In a few minutes it will start on the calendar on August 31. In a few minutes it will already be a good time to go to sleep already on the new day; the last night here.
I will finally leave this uncomfortable bed and the violin spiders now kept away with poison. It will arrive soon September and, medical services (and not), will resume to work!
I can go back to moving in my car, although I use it very little because then I never know where to go, I don't know where I'm well.
On a strip of paper I lose the penultimate day, the 30th. It's almost 31 minutes away, and after this sleep, the next one will be on the ship.
In these last days I have waited so long to leave, to be able to return and, finally comes the time. As expected, a little nostalgia turns on as it grows. Nostalgia toward this summer leaving. There were no magical encounters and moments that made me feel relieved by the weight of these last periods.
He appreciates Marco, he appreciates what he has been. He appreciates that you've left and now you can come back!
The return turns off the voices of foreign tourists visiting here. Sometimes it is really nice to hear a spray of French, German or English because they make me imagine other worlds, other dimensions that are also part of the same.
What will I expect in September?
Will it weigh me in my four walls where I am a prisoner and when I leave them I find myself uncomfortable? Yet the dreams of a happy island remain and continue, from time to time, to visit me.
On the notes of summer music I greet summer 2023!
