Radio Nostalgia EP 04

Today on Radio Nostalgia: "Gente Distratta" by Pino Daniele.

My latest episode, or at least the last one in this city. You’ve been tough; I’m leaving with a bitter smile but a full heart.

Unfortunately, my soul works in a strange way: I let everything pass through me, even if it hurts. But by doing so, I can give the most real part of myself to the thing in question - with all its various scars.

Just like in all the things I do, I've been quite inconsistent - that's because the external conditions were what they were. But yet, despite this, my room gradually became home.

Among the fairy lights and a handmade catch-all tray, in the evenings, I would come back and sing in front of the bathroom’s mirror as if I were twelve - except for the fact that I paid the rent and had to fill the washing machine myself.

I bought what resembled me the most: a wicker laundry basket and a bird's nest made of Lego bricks - as a reminder, just in case I ever wanted to fly now that I still have my fledgling wings and no fears.

Provided my beautiful little Eleonora with a space to heal: a new room where she could stifle her cries, play Nintendo Switch, and feel solitude.

I merged my dreams and made them endless, made room for feelings, welcomed emptiness. I went through undefined spaces, finding meaning and coherence with every step I took. I embraced many things I had rejected until now - Dad still asks me to find a real job even though he only sees me twice a year, yet at the end of these six months, I decided I couldn't care less. Still have my head on my shoulders and my feet halfway in the air. I know very well the direction I'm heading in, and I'm not afraid.

All clothes by Jacquemus SS15. Photography by Johnny Dufort, styling by Celestine Cooney.

I don't like interfacing with people outside (always finding it hard), especially when it comes to waving them goodbye, but it's necessary to thank everyone who lent me their eyes and ears - you gave me so much. Me and this city exchanged something - me and the people who inhabit it too. Treated myself poorly these months: I ate like shit and spent weekends doing nothing - just cleaning my room, but I realized it's okay because I needed it; now begins another chapter where I want to love myself a little more. It was necessary: had to forget about taking care to learn again self-love.

Sounds strange but they taught me this - they gave me back my confidence, motivated me to stay true to myself, not to be afraid to look at the world with a child's eyes.

Motivated me to take care again of myself, even indirectly.

Since it started getting cold, my boss brought me to the office in the mornings (even though sometimes she didn't have to go), and occasionally I would stop by the bakery to get breakfast for both of us. It was the only meal I was having but it filled both my heart and stomach. Warm like coffee and croissants.

My dance teacher told me not to stop if I couldn't do a pirouette because I had to push myself beyond my limits. My barre partner forced me out of that fucking bed for hot chocolate in the afternoon to give me back some lightness. You treated me with so much patience.

The city is slow on Sunday mornings: Mrs. De Caroli was making tortelli, the house was silent, the sun peeked through the curtains. In the playground downstairs, kids were yelling at their parents not to go home, one more round on the slide!! - I painted myself as a child, too. Watched the houses slowly come to life: pasta on the stove, warm bread. Smelled dry leaves and someone’s grandma’s cigarettes from the swing, this is the sweetest memory I carry in my pocket.

The rooms I’ve lived in, the rooms where I will live.

Some nights I was so scared - thought of you often, was sad when you weren't there.

Sheets were dry, and I really didn't feel like sleeping without a warm hand.

In these months, I gave myself a second childhood - a softer one. Innocently experienced pain, analytically broke it down. Decided that I am ready, that we are ready - me and the smallest version of myself. Everything I've experienced inevitably became part of me, and the more others give me, the more I give them because I feel my roots continuously growing. I collected everything they gave me, I felt it in my bones.

And even though I'm coming back home, I will never thank this city enough because I’m breathing with a lighter head; who knows what my dreams will taste like tonight.