Heading back

Not always, not even frequently, but sometimes, in the middle of noise and all the foolish screaming and shouting, there is still a shy boy that eats in silence the food prepared by his mother.
There is still someone that is reminded that the language of his parents sounds more like the sighing whispers of the sea.

So

This blog is to turn into a collection of moments; brief, unrelated and boringly autobiographical moments.
To make it both accessible and ormai truthful, they will be handed out in the most spoken language in the world: broken English.