Last night wandering around Foro Italico, the place I spent lots of my childhood playing and hanging out with friends, I felt like I was in an empty film set, all the actors had left. All that remained were traces of a former life. An empty feeling, not a sad one, just memories of that time. I looked over into the running track and saw groups of young Italian kids hanging out, I kind of expected to see myself. I couldn’t quite work out how I was feelings, it was like some kind of jealously for those kids,  jealous of their life, that care free lifestyle I once had. Living in a beautiful warm country, happy, content, with their mum around, I wanted that again, I wanted to go back to that time and never leave. Life wouldn’t get much better than this time, as a kid you don’t realise that, you’ll angry and frustrated at times, want to be older and have more freedom etc etc, but really it’s the other way. I’d be quite happy going back into that life as an 10 year old in Rome and never leave. Life as an adult is pretty disappointing and hard, being a child was easy. We spend our lives as children wishing we were older, and as an adult wishing we were younger. The ‘human condition’ (I hate that expression!) is fucked, it’s like we are born to make ourselves miserable, always wanted something else, never content, it’s shite but it’s hard to get out of that pattern, I’m trying, god knows I am…

Foro-4 Foro-7

I remember as a child picking up a just fallen pinecone from this tree to take home, when dozens of Earwigs came racing out, I screamed and drop it and ran away, my mum thought it was hilarious. Obviously I didn’t at the time, but was a lovely memory to experience when I saw this tree still there.


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