her fetish. My bitch, making daddy proud.
I remember when my mom suggested I´d listen to what life was telling me at every step. When you´re young you really don´t listen, not often to your mom, let alone the universe. The idea is so vague and abstract, it´s so hard to deal with this sorta concerns when you´re head is full of youth and inexperience. I was 22 I think. Today I still feel like 22. Only by now, I have experienced emotions, trips, people and I have given a long thought to subjects that seemed irrelevant before. That has opened my head, but most important, it has opened my heart... And probably my third eye and all. Did I say that out loud?
Opening a package, getting rid of instructions and the box, and just plugging the thing in without any fear of consequences. That has been me many times. Not that I´m proud. So many times I needed to read instructions before, but even more times this recklessness has taking me places and made me who I am now. Maybe that same rashness is the one that has put me where I am right now. For that I´m grateful. Where was I? Oh yes! Feels unfinished? It´s not, it´s just an anti cathartic paragraph.
Now my friends are different. We are all damaged in some way, bonly or wounds are alike. We also love, we all love with no boundaries. Some take long to say I love you, but at the end we all say it and we mean it. We connect in another level and share points of view. We also have been taking care of the same kinda hurts; some times we carry the same scars. Thyroid tumor and treatment or being dumped the same way by the same sorta person. Bruises look similar among my friends and I, maybe we were injured in the same accident and we don´t know it. By this moment we are all happy enough to cure each others hearts by having a ton of fun and telling happy stories, all sorta stories. We laugh a lot, we got rid of the stones that teenage usually makes you carry on the back. Now I write them and share them. The universe have put us in the same road, we wave hello and decided to stop for a coffee in this dinner. The waiter is not italian, but looks like James Dean. He smokes and also carries a broken heart. Anyways he smiles and shows perfect teeth.
In the end Milan is the place there I am today. In three more days I´ll be back home to Paris and there I will shape myself and my future. First things first. I will kiss and pet my cats hello, walk the dog and then post again here. Pour my thoughts I thought were in order and let them out like the faucet that´s next to me; so stormy, the water comes out as if the ocean wants to come out of there. Hope the pipes can support that.
Running makes me happy. Every time I do it, I thank for every single step I take, for being able to do it. Life is a gift, and I think we all should live it as that, a present that is given to us and that´s being renewed every second. For mine I´m grateful. I always am.
Although, Milan is becoming so familiar lately, like a new friend that feels old. Of that I know well, I met one of my BFFs in the last few months and we feel like old family nowadays. If you believe in reincarnation and that sorta stuff, you can understand. The first time you meet this type of people seems new, then a couple of days later it feels like forever, like old friends, as if we both were diaper-changed together, or twins split up when born. Now she writes and so do I, her future is success, mine is too. I always wish it is, I hope it is and I work so it can be for sure. Four weeks ahead in time from right this moment I update my status and I end with the phrase, "I love my life". I do, I love my life. Happiness is success. I am happy. Ergo, I´m successful. I have everything I dream of, everything I wish for and I work to make wishes a full choice, one I decide to take. Like a man.
The universe was the one who suggested me to think of today as if it is four weeks ahead. Not that I deny my current existence, four weeks before of this four weeks ahead, everything´s beautiful and I am where I have to be; and of that I´m grateful. My current life is pretty fantastic. It´s just that envisioning makes you build a better scheme, gets your project even more refined; thinking four weeks ahead it´s not just wishful thinking, it´s seeing what you already have ahead in time, a glance of your own future.
Thinking four weeks ahead it´s a tool that gets me faster to where I want and I´m meant to be. The universe is very hi-tech; the advice I received was via email, and when saying good bye, it´s usually on a warm way that makes me feel even closer. Closer than when I see a succession of 1s or a feather in my path. I see those even here, in Milan; just yesterday while running 10 K through out some of the city streets I checked some out. I see. I listen. I learn.
Milan feels like home now. I don´t speak italian but I do. No matter what, I end up having conversations about everything and anything in italian, and when I get stuck, I would say it in english, spanish or french (in that order), and they would say the word in italian; then I would fit the new word in the phrase. There you are, that´s me speaking the language that I have never studied.
Trivialities seem more important when said in italian, especially for a non italian speaker. The language presses so much drama to ice creams or directions, such a passionate joy. You know how they say french is the language of love? well, italian is the language of drama, fake and artificial, but only in the beginning, afterwards one understands that that passion and that drama it´s 100% authentic.
