“A Blanket, Churros, and New Words”

The protagonist of “Apex Hides the Hurt” is a terminology consultant. If someone needs the right name for his or her new product – whether it’s a car or an antidepressive, a snack or a spoon -, he’s the one.

Through The Mirror

Winter. High-necked sweaters, steaming mugs, hearty plates and duvets. Fireplace. The snow. Chat with friends in front of board games away from attics and cellars.

“All he felt now was envy. These people had expectations. Of the world, of the future, it didn’t matter–expectation was such an innovative concept to him that he couldn’t help but be a bit moved by what they were saying. Whatever that was.”
― Colson Whitehead, Apex Hides the Hurt

I always imagined that when I went to live on my own, I would spend the winter like that. I don’t know if I thought I’d become a millionaire all of a sudden to buy a chalet complete with a fireplace and rooms for each visitor, or just as a good screenwriter I let myself be carried away by fiction, because I live there alone, winter is coming, but not only I don’t have a fireplace…

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“Am I still young?”

Well. I had resumed going out quite consistently over the weekend, if I didn’t have to work, then a World Pandemic broke out … ..

Through The Mirror

On a Friday night, it was once a disco with the guy. Then pub with friends. Then fish night with the family.
… now it’s washing machine night.
Something must have gone wrong at some point, but I don’t understand what.

To be honest, if I wanted to go out, I would just have to text someone and I would find some friends right away. The point is: I don’t want to.
And it’s not just because I’ve worked so hard this week and I’ve had the flu (to tell the truth, I’ve worked with the flu), it’s a general feeling of being old.

The first symptom was when my friend Luna told me she was going to an outdoor concert and I told her to not forget the sunscreen rather than flirt with the cutest guy she could find.

But who am I kidding? This is not the first…

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“Il vero Capodanno”

L’anno scorso scrivevo questo: E niente, sei tornato. Come ogni anno. Non ci si può fare molto... Che poi non è nemmeno colpa tua, non hai scelto tu di essere proposto come l'inizio della fine. Non hai scelto di essere un lunghissimo lunedì. Non hai certo deciso di avere la responsabilità di chiudere l'estate, né …

“A Blanket, Churros, and New Words”

Winter. High-necked sweaters, steaming mugs, hearty plates and duvets. Fireplace. The snow. Chat with friends in front of board games away from attics and cellars. “All he felt now was envy. These people had expectations. Of the world, of the future, it didn't matter--expectation was such an innovative concept to him that he couldn't help …