I’m staying in Bologna for a few days, in the house where I grew up.
I do my best to avoid nostalgia, but my parents have unintentionally chosen for my bed the same flowery IKEA pattern that adorned a bed I used to know so well, at this same time of the year, just one year ago. This year I long to go back to another bed, just like last year I was longing to go back to hers. People change but the same situations return, and apparently I keep making the same mistakes, year after year…
Life seems to proceed in loops sometime and for a moment, before falling asleep, I find it difficult to distinguish between the present and the past.