The spoilt part of the land

Fingers are sliding over the keyboard.

It seems they have nothing to say.

No way!

Keeping, always keeping.

Deep, there in the bottom.

Hundred of millions of things happened. I'm still surprised about that, although what else should one expect from a uwc. Shaking one's beliefs, endless theatre crisis, sudden disappearance of self-confidence, lying on the stage looking at the sky and talking to oneself, the return of Paca, Suissane, Italian ragazza...

It is not possible to have a normal life here... but anyway, nobody came here looking for one!

I think that lately I'm getting too much introverted... and I wonder when it's going to stop. I'm almost never feeling like party or going out, I'm even finding myself, sometimes, thinking that I wouldn't mind that much to be left alone in the world for some period...

Actually, I'm afraid of isolating myself too much, but hey, the other way round isn't good either. Heroic tension, that's it. ("Based on psychological term "enantiodromina". Like a pendulum, if our emotion goes to one side it has the capacity to go to the other. 'Black only becomes black when it is introduced'.") --> You see? Theatre was/is eating myself, and maybe that's why these days I find it so complicated to get into characters. Maybe myslef wants a revenge.

Suissane is taking me to the spoilt part of the land she's growing in... and Paca is getting so worried about it.