There is a manner in which certain things ask to be written, not so that they may be found, but because to exist in silence, for too long, eventually becomes insufficient. It is not urgency. It is something closer to a necessity that makes no noise, waiting patiently until it discovers the proper form. This archive was born in such a way.
Not as a diary. Not as a blog. Not as something that is updated merely for the sake of appearing alive. It is a place where certain thoughts come to rest, those which do not dissolve, those which return, those which insist with the silent obstinacy of things that truly belong to you...
# December Arrived Wearing Glass and Angel December in M. always arrives through shop windows first. Suddenly everything reflects light. Glass. Silver decorations. Department stores trying aggressively to convince people...
# My dad’s city has sea instead of answers Back in G. tonight. The train arrived late and the station smelled like cold metal, cigarettes, rainwater, and coffee strong enough...
E. brought one of those ridiculous magazine personality tests to school today and naturally the entire lunch table became psychologically unstable for forty minutes. So now I’m making my own...
E. believes most relationships are just two insecure people accidentally directing a tragedy together. Honestly? Brutal. Possibly correct. The thing about E. is that he notices performance instantly because he...
Tonight my room looked exactly like every other Sunday evening in M. Orderly in a slightly depressing way. Homework stacked properly. School bag ready. Rain against the windows. Radiators making...
School no longer feels temporary now. That’s the depressing part. In September everything still feels observational. You imagine personalities can change, groups can shift, maybe life itself remains flexible somehow....
November arrived properly today. Not through weather exactly. Through silence. Even Milan sounded quieter this morning, like the city itself understood it was Ognissanti and should lower its voice slightly...
Halloween still feels slightly artificial here. Like America exported plastic pumpkins and everyone politely agreed to participate without fully understanding why. Still, tonight felt strange in a good way. The...
I think missing someone has geography, certain cities make it worse. Today M. called while I was doing homework badly and immediately started complaining about Sampdoria with the seriousness of...
# I Borrow Her Perfume Like Other Girls Borrow Sweaters Some girls borrow sweaters from their mothers. I steal perfume identities (Just my Mom ones). Very sophisticated crime. When Mom...
Let’s talk about Dad… Dad never explains rules dramatically. He just behaves as if they already exist and everyone reasonable should understand them automatically. Very police officer mentality. His apartment...
M. belongs to G. in a way some people belong naturally to certain climates. I noticed it again this weekend. The sea makes sense around him. The wind makes sense....
Why?
Because every thought leaves a trace. If something moved you, disturbed you, softened you, or made you think, leave it here, quietly.