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Work Makes Man Noble

I’ve always had a twisted relationship with the working life, which means I have not still been able to understand how much this affects the private life and vice versa.

Until not long time ago, I was always complaining about how my work was destroying completely my inspiration and, above all, removing any will to do things: I was doing my duty as a good citizen, but I was letting the life slide on me, just looking forward to the weekends or holidays.

Living the Moment

We are postponing things too often.
“Let’s do it tomorrow, or this the weekend, or next month…”
And then, when December is approaching, we will start to postpone it to the beginning of the new year.
As if postponing things will bring an improvement or maybe a magic that will make them easier.

And That’s It

…I’m smoking another cigarette, and I’ve already lost the count for today.
It’s another wonderful day, not a cloud, temperatures between 10 and 15 degrees, and a sky so deep blue that makes you want to go…
And I think I’m wasting time locked in my job cage, especially when there is little or nothing to do, and time goes slowly while bored on Instagram, Facebook, and so on.
And smoking, of course.

Writing

In the last couple of months, thanks to my situation of being unemployed and thanks to the early arrival of the Scandinavian autumn, I do what I’ve always dreamed of doing: the full time writer.
Daydreaming? A way to deceive myself? Or just doing something to keep myself busy?

Money Can’t Buy Happiness

A few years ago, during the lunch break, I was talking to a colleague, mostly complaining about our job. As often happens in workplaces, where one feels more as companions of misfortune than just colleagues, we were deploring our job and, in particular, our salary that was always too low compared to the amount of duties and responsibilities we had.

The Will to Go

I often think about the endless landscapes of Argentinean Patagonia.

I do not need to look at the thousands of photos that I took then,  I carry these landscapes inside me and often they pop-up in front of my eyes, as a slow slide show, on the music of my melancholy.

And I think…

I think about the vastness, the  immensity, and a boundless nature so difficult to imagine and believe real.