At the very end, right before leaving Bleicherstrasse maybe forever, once I have the last 5 years of my life in boxes and baggages, after these days letting the past passing through my hands, well... of course...
I can decide to blame me or to blame lots of people who were "beside" me during this time.
I can make a list of the reasons why I should blame me.
I can make a list of names (way much more exciting and tempting) of people I should blame, with a polite, accurate, legal description of their faults.
I can make a list of all the actions, pure actions, I made for the others, for love, for free.
I can make a list of all the time I didn't allowed people to be generous with me, cause I was afraid.
I can make one of my "famous" lists that starts with the number 1 and makes the people worried of being involved, appointed, delivered.
I certainly have enough will, creativity and fussiness.
But now that I see my flat empty and I perceive my body naked in the middle of it, the only thing I feel is a deep gratitude to my life for guiding me so far and suddenly every single event, every single person, every bad word, every fail, every sour tear, becomes just an instrument, a tool of this process that stays pretty much mysterious.
The becoming lets me faceless, but as soon as I make a step, in that exact moment, the flow of life, fraught with potentials, takes his proper, unique, essential name : Andrea Maria Mirabile.
Until the last step, always thanking.
Fuck off people! With all my heart.