Indigo

I thought I had to go back to Stockholm once. I thought I lost something there, last year, and because of that I had to come back there and look for it. However that little piece of my heart that I've been missing for exactly 365 days didn't show up. Or at least it's still there in the club Tresixti, where I couldn't had the chance to enter due to Francesco's alcoholic status.

But it doesn't matter. Yet that city doesn't fit me. I realize myself that maybe it will be once, but not now.

I'm getting closer anyway. In fact I'm used to the wheather, my english is more fluent and I'm starting to cover cultural gaps. Also girls seem to be easier, to say it in a material way. But still something is strange and the environment isn't proper so far.

Even if the police doensn't like us peeing in the phone cabin and bouncers hate Francesco, drinks are crazy expensive and clubs close too early, old men in the street think of life and other philosofical issues, the italian barman at the pub gives you discounts while mature ladies are flirting with you, I still can't realize what's wrong and strange.

But when I took that picture of me, standing on that small port I was standing one year ago, I realized that, sooner or later, I'll feel that city closer to me because I know and I've always knew that there's something there that owns that little piece of my heart I've lost 365 days ago.