I read a book by Alessandro Baricco, it's called "Ocean Sea". I read it in 2002 for the first time. I was a very young adolescent with a lot of hang-ups. I was in love with my best friend and I suffered because my love wasn't returned. He lent me this book and I read and I remember I loved every page of it. 

Then life goes on. 

I had a 6-year-relationship with another guy. He didn't like Alessandro Baricco, so I've never read anything anymore by him.

We broke up and I bought my book copy ten years later. I still love it.

I think that there is a way to live things you have to live. It's only a question of timing.

“…how it would be nice if, for every sea waiting for us, there would be a river, for us. 
And someone -a father, a lover, someone- able to take us by the hand and find that river -imagine it, invent it- and put us on its stream, with the lightness of one only word, goodbye. This, really, would be wonderful. It would be sweet, life, every life. And things wouldn’t hurt, but they would get near taken by stream, one could first shave and then touch them and only finally be touched. Be wounded, also. Die because of them. Doesn’t matter. But everything would be, finally, human. It would be enough someone’s fancy -a father, a lover, someone- could invent a way, here in the middle of the silence, in this land which don’t wanna talk. Clement way, and beautiful.
A way from here to the sea.”  (Ocean Sea, A.Baricco)

It's so white this blogger page. I should start from somewhere, somewhat, somewho. For more than two years I had The Holsteen Manifesto on my wall. I left my room, my house, my place, my country and far from them I began living what it's written in.