💀 ENG: This content can't be translated into Italian because the large amount of assumptions and common-sense would be lost in translation. Please notice that this content includes lots of implicit, which the direct links may help (hopefully) to disveil. Enjoy!
👾 IT: Questo contenuto non puo' essere tradotto in Italiano a causa dell'incredibile quantita' di stereotipi e sensi-comuni che andrebbero persi in traduzione
Today it's the anniversary of me and England 💓💋💣
Well, I can't really say it is the most exciting, close-knit or enthusiastic love story of my life: it is surely miles away from the big crushes I had for Poland and Jordan.
Ops, sorry, being too honest already?
At this point, I should have learned "how to speak" - in the UK, to English people, talking about England itself! Damn me....
I will try again: "my relationship with England is surely alternative, and it is brilliantly exemplified by the constant tension between "it is not too bad" and "it is not bad at all". Polite notice: it is raining, again".
But well, it is stable, indeed. And it reminds me of the importance of appreciating small things - very small things: tea, porridge, and scrambled eggs.
Especially, from today it is an established relationship - currently one of the most craved status in all United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland!
Not only I am with them (the Kingdom, the Great Britain, the Northern Ireland and even the Overseas territories) since more than a year, but I can tackle so many of the criteria listed in this stunning piece of sociological enquiry:
The ones I am more proud of are:
1. It is an exclusive relation, as Covid didn't allow anyone to fly - and thus to be volatile 😂
2. I say love to them at least once a month, when I accommodate my mind to "it is what it is".
3. I have met so many of its friends - mainly Britons which are not Britophiles at all - aka: they didn't vote for Brexit.
Well, I am making a bit too much irony in here. I can already see my English friends smiling a bit but actually going "very upset" inside.
Some of them will probably text me to say that they are sorry that I feel sorry for feeling sorry about their politeness...
The ones who know me, though, can easily realise my strategy: I am just pretending to dislike something(one) that I actually enjoy very much to see if it sticks with my perfidy long enough to be worthed the effort.
I can't say I love England, and you know why? I just didn't see any of it.
But Liverpool, well, is sticking with me. And I really love it - probably I always did, also when, after a week I was here, I got robbed of my phone!
And this love, unconditional and (honestly) a bit crazy, can only be explained by the unique soul of this city.
Liverpool, I met you in a cold rainy day of early November. I was full of enthusiasm and you were full of rain and damp. But anyway, I gazed at the sky, and started enjoying the cool feeling of drops tickling my face. Along this crazy year, you gifted me with a huge amount of rainy days, muddy leaves, soggy countryside. With a big enough amount of pints - with or without Covid, a large amount of partying, and a long list of "hair of the dog". You are so messy, so dirty, so disorganized. But you have the prom along the Mersey, and the sunset on the docks, and the dunes of Formby (and the erotic dream of Klopp) and the mud of Thurstastone. Your music is all a "lovely" in the streets, your people are crazily loud incomprehensible scousers, all very funny.
You are just magic in your own, and I don't even know why I am trying to explain it by words.
At the end, you are more than a city, more than a place: you are a feeling.
A feeling a bit crazy, which feel good indeed, and which still has a long way to go!
"So, if you're ever feeling down
Grab your purse and take a taxi
To the darkest side of town
That's where we'll be
And we will wait for you
{...} celebrate the irony
Everything is going wrong
But we're so happy!"
