In this post I’d like to talk about something that is mine. Just to not be boring in other words. Two things mainly: the power of dreams and the value of promises.
Promises and dreams are cynically baloney. They are projected into the future and the future, it’s known, changes more quickly than one can imagine. But in my case there are some small but clear exceptions.
To be more clear, I have to take another paper from that folder that holds the essays from my middle and high school. If in the previous post I was already 15 years old now I’ll transcribe an essay written when I was still 12, 8 years ago. I was attending the last year of middle school, and like this year, I was intended to big changes in my life. Let’s see what I was writing (no corrections will be made in the transcription ).

Essay guideline

Project yourself  in the future and imagine you are now an adult. It’s the night of 20th, Dec 2025 and you, after a busy day, take a break to reflect writing your journal, as you do ever single night since you were 12.

Essay development

20/12/2025

Dear Diary,
I am sorry if it’s a long time since I wrote to you, but -you know- in the christmas period there is a lot of work to do and like always the most difficult tasks are assigned to me. Today I saw about 20 people who had broken their computer and were trying to convince me that it broke by itself. Then, on my way back, I had to go to Ottawa for a meeting with the french president of the local IT and after he offered me lunch in a chinese restaurant. I ordered only a glass of water because I didn’t like the food choices on the menu. I came back to Sidney and my boss told me to go home. On my way home I hear a faint whistle and then a bang. In five minutes I changed the flat tire; so I was obligated to go to the body shop mechanic. Finally I am home. My wife is in the kitchen cooking and my daughter hasn’t come back from school yet. After the shower my wife tells me that that night we will have guests and that they will arrive at 19:00. I look at my watch and I noticed that it’s 17:00. My wife hasn’t started cooking yet. So I have to help her cooking, peeling potatoes, beating eggs and other boring chores. Came While I put the pasta in the oven my daughter gets home and I kindly tell him her to tidy up her room that is usually messy. Finally the guests arrive and after dinner I tell them about my day. I yelled at my daughter 3 times because she didn’t want to eat that I actually didn’t like either. I started talking that wit with the coming of Christmas, kids should behave better but instead they turn even more into brats and instead [unintelligible, probably “have lots of demands to”]  their parents. All of this makes me think when I was little. Do you remember when I was moving to Canada and the suitcase was too heavy? then I decided to leave behind my favorite soccer ball. Or when I received a bicycle too big for me. Then when I had to go to Milan I had to take the ferry to cross the Messina strait and now there is a long bridge instead. Well!
Thinking back, I have had everything in my life since I was a child until now and I think that like I promised I will go back to Modica (this time without taking the ferry) to see again after many years my city and first of all my mother. I think this will be the last page of my diary because I don’t have anymore time and I have achieved everything and I don’t have any wish and without wishes there is no need of a diary.

See you soon
Gioele

The original post, written in May 2011 (here: http://www.minciati.eu/2011/05/senza-desideri-non-ce-bisogno-di-un-diario/), keeps going with some more memories of when I was 12, the world cup in ’98, my dreams of being a videogame programmer and my dreams of moving to Canada. I am tired tonight so I won’t translate the last part unless asked by the few people who will read this and can’t read it in italian.
The fact that here I am, achieving step by step anything I have ever wanted before they build that bridge I was talking about…well that I think is astonishing. I have 11 years left to  find a wife, have a family, have a daughter. Then I’ll stop having a blog. Then I’ll be 35. Then I’ll be happy. Maybe.

Chistu è il primo post unni parru mali ro Canadà. Issu è o primeiro post onde eu vou contar mal do Canadà. This is the first post where I will speak negatively about Canada.

Questa è la migliore nazione al mondo (sebbene non la migliore nazionale), così io penso almeno. Nazione di equilibri, nazione calma e apologetica. Ferma e amichevole. Amichevole. Apparentemente amichevole. Ed è qui il problema. Nel tentativo di inglobare così tante diverse culture, nel tentativo di non dar dispiacere a nessuno si sono dimenticati a essere naturali. A vivere le relazioni sociali in quella maniera spontanea che ti permetta di fare degli amici in qualsiasi fase della vita uno si possa trovare.
In Canada l’amicizia funziona in circles,  in cerchie. E ogni cerchia è legata ad una attività. E tale cerchie di amicizie non si mescolano, ‘nsiamai! Ed è così che ho degli amici di softball, alcuni di squash, altri della social sport league del venerdì, quelli del lavoro e quelli che vengono a portoghese. Tutta brava gente, ma nessuno è amico mio. Fin quando non posso dire le mie metafore senza paura di essere giudicato nessuno è amico mio.
La gente è tanto cordiale, estremamente cordiale. Così cordiale che si sono scordati come si fa a essere amici. E allora si fiondano in clubs and meetups per riempire quel buco. Una volta fatta scorta di amicizia per quel paio d’orette then tutti a casa e cù s’à vistu s’à vistu. La cosa è talmente vera che c’hanno pure dedicato una pagina su wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seattle_Freeze).

Fortuna che io sono un motherfucker martufo di natura e che ho questa innata predisposizione a starmene da solo, sennò pazzo sarei.