I got no words to describe this country… … …
… … ok … … that was just a way of saying.

San Francisco is a huge and wonderful city.
It’s bridges, the ocean, the west coast.
I’m displeased I have not time to visit it now, but I will in less than four days.

People here is different, you can smell it.
They cross my stare without having fear of a match. Without any trace of embarrassment.
They’re proud of their country, and the feeling (looking it) is that they do well to do so.

Everyone is so polite, when I spoke with them, they always said me “you’re welcome”.
That makes you feel home.

Everyone here have so much experience to share…
… and I have much to absorb.

Finding the way to my sister’s house, (the bus that will take me from the Los Angeles airport to Mill Valley), I known a special person.

I have always had a good feeling with people… so once again that was not an accident.
She was looking at me, without looking at me. Her mask was not fitting well, so I did my work and removed it completely.

The conversation that I made with her from LA to Mill Valley was so interesting, and helped me to fix and reorder some concepts about american people, their lifestyle, and approach to religiousness.
When we arrived, she gived me a lift to my sister’s house.

My only regret is that I can’t give a name to this beautiful person, cause I don’t know or remember it.
Maybe after 20 hours of travel I missed some word… but she got my email and blog address.
So, why don’t you write me?

My sister’s house is beautiful… but once again, I don’t have time to see it.
Tomorrow we’re going to Los Angeles, I still have to write and arrange my notes about this very long day.
Also, after so much glow and deep arguments, this Icy arrival gave me the creeps.
Unfortunately I found a small part of my house’s mood here.
But It’s ok, if things are going to change, this is the right moment and the right place.

I’ll dedicate myself to the house, when I’ll have the time to do it.
Probably, that will happen in 4 days when we’re coming back from Los Angeles.

I never thought I would have published a part of my diary in my blog, but a lot of friends are trying to contact me and I cannot answer to everyone, due to logistical and time zones related problems.

I’m transcribing that from my notations, in September, 4th, using the correct date in that post publishing.

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Astonished, is the word that followed me in this full day of travel. The USA coast is really complex, especially the one around New York. It’s like a lagoon on the ocean, full of beaches and fjords, gulfs and bays.
But what surprised me more, is the american periphery.
Houses are surrounded by vegetation, inside woods where roads seems to be an exception.
Their architecture is all of the same few types, but they seem all unique for how they are preserved.Roads are always free, even if people is everywhere.
It’s like if the density of life is lowered down by the huge spaces of this country.
It’s hard to say how big the USA are, but they are, so much that they are full of nature too.
More than I thought.I stayed in New York only three hours, but I think I felt a few it’s atmosphere in that small period of time, and talking with people in the next days confirmed my theoryes.
NY it is a frenzied city where everyone runs like the Mad Hatter, having no time neither for a half cup of tea, neither for themselves.
They all see like puppets in a huge theatre. All is so vast and complicated, but they do it like a common ritual, an act they perfectly know cause their a part of it.
All works perfectly, like an engine or a clock, like if it’s an habit for them.People is so different here, there are not two equal persons, the only similar you can see are distinctly a family.
Every possible genetic mix lives or passes by New York, like if it’s a scientific laboratory.I spent every minute of my permanence here to investigate people, and everyone escaped my stare.
Everyone have a thick mask, and it wears it to reject other people’s glances, cause in a city like this you can see in a day more than 20 thousands of different persons, just going from Soho to Jersey.
However, a small part of them spoil the mask when you start talking, unplugging from it’s world for a while.With that intention, you can fastly split persons in two categories:

• The ones with iPod, that don’t wanna talk …
• … and the one without iPod, that wants to.

In my short permanence, I sold some Italian coins (especially the one worth 1 euro with the Da Vinci Wheel) for thrice their value plus a beer and a phone call.

Everyone is nice here with Italians, and reining the conversation do the rest.
Everyone wants to speak to each other too, but it’s worried of expose himself putting down the mask for first. Beer seems to have this use in this primitive culture.

