"L'è mea vèra che nel silenzio
dorma dumà la malincunìa,
l'è mea vèra che un tuscanèll
l'è mea bòn de fa una puesìa.
In questa stanza senza urelògg
bàla la fata e bàla la stria
in questu siit senza la lüüs
che diis tücoos l'è duma' l'umbrìa...."
And now, my thoughts are dancing with the rhythim of strange melodies, the doubts that are accumulated one by one in my head. There are 81 days to it,81 days to fight against my future exams, to leave everything in order in Vigo. And also my Summer. A strange Summer, maybe full of adventures that I could never imagine, I'm going to do something I didn't think I could, with an unknown result. The masks of theorical"friends" are starting to fall, and it let see how many are true skins of sincerity. Ad adventure worthy of any of my ex Italian teachers. I'm a bit afraid, but with fear we can't do anything...
I feel myself small.
