I just keep counting my days in America and the numbers get bigger and bigger, as well as experiences and awareness.
Day 144 – I was in bed, writing the pages of my diary, all the impressions, the thoughts, the love. Then, it came all of a sudden and disarmed me. That night, after all those nights spent running away from him, after the high volume of life, the notes of the cities, the laughs, all of that just for not having him around to investigate me, painful and pungent, I found it again. I heard the silence of which I was afraid for so long and for the rest of the time before I felt asleep, I enjoyed it.
Day 148 – Today, I’ve thought about all the times in the last few months I felt trapped, when returning to Rome from my trips. Once landed, I was already thinking about my next destination. Tonight, returning to New York City was not forcing me somewhere. I was happy on my way home and the city seemed beautiful and sparkling as never before. I didn’t want to run away because I still had so much to give, to take and days to breathe. (*Because I know, now, that it’s not a place that puts you in a cage, maybe it was just me who was a little broken.)
Day 154 – Today Boston. I’ve always loved weeping willows. I also asked my family to plant one in the garden, as if the willows were trees to cage in a fence. I don’t know why I always loved them so much: clumsy, bulky, independent. Perhaps because of that strenght in sucking life from the water, because of those thriving roots that keep them attached to the ground, unshakable. An example of strength and freedom.
But today I want to give you my eyes.