Back home…

I just had a long conversation with Mama. She comforted me when I was suddenly afraid for a moment.The drive was tedious today. In Italy, it was still ok, but there were misunderstandings all the time and Dad was often overaroused and totally overreacting accordingly. I found that terrible. It ruined the drive for me, the last part of the holidays. I was in part really wishing we’d have a fatal accident. I didn’t want to arrive, didn’t want to continue my professional life. I wanted to keep that “escapist” feeling I had on holiday. That suspension of identity, time and place. In that state, I can walk around with sunglasses and painted lips, which I would be embarrassed about in B, because many people know me otherwise. In that state, I can eat deep-fried mozzarella sticks standing in front of a roadhouse and gossip loudly because nobody understands.


About annalienor

Lover of beauty, adult ballet student, deliberate creator wannabe.
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