Everyone also, have a story to tell.
But I have mine, and the airplane don’t waits for me…

… or at least that was what I thought, cause my airplane for San Francisco was very late.
Fortunately, looking from the higher rings windows the workers that was playing rugby with my luggage, made the time pass faster.

Flying, like in my dreams.

It makes me feel so happy, even if I’m sad.

Clouds hides the ocean, sometimes completely, carving strange corridors like creeks between hills and mountains.
The water is so deep like my thoughts, it leaves me observe the shadows, of the clouds themselves.

From here, it’s like if the sky is a world itself to explore and see.
A world that moves fast over the one we know, with his own rules and time, appearing, changing shape and disappearing every day.

Distractions are numerous. War american-style films runs on the screens.
They pretend to speak about important things, like life and death, love and courage.

A strong will is needed, to avoid the candies life is throwing at me.
I am a weak men, even if I try, I often fell in this corruption.
But I’m sure the answers are inside me. So, if that’s true, why I’m still losing my time?

Life is short, and even if I already did a lot, I’m just at the beginning of my path.
The world is so big, I see, and I know that what I’m searching for is not somewhere out there.

However, it’s something universal, it doesn’t care about who you are and where you are from, and that’s why I have to prepare myself the better I can to handle it.

That preparation, is itself a search of completion, that can’t avoid to be universal itself, and cause everything is subjective, I’ll have to be objective in studying it.

To travel can be important in that way, cause can make me face the same things in many different ways, like I always do.

I don’t know if I’ll manage to do it with my allowed time, but it worth a try.

I’m just the pieces of the man I used to be
Too many bitter tears are raining down on me
I’m far away from home
And I’ve been facing this alone
For much too long
I feel like no-one ever told the truth to me
About growing up and what a struggle it would be
In my tangled state of mind
I’ve been looking back to find
Where I went wrong
Too much love will kill you
If you can’t make up your mind
Torn between the lover
And the love you leave behind
You’re headed for disaster
‘cos you never read the signs
Too much love will kill you
Every time
I’m just the shadow of the man I used to be
And it seems like there’s no way out of this for me
I used to bring you sunshine
Now all I ever do is bring you down
How would it be if you were standing in my shoes
Can’t you see that it’s impossible to choose
No there’s no making sense of it
Every way I go I’m bound to lose
Too much love will kill you
Just as sure as none at all
It’ll drain the power that’s in you
Make you plead and scream and crawl
And the pain will make you crazy
You’re the victim of your crime
Too much love will kill you
Every time
Too much love will kill you
It’ll make your life a lie
Yes, too much love will kill you
And you won’t understand why
You’d give your life, you’d sell your soul
But here it comes again
Too much love will kill you
In the end…
In the end.

The silence covers the noise of the waves that are petting the rocks.
That is the end, the last minutes of peacefullness, and I already think about the way back home.
To the low routines and the usual useless days.

But this holiday is not the only thing it’s ending.

I watch the sky, it’s like me
Dark.
Sad.
Brooding… clouds.

I feel betrayed, once again.
It’s hard to tell how much it hurts, but it does.
Nothing happened, that’s true, but I can smell in the air, something is going to change.

I will never look them in the same way, I can’t.
I’m just… different. Does that makes me guilty?

I can only look forward, to the West.
To italy, but even more, to California.

I can only look towards the light.

I feel a deep emptyness into my soul.
Like If I’m missing something or someone really essential to do anything.

I’m unable to express myself, my feelings, and I’m thinking about starting to write in Italian for a while.

The problem is… that I don’t know if that’s the right thing to do, and, that I’m going in the USA for pair of weeks in September.

So, what sense it haves to write in Italian, if I should do some exercise to express myself in english?

I feel sweaty, hot flashed, like after a nightmare.
Like if I’m hunted.
Like if she’s tracking me, again.

I knew it… that I can nothing against her.
Soon or later, I will be a full bin again, ready to empty myself over someone else.

Once again, I feel powerless.