Roseary Beads Around Ankle

THOUGHTS AFTER A YEAR AWAY FROM HOME

1
E 'spent almost a month since my return home. A month spent almost entirely on the couch because of a nasty sprained left foot. Too time to think and be bored.
How am I? I feel like I could not manage my time. It seems to me to waste my time, and this feeling is not felt by the 365 days now, even when I had a job or I was lying in Cable Beach hours until sunset, so naturally, without needing to "do something" . And that pisses me off. And now we have fallen ... I do not know how it could happen, maybe it's just because of this distortion that is blocking me at home, or maybe it's the fault of the system in which we are embedded, which forces us to run, have a job, find a person to "settle down" . But not only that.
I feel changed. Sometimes I do not understand the reasoning of people who are talking and I do not understand how once seemed normal. We are no longer on the same frequency and although the good I want them very much, my only wish is to escape and find again the dimension in which I lived for a year. No one understands what has been my journey and some even look at me wrong when I say that I picked onions in Australia. Or draw the practical conclusion of all saying "well, at least you have learned English well now." But I think more than a simple language which enriched me. I think I have learned more about what it means to "give thanks to life" picking onions for 2 days in Queensland that a past life in Italy to study and work. But I can not make myself understood. And this is a bit 'I'm sorry. And everyone is so concerned to wonder "now what? What will you do? Plans for the future?" instead of wondering how you are or what you have been to Australia. Anyway ... Soon
think again, probably with my sister, and tell you that it thrilled me a lot. New places to discover, to experience new emotions and a new backpack to fill with culture. I can not wait!
I close the post with a quote from St. Augustine, who holds a bit 'all I've written so far:

The world is a book,

and those who do not travel read only a page.