Tuesday, October 10, 2017


[this was written on October 6th]

Unkown, Bologna, Italy

So. I’m here, listening to Metallica and (trying) to get something written down and I am almost laughing at how much I’ve screwed up in the last couple of weeks. Bear with me till the end. There is a lesson to learn from all of this, kids. Ahem.
I have failed not one, but two university interviews which may have led me to getting accepted to *another* art school, not the one that I initially had applied to. Turns out I’m not fancy enough to have even the slightest chance of PAYING to get their precious art lessons. Never mind.

This morning has been the apotheosis of crap though. After spending one entire week on the phone trying to make the before-mentioned art school tell me when I could get my portfolio back, they finally answered yesterday to a 2-weeks-old email. So this morning I decided to get some work done: I brought to print some of my works before going to the art school, which is in another city. Turns out the quality of the prints is so crappy I can’t even use them to light a fire or throw a barbecue party cause that would be offensive to the said fire or barbecue. Which equals to 20 € thrown into the toilet. 

Then I head over to the train station to go get back my portfolio and the train is freacking late because somebody has hit their car on the train bars.

school toilet
Then I got there one hour late and I messed up the names of the streets, oh, without mentioning my really crappy phone’s concept of “local position” on google maps which apparently was NOT where I was.
Then I finally got to the school and the people working there were really rude, they gave me some vague information of where to find the damn professor who had my portfolio. So I started rambling around the school like an idiot, coursing in every language known to mankind.
At this point my exasperation had reached such a high point that if I had that laser-rays from my eyes I would have probably burned the whole school down. I got to another custodian begging for comprehension and all I got was “Today the professor is having exams. Can’t you get back tomorrow?”.

Alright folks. I usually am a nice person, I don’t rush judgments or thoughts while talking to other people but after all the “we are too cool for you” bullshit I had to deal with for the previous week I just said: “Listen. I don’t live here. I have bought a damn two-way ticket for TODAY and I can’t come tomorrow cause I am LEAVING to go to another school in another city next week. Nobody has answered at the phone since last week and nobody has replied to my email. The professor yesterday FINALLY answered me and told me to come as soon as I could. THIS is as soon as I could and the last time I can. I want my portfolio today .”
My crazy looking eyes and my, let’s say, compelled voice, must have done a great job too cause the woman was quite scared at that point. She knew I wasn’t from that school so eventually I couldn’t get punished or get a payback from professors if I behaved bad. She just sat there and said to wait. I love when they have nothing on you to make you do what they want. High school had felt like a constant black mailing situation and now, in another school, I was getting my revenge.

Then this kind soul who had just finished an exam whose name is not known, kindly decided to bring me to the professor. Thank you dude, the help of a fellow art student won’t be forgotten. You’ll stay in the  poor punk-loser kids’ heaven forever.
paint strokes on white canvas. Rage raptus by me (no it's not the title of the painting, it's what happened)

Long story short I got my portfolio back but not without the great pleasure of having to listen to some misogynistic comments on wives and daughters by the professor. I mean… that’s not cool from no one, but from a professor…dude….
I then ran back to the train station and took the first train to get back home and EAT. The train apparently was also the fastest to get home, just 59 minutes. That’s when I freaked out. In a day when nothing goes right something that ACTUALLY goes right just looks potentially disastrous.  So I thought that maybe my train would have exploded due to spontaneous combustion or something as dumb as that just to top off the day.
It didn’t. Otherwise this whole post would be just creepy. Imagine: a soul writing from the afterlife on her blog… whoooo.
Supernatural has poisoned my mind. I regret nothing!

This all post just to say: don’t let bad things tear you down. I know some days are just crappy and you’d like to sit in bed and swear at everything that moves but in those situations I get to think about how my life would be all controlled by some bad-happenings.
Call it karma, call it fate, call it whatever you want, you can change (almost) everything.

Just move that ass from the sofa and wear your pants.

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