Disegno di Agnese Argondizza

Drawing by Agnese Argondizza

Of some people one says:«I’m glad he’s not my enemy», not in my case: too lazy to start a feud, I give way to my sadism on friends.

They regret having met me in the hallways, and you want to know me! Well, not know me know me I hope…

Venice bore me

I was born in Venice in 1993, I’d love to describe the whole scene, but I can’t. Maybe I wasn’t there, or I was out buying myself some fritoe.

I grew up in Mestre doing what every well-behaved child in Venice does: chasing pigeons.

One day in 2005, and here history and myth mix up, a mysterious creature half Demiurge half Credit Card bought me Simosito: the beginning of the end.

Now this grows even more confusing: Simosito hides, undergoes every kind of facial surgery to flee its pursuers (a group of Russians commenting compulsively «If time were money, I’ll be rich»), and me moving to Rome was of no use.

Stat Roma pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus

Rome is nothing but a name, and if it were called Odoacer it would still smell.

The important thing of Rome, after all, is that it introduced me to those to whom I dedicate two-thirds of my works, like those friends that introduce you to the love of your life, the one you later rename “Cutthroat Bitch” on your contacts list.

But something gets lost moving: part of me stays up North, whilst I take my lovely accent with me.

Journalist? Where?

In 2008 I approach, am approached, or both, by a mysterious and intriguing liceo student, Francesca, with whom I start working to create a school newspaper: Il Tasso Parlante.

That’s how I end up being one of the 5 (five!) editors-in-chief of that wild and crazy adventure that my first newspaper was, writing articles that now are remembrances

Dreams too, though, die at dawn (and being a poet helps not), and so I find myself writing for our sworn enemy (two newspapers in one school, yes): Il Tassometro, whose brilliant factotum I should have been, had it not failed miserably after a while.

Finally, and it’s 2011, I decide to offer my expertise to Laura, who proved to be the best editor-in-chief in our school history (I think so), and got Tassocrazia (and me, as her deputy) on national newspapers (real ones).

One article led to another, and eventually we somehow manage to organise an international conference on homophobia with Timothy Kurek, one of those “I have no idea how I did but I actually managed to” things.

After liceo, my journalist career is on a hiatus, not before having published on a real printed newspaper, Riforma.

University is pronounced “Essex”

After a nice 86% in my high school finals (it was my science examiner’s fault), I move to the not-so-perfidious Albion (colloquially called United Kingdom), to study Genetics at the University of Essex.

It’s the beginning of a new life (2013): test tubes, new church, finally volunteering as a first aider, taking an interest in Italian politics (from abroad, weird, I know), taking an interest in a thousand more student societies (even starting my own), all whist passing year one with flying colours, a quite funny expression if translated literally into Italian.

The end?

Now a grand finale would be nice, one of those not making readers shout:«Why did I waste my time like this?».

I have none. I could put a photo of a nice little kitt… I don’t have that either.

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