Journal

#Day03 Home is where your heart is #Writing101

I spent most of my life in a big city. When I was teenager I felt something that made me strange, the big city wasn’t my place, so I spent most of my time traveling, alone, with my friends or my family. I love traveling, discovering new places, but I’ve always looked for the perfect place to live.

I never found it.  

I always know Italy isn’t my place, Italy is the roots of my story, but I belong to another place.

I felt in love with Paris, but I never lived there, it’s a big city like Rome, I don’t like big cities. But it’s like a spell, everybody fall in love with Paris, and its melancholic romantic aura.

I felt in love with the South West of the United Staes, but it was far away for me, I wasn’t ready for leave Italy to America.

I felt in love with London and its classy style, tea rooms and bookstores. The rainy English countryside, a cozy cottage.

I looked for this dreamy place for a while but finally I undestood:

Home is a state of mind 

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Romana adottata dalla Francia, leggo troppi libri e scatto troppe foto. Predicatrice folle di #librisultavolo #myinstagramadventure In realtà sono un Hobbit.

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