Wednesday, March 21, 2007


I am a guest on this planet. I really believe it. So it is easy, for me, to think it, say it and even write it. It means also that sooner or later whoever asked me to come here will call me back. I don't know when it will happen. But I know it will happen. I will die. Maybe a cancer. May be something else. But it will happen, I know. Of course I know. But today when I was told by my parents that a good friend of mine back in Italy has a cancer it was so difficult to accept. It is hard to accept that the friend you were used to play basketball in the gym, the friend who shared with me notes of the high school math classes has few chances to survive to the next few maths. When I was told today about this, I just thought to take all my savings and go to live in Thailand or Nepal or somewhere else and just do what I love to do. Most likely I want do it. At the same time I am thinking. What does exactly means that I am a guest on this planet? Probably that I don't own what I see, I touch. And that probably I don't own my life. Strange to think. But probaby it is true.

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