Italian is probably to sexy, what french is to love. If your order a double espresso, long and with sugar in it, you will end up sounding as if you're insinuating an "indecency" to the hot waiter. No matter the gender, the server will end up nodding and looking at you smiling, staring at you directly in the eyes and fanning those curly thick eyelashes. "Chiaro. Di subito|". They would say kindly.
Yesterday I ran 10 K through out Milano. It felt new and also old; like every time I run over Paris, San Diego or from the pier in San Francisco to Sausalito. New because I passed by buildings and squares I´ve never been before. Old because I told the city: "you are home". It´s home when I decide to caress its pavement with my feet, my running shoes. "I like you and I go around you as I please because we own each other in a way". Running through out a city is for me just like what I do when I stay at a place that´s not mine. I move furniture around and add a tiny little thing that wasn´t there before (can be incense or a candle). That way I make the space mine, it´s different than what it was before I got there.
To the accords of an old piano, with a dusty sound in the back, I look out of this tall window, of this apartment, in this avenue and I look at this lady passing by. What would I think if I was her and I´d see me seeing her (in that case me as well): who is this guy, why is he there? must be awesome to live in this area, does he go often to this candy place? where does he take his coffee?
I don´t drink coffee. I always prefer green tea.
Since the very first moment we take misconceptions as truths. She must be married and she´s looking for school material for her children, they just got back to school.
No, she isn´t married and loves to walk around here. She´s secretly in love with the owner of the Bakery. Whom loves his wife. Whom loves the milk man. Whom loves her back.
First time I came to this place after the first couple of times (years and years before that), I practiced a couple of phrases so I could get myself around. Today I just let myself go and I talk to Elisa, a blond skinny girl from the dog park. We talk about how crowded the park gets later and how Leo, her dog, and Dharma, my bitch, get along. Meaning Leo runs around Dharma playful and enthusiast, back and forth to the limits of this confined canine grassy paradise, while she ignores him and sniffs around looking for the perfect scent that will make her pee, pee even more and then pee again. She´s into smells, that´s her fetish. My bitch, making daddy proud.
I remember when my mom suggested I´d listen to what life was telling me at every step. When you´re young you really don´t listen, not often to your mom, let alone the universe. The idea is so vague and abstract, it´s so hard to deal with this sorta concerns when you´re head is full of youth and inexperience. I was 22 I think. Today I still feel like 22. Only by now, I have experienced emotions, trips, people and I have given a long thought to subjects that seemed irrelevant before. That has opened my head, but most important, it has opened my heart... And probably my third eye and all. Did I say that out loud?
Opening a package, getting rid of instructions and the box, and just plugging the thing in without any fear of consequences. That has been me many times. Not that I´m proud. So many times I needed to read instructions before, but even more times this recklessness has taking me places and made me who I am now. Maybe that same rashness is the one that has put me where I am right now. For that I´m grateful. Where was I? Oh yes! Feels unfinished? It´s not, it´s just an anti cathartic paragraph.
Now my friends are different. We are all damaged in some way, bonly or wounds are alike. We also love, we all love with no boundaries. Some take long to say I love you, but at the end we all say it and we mean it. We connect in another level and share points of view. We also have been taking care of the same kinda hurts; some times we carry the same scars. Thyroid tumor and treatment or being dumped the same way by the same sorta person. Bruises look similar among my friends and I, maybe we were injured in the same accident and we don´t know it. By this moment we are all happy enough to cure each others hearts by having a ton of fun and telling happy stories, all sorta stories. We laugh a lot, we got rid of the stones that teenage usually makes you carry on the back. Now I write them and share them. The universe have put us in the same road, we wave hello and decided to stop for a coffee in this dinner. The waiter is not italian, but looks like James Dean. He smokes and also carries a broken heart. Anyways he smiles and shows perfect teeth.
In the end Milan is the place there I am today. In three more days I´ll be back home to Paris and there I will shape myself and my future. First things first. I will kiss and pet my cats hello, walk the dog and then post again here. Pour my thoughts I thought were in order and let them out like the faucet that´s next to me; so stormy, the water comes out as if the ocean wants to come out of there. Hope the pipes can support that.
Running makes me happy. Every time I do it, I thank for every single step I take, for being able to do it. Life is a gift, and I think we all should live it as that, a present that is given to us and that´s being renewed every second. For mine I´m grateful. I always am.
<3
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