I don't get it...

... there is a lot of thing that I don't understand, no matter how hard I try. I'll write down a list before it gets lost in the labyrinth of my mind (dangerous place..). So there u go.. 

I don't understand:

1. ... british poshness and politeness. Not that it isn't fascinating to watch the english but I seriously think they can't be imitated in their manners.

2. ... my political views. I know where I'm standing but at the same time I don't. My dream for a better world is too crazy and peculiar to find people who share it.

3. ... why I'm still too shy to go and talk to my lecturer. especially when I know I really need to.

4. ... the crazy little person in my mind who continuously forces me to make choices I don't fully understand. He (is it a he? bah..) has his own peculiar reasons and is so kind to warn me with dreams before bombing my conscious plans. Still I don't really get what his plans are...

5. ... Evangelic Christians. 

6. ... why I feel the urgent need to break down and cry. Mourning the death of my dream. And all the deaths I haven't had time to mourn properly. 

7. ... evolutionary genetics.

John barleycorn must die

OH DEAR

random thoughts in random order.

1. occupation. Cambridge students are occupying in favour of Gaza. Demanding the intervention of the university. On that point sir: the occupation seems far to civilized to me. They are being very polite and very british. No bombs, vandalism, shouts, incovenients for other students, nothing, just pacific protest. Good Lord! so different from Italy. I didn't go and probably won't. Not because I don't agree but in name of my old good principle of not getting involved. It's either me leading the revolution or me staying at home. I'm there in spirit tho. 

2. I'm here at 4 o'clock in the morning, anguish, a bit of wine and will to course. (not to quote Francesco there..) same silly behaviour. same panic. same me. hell yeah!! but good point is that I'm loving in it. good news innit? I'll probs go to bed in a tick just for kicks, just to forget about all this, cough and die. Good plan. 

In the meantime

John Barleycorn must die 

HAMLET

(or the page-worth of notes I took before going to see the play..)

What was the last time I've been writing?

Bah, months ago. I find myself in the ADC bar with my snotty nose ready run after a dream. Alone. And that dream is not mine anymore. 

Is this a jump in the past? An attempt of resurrecting the dream? 

I'd rather say I'm here for cultural reasons, for Shakespeare. Not that I believe in this but it comes as a consolation in this crazy life. I've been here for less than a week and I already feel the lack of sleep, I'll pay for my late nights. But not now. Now I'm busy running, doing, dreaming, hoping.. and god knows what else. 

It has been months since I last asked myself who I am and in what I believe. 

Do I still believe in something?

***play*** interval***

I believe in Hamlet. 

In beauty. In the immense poetry of a forgotten language; in the joy of understanding, in only a word out of a thousand. I believe in that visage. No, not in THAT visage, I believe in recognizing a visage unknown as it was familiar because I've been hoping in it. I believe in placing my hopes in hope, amen. I believe in running away from reality in any possible way. In the dark of a theatre before the curtains rise and after they fell again. I believe in silence and in the power of the word. In the white page and in the black ink. In the immortality of art. 

It's not a matter of " to be or not to be", it's more a matter of leaving a trace of our passage, or leaving without people noticing. 

Hamlet left a trace of himself.

And I? 

(just realized in Italian it sounded much better.. the trouble of translation..)