Je veux construir. Mon amie, Marie Paule, m’a dit que le problème c’est trouver la personne. Et c’est ça: je n’ai personne avec laquelle construir, partager. Mais franchement, en ce moment je n’ai même aucune idée de comment on l’aurait essayé.
I want to build. A friend, Marie Paule, told me that the problem is finding with whom to do it. That’s exactly it: I have no one to build with, and at this moment I don’t even know how to, really.
I want to have a little apartment–small, but mine. A home made my me. Where I would cook for my friends and host parties. Where I’d play music all day, whose walls I’d paint rich colours and inhabit with plants. Where I could receive guests… in short, a little house. I need such a space to be and live, to grow my roots into.
Until then, I’ll have to abandon the desire to find my rock, and must find my stability nowhere but in myself.
“I’m here. I have a beard. I’m doing my MA in sociology. And after I’m done I’ll be off to whatever’s next.”
Translation of something I wrote a couple months back.