Warning: it will be a long post, take a beer from the fridge, if you're not alone to blame, and for God, at least a little ashamed '.
One year has passed since that night of May I was going to upload my beloved Golf with my few belongings, a wallet full of great expectations, no promises for the future and motivation. A year has passed since I sent to that country life for me now too narrow a job in a company too big for me, leaving a country that could not constipated (or can) offer no prospect for a future worthy and rewarding.
Many things have changed and I too have changed. I learned a bit 'of Germanes, I've forgotten more than the Italian average level of an engineer, my English is worse than ever. Is it time to pull some amount, to update the situation to understand a little 'how things are going, where I'm going and how I'm going ...
Well, I usually go on foot, by train or by bike, when not rains. Exactly ...
time in Berlin, Berlin is always time and there is little to say. It has a charm similar to what can be a respectable Cloaca Maxima with a broom in the ass. In any case, here are more confused than ever, if a try looking for a subspecies of estimates of the maximum time that we show a little 'vague about how the weather will be during the next few hours:
Black cloud, more sun, more lightning and more rain, a temperature minimum that differs from the maximum of at least 18 degrees ... And I call it a prediction?
The results are then shown below. From time to try it to see these poor girls who mistake the sun beetle in Central and Eastern Europe to the stifling heat of Riva del Garda to August 14. That day there were 4 degrees and she was walking around without socks, flip flops and a linen dress.
Ahimè, la mia Golf l’ho bella e che venduta. D’altra parte nulla è per sempre… Ora mi muovo solo con bicicletta e treni. Per questo sono sempre dentro e fuori da stazioni, treni, regionali e metro dove, in genere, si trova di tutto. Si va dalla signora senza un occhio con una benda ingioiellata da fare impallidire il più chic Capitan Uncino, allo studente in legge dal taglio alla paggetto degno del 1483, abbinato ad una felpa dell'Asics con camicia e cravatta (inguardabile) abbinate. Io non mi lagno, né critico il gusto degli altri per il vestire, in fin dei conti il mio gusto nel vestire è alla stregua di quello di una monaca dal ‘600 catapultata nel paleolitico.
Quando poi, però, sei tu che sul treno ti appisoli, tutti ti guardano male. Eppure dopo anni di ritardi sulle Ferrovie Nord, a me il viaggio in treno stimola il sonno. C’è qualcosa di male? No, perché se mi stimolasse la diuresi allora avrebbero certamente di ché lanciarmi occhiate lancinanti.
C’è una cosa che però ultimamente ha attirato la mia attenzione: in ogni stazione germanica che si rispetti sono presenti degli strani bidoni ai quali ho fatto un po’ di foto di straforo, essendo vitatissimi da ritrarre:
Ce ne sono dalle forme e dimensioni più disparate. Posizionati in posti strategicamente accessibili in caso di necessità, punteggiano le stazioni from head to toe, ready for any eventuality. You do not Helen E.. Puff! Pop up like pimples in the most unexpected.
The question is: what on earth contain? What is their ultimate goal? Their ends justify the means?
Once I get out even as an outlet for electricity. I investigated spending all my wit, using legal and illegal methods to extract information from unsuspecting and innocent passers-by railroad, I made subtly unmentionable things to discover the secret to these mysterious boxes, but my fatigue is not brought me closer to the truth more than Rutelli as recruitment is close to heaven with body and soul.
Just to use a word that does not exist, that everyone uses and with a "z" in the way, I can only ILLAZZIONARE:
are used by drug couriers for their shady dealings.
No, no, contain required riot police and sophisticated anti-terrorism systems.
'It,' it, eh! And if they were chock full of barley, malt and hops to prevent a lack of supplies such as to send Germany into chaos?
Found! Conceal the lost gold of the Nazis / maya / Eskimos.
the end I am convinced they are containers of happiness and love and peace in ano-soluble suppositories.
Yet nobody here seems to need more happiness. Not after I discovered the gold summer pastime: the KUBB. Considered by most the "game of summer 2010" does not spend a word on it more than those that I have reserved for Wiki http://nonciclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/Kubb .
do not know if I had already spoken, but Berlin is considered the European capital of electronic music (as well as the Kubb): people dancing for hours, bouncing to the rhythm of DJ unknown to ordinary mortals, which kills redbull just to pull of the sunrise and the means appreciating strippers put up those great cows of the cubist discos in Berlin. As lovers of electronic music that can not be a bit ' tamarri. Starting from an early age, but because here I miss the scooters do not know what they are and everyone goes around with the velocipede, you bring the bike to intamarrare. Here's an example:
(Hey there's a mysterious barrel in the background!)
Well, then do not complain if a Polish truck driver sober suck decides to polish his truck with chrome wheel trims splashing their blood
... As soon as you give children grow Germanes all'intamarramento car. I must say I have more taste of the Italians, they do things properly, without forcing their cars are all shiny and laccatissime even in the midst of a hailstorm. Of course, the turkish to turn with the Point 1100, four doors and flames on the cover of the plastic parts can purge a bull, is always there. Who, I wonder, on the face of this planet pig avrebbeil courage to go around in circles like the cover?
The Turks, in fact, are worse than a Southerner transplanted to the Gioia Tauro Pioltello. An example? Want to go to the barber and while you're thinking about changing the rims of your germanissima Audi A4? Go from turkish. Hairdresser with attached purchase and sale of car accessories, bicycles, gardening, health, and if you ask him kindly prostitute even their offspring.
About a turkish barber: the experiences of life are taught to never trust a turkish holding a razor, scissors or an electric clipper. It's not racism! But is that 'sti Turks are all combed the same if you just get a different cut reduces the hairstyle as that of a scarecrow with serious life problems.
unsuccessful I will not dwell on my progress with regard to the Germanic languages, especially with the Turks it is expressed in gestures, grunts and facial expressions. Now I just need a good speech therapist.
However, I am registered with AIRE, is a procedure that every Italian residing abroad must do if it wants to pull a hoe on the feet (and vote for what is now ...). Consular officers
you entered, you say that because you pay taxes in a foreign country, you will be subject to tax in some control over, as if so needed, so then there is the tax shelter.
A couple of signatures qqqua "two or three" tell "... Like crazy here all have a Roman accent we were not even at Tiburtina. All except the Caramba acceptance, being originally from South Tyrol, and he speaks perfect Italian South Tyrol and a Roman as a perfect Lapland.
The AIRE registration is completely painless, tasteless and odorless, but such change must go to an embassy, \u200b\u200ba fascist-style painted eyesore of candy pink subsided to give a soft tone to the architecture of the system. In view of the talk is taboo here in Germany of Nazism and Fascism, it probably built between that of Egypt in a pyramid-shaped and that South Africa Nelson Mandela was used to not notice it much.
In short, a year has already passed. Or maybe, just one year has passed. Points of view, of course, but the fact remains that I went on my way and that the road is taking me farther and farther away, toward maturity and independence so coveted. I am left with only one thing to finally find to be as happy as I want.
[...] When I lost
under so many stars,
we wonder what we came to do,
What is Love?
gather stronger still, let's keep
close to the heart.
[...]
