The Lost Head of Damasceno Monteiro

I got the title of this post in my mind just half a second ago. When you start doing something new, it’s a good questions to ask yourself. Of course the world doesn’t need another weblog, but I need it.

Once,a friend told me:’remember, baby, you’re not the centre of universe’.Nobody is.

For sometimes now I was thinking about writing something in english. If you speak another language, in some way you ARE another person.I like to be another person sometimes.In another language.

When I was working in Albania, almost twelve years ago, I was dating a guy.Or he was dating me. However, it’s always a matter of perspectives. It was true both ways. He was (actually he is, is alive and in good health, just father of a girl of a couple of weeks)a very nice person. I really loved him, and he was good in many things (no added comments on this point please), includind speaking foreign languages. His italian was great, and is english too.

At that time my english was really a shit (perhaps now is not better, but I like to think so)and then in Albania everybody was speaking perfectly italian.

Albanians were watching Italian tv and considering Italy like Italians considered America sixthy years ago. Only problem:they could just swim to Italy, which caused a lot of trobles with immigration police.

So, coming back to him, I knew him in Italian, that’s it. When we were at those international work meeting, speaking in english, it was like I was with a stranger. I could not recognize him.

Maybe now, if someone will read this post, will laugh, but I can say that even making love (or sex, or whatever intimate stuff) was in italian.

As many other things in my life, I started this blog months ago. Then I abandoned it. Like a book you started, and is not the right time for that book. You leave it, and then maybe after years, you start reading it again and you finished it in just one night. It happened to me many times.

Five years ago I started another weblog in italian. At that time I didnt even know what a weblog was. I was just back from my last job in the last country abroad.

I was tired. Of everything. Of myself, of my life. I was exausted. Yes, I had one of the most interesting life I could wish, but it bleed me dry.

And then I was back in Italy. Alone. Tired. Exausted. In my parent’s home. No job, No money. It was nightmare. I had a psychological collapse. Closed in my bedroom for two months, in the dark. Lost ten kilos.

I  had a story with a girl. Which now looked incredible to me, but it happened. I think because I was so disappointed of the kind of love men offer to women, to think that  a woman could have been better. Was just shit.

She was more man than a man. And now it’s not that I think the same on men like years ago. It takes time to find a balance. It take experience. If you suffered like a beast but then , like a miracle inside yourself, you open your eyes and you’re still alive, it  meant that what you’ve learned: it didnt kill you but made you stronger.

So, in this situation, one night chatting with a friend of mine on the net, he said he was going to read some blogs before sleeping. And I asked what the hell was a blog(?!)

After that, I started writing on this fresh new created blog of mine (in italian), which now counts almost 90thousand visit.

Through the pages of this blog of mine, I got to know some of my very good friends in real life at present. But year after year it what happened was that I felt less and less free to write openly my thoughts, my desires.

When people then got to know you out of these pages, you feel you’re not free like you were before, when nobody knew you.

You got something, but you had you leave something back.

Maybe this is the main reason why I’m here now. To be a stranger amongs millions of other stranger.

Until it lasts.

Don’t you?