Hello world!

I’m not sure about this blog. Maybe it’s a way to get some rest from the horrors of the nowadays life I have reported for years as a journalist. Maybe now my state of mind is not a New York state of mind like Billy Joel would sing (one of my favorites songs) but it makes me think in those years when with some luck, most of us were innocent and stared at the wonders of the world with fresh and huge clean eyes, maybe don’t understanding a thing, but feeling protected in a beautiful world plenty of surprises, magic and colors. Those days when we felt true love and knew where to go when we were scared.
I was a privileged one with love. A child in a loving family of emigrants, with difficulties and no much money to live. But we, children, didn’t know about that, we had our home, our refuge, where everything was all right.
I wrote a page telling in a few sentences my story. So if you are not interested don’t bother to keep checking. My posts would be about life and sometimes short stories (some funny, some a little nostalgic) about the life of a child who didn’t understand what was going around her and lived between two worlds: the one of his loving family and the other of the streets that she perceived as a very strange and crazy environment.

What do you think?

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