Today the old man at the ticket office of Sint Servaant made us both pay reduced fare after pointing at him and asking if he weere a studenta and our grinning denial.
The choice is…either he decide I was a student all the same or that I was over 65…. don’t wanna know which of them.
Anche senza fiori…. il calore di “Casa” si sente… e pesa ogni volta un po’ di piu’.
….suddenly Virginia Woolf and her “A room of one’s own” feels actual. This seems to be my own private room.
Maybe it’s not “Day zero” but already “Day One”. Don’t know how you count time on occasions like this. When did it really start?
Like for creation we subside to conventions. This is day zero because it’s the moment we start to count and the moment we start to write. Hope it’ll do better than its predecessor. Some things will remain the same. Two voices, two brains, four hands and spare numbers.