(«At last, he rewrote the intro!»)

You might be here by chance, but you probably know me and I gave you the link in some cunning way («Please visit my website, please!»).
I’ll make this short: sometimes I write stuff and put it here, the older that is, the more ashamed I am someone might actually read it. I don’t remove anything because one cannot simply delete things, it isn’t nice.
If you want to know who I am (in form of myth and hagiography) there’s a page for that too, just like there’s a page to write me.

What are you still doing here? Go!

Do not fall in love with a writer.
Published,aspiring or unknown, it does not matter.
Do not fall in love with a writer.
The writer lives on nice words, stories to tell.
My soul, do not love a writer; what use can he make of a person, if not a character?
One who devotes half-written sentences to sensual pleasure, do not love ever, lest all ends in poetry.
And if you do not know what a writer is, know this: do not fall in love with one always knowing what to say, one for wisdom’s various arts renown’d, a golden tongue.

And if it is too late, if the game is over, do not trust a writer.
He will weave webs of words, trap you in a droplet of dew. If he is good he will write your role.
Do not trust a writer; or do you not know they are all bohemians, alcoholics, drug addicts, insane?
(one who does not tear reality’s veil is not a true writer)

And if you’ll love a write, pray you are an artist, or a little crazy, dare be his muse.
Close, out of reach.
Or you will be ordinary, boring, replaceable; or worse, the writer will stop writing.

Do not fall in love with a writer, make the writer fall in love with you.



My school wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t perfect at all… More »

I’ve lived with you only two weeks, and I must say we didn’t exactly see eye to eye.
Heck, that is a big understatement; I was the intruder, the nuisance, the one violating your house.
You disliked me so badly that even when I tried to befriend you by feeding you, you waited until I wasn’t looking to eat. More »

Maybe it’s an overstatement, maybe I’ve lived in Albion for too long, maybe something else, but I think this story I’m writing down today synthesises Italy (some of it) pretty well.  More »

I know, I know, I’ve recently finished my exams and now I’m supposed to write a witty or extremely boring post for the “living the British dream” category. More »

I’ve been keeping myself quite busy since the last post (February? O dear!), for instance I am not only a committee member of 2 societies, but I’ve also started my own!

So today we shall learn how to start a new society at the University of Essex.

WARNING: steps may vary depending on the University and country. The author will not take any responsibility for harm, serious injury, death or ridicule resulting from using this instructions in a University with different rules.  More »

«Subjugation of State to Church»

Maybe it’s the British weather, or spending so much time with non-Catholics, but I personally think the independence of State and Church (Article 7 of the Italian Constitution) to be somehow reciprocal: the Republic does not pass laws on mitre height and the Church does not declare anathema on our public transportation system. More »

As I have written in the past, everybody here is always annoying you about having a good CV, which means you’re supposed to work when you’re not in the lab or something…

To work in the UK you need something called National Insurance Number (its friends call it NIN), that is Her Majesty equivalent of our Italian codice fiscale.
This is my personal experience as an Italian student who asked for one just in case he’ll one day find that special someone who pays you in exchange for something. More »