A couple of years ago I had a plan, or at least an outline of one.
“You’ve been abroad for so long and know so many languages and studied so many things. Why the hell are you still here?” They said. Everyday. In my small town back in Italy. I had another plan. A company, crazy events to organize throughout Europe, a house in the countryside with many dogs, a shiny blue sport bike, tons of friends, a girlfriend that I loved more then anything else.
Then I learnt. Life taught me. Even movies say it. “Don’t let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner.”
6 months later I was in Bangkok by a one-way airplane ticket, alone and with only a few hundred Euros in my hands.
“I really had forgotten the taste of freedom”. The freedom of survival in an unknown place.
“Ok but… why Thailand?”
Well, some skeletons in my closet, new incentives, a different world to explore and where I could be myself in another form. Also, unavoidably, a woman to leave behind, such in every story worthy of its name. You look like rain.
I didn’t regret the choice of coming to Bangkok for a single minute, even though it was very tough at the beginning. Living the dream is harder than expected, usually. The weather is great, a bit too hot sometimes, the food is good and affordable. And the Thai girls I met are some of the most feminine women I ever met in my life.
I became more stubborn, but in a good way, believing in myself for what I think could be a success. I caught vices I didn’t have, but I have more time to exercise too, therefore balancing the two things.
Now it’s 2 in the morning and I’m hungry, I’ll go out and eat something, alone with my thoughts into the night, the city, some stray dogs and the most devastating freedom.
I look like rain.
What caught my soul and kept pulling me by my hands steadily since the beginning, was the sensation of constantly living in a movie. Someone else’s movie. A picture show, where in a single moment I could not know the possible ending, or even the closest continuation of it.
Hours of sleeping lost and sensations gained. Following the flow can be sweet as making love if you put your heart in it. It’s just like being in Paris, but greasier and with more quick and dirty poetry. With almost no money, only a thought in my head: ”Show me what you can do”. I did pretty well, maybe, or I just didn’t do anything. What I like could be someone’s nightmare. However, when I wake up in morning and have my first coffee of another sunny day, I feel alive.
So my former plan got screwed up a little bit, and regarding me being here, well I don’t know what the hell happened to me, but you can read it on my blog.