..è la fine. E in questo momento, posso scrivere tutto. Sono felice, affranto. Piango. Rido. Sorrido. E scriverò tutto, incominciando subito.
Le mie ultime 30 ore a Paris
L’ultimo risveglio mi coglie nostalgico, consapevole degli ultimi battiti, dopo 1sera a chiacchierare con il massaio Marco e 1paio di Heineken, e un discorso con Sarah che mi ha portato a coricarmi con il sorriso alle 3.30 dla notte prima. Marta sta preparando i bagagli, la imito timidamente, aspettandola: colazione da Starbucks, scone, thé à la menthe e cappuccio, mentre tiriamo 1bilancio. Ci siamo conosciuti poco, è vero, e gli ultimi tempi per me sono stati occupati da tanti altri thoughts, problems, locks of raven hair. I'm sorry, and 
same time they are glad to have shared 1tetto the one who does not sit on the couch because my bed, and has managed to make her room 1autentico battlefield. Praise the teacher, and soon, the ambassador Showcase. Rest alone 1lista of things to do, the decision not to move from L'Occitane to say hello. After all, two days before the office if there are none that I'm really sorry. There was one, it would pass, I swear. Message Tania. Too late for a Bon Cru
extra time, after last Friday's close and admirable with her and Greg. But step. Suitcase, suitcase, another suitcase. Esco. 1abbraccio 2membri a team to really Occitane, with all the good that this formula has been able to embody in these 32 years. Last around Place des Pyramides, Louvre, Les Halles, Tiquetonne, Montorgueil, recent gifts. Arrival at REX: hello house keys. Hard to stay cold. Green key contacts, Marco Fontana, call. The discovery of a rich Jewish husband co-owner dl'artista dl 
our studio, and his spare set of keys, saves me the beginning of the evening. Appointment maintained at Pont Neuf 8.20, and 8.30 am at the fountain St.Michel. Obviously, 8.30 and 8.40. My companions are nl'ultima evening Mark Frank, Claudia, and Armen Sarah. When we expect things often do not arrive as you wish. But the last and the last pints Crêperie des Pecheurs de Mazet blanche to have a symbolic value. They have quietly closed traditions 1fase dla my life that will never come back. Gradually, the hugs come and 
people go away, after you work tomorrow. Frank, Claudia, Armen. I leave Mark's entry to the entry of the Pont Neuf, a few seconds after a last look at the Tour, and Vedettes. The euphoria that comes from being mindless still there, from knowing every corner, every inch of that bridge that has seen 
too many thoughts, feelings, ed emozioni nel corso di queste 5 stagioni, si unisce alla brezza leggera che sale dalla Senna, mentre salto con la mia colonna e la mia croce e delizia. Tempo per il gran finale. Mi sembra quasi paradossale che Marco se ne vada. L’abbraccio è forte, il miglior wingman dal 1916 mi saluta, ed è stato 
meglio così. Non so come avrei fatto se no. Inizia una camminata tra gli ultimi simboli di una città che dorme. Tra risate ed abbracci 1rassegna di luoghi mi porge un ultimo silenziosamente notturno saluto. I teatri di Châtelet, i kebab di Les Halles, gli alberi di Sébastopole, il drapeau tricolore del Centre
Pompidou. Le Pick-Clops di rue des Archives, il Lizard Lounge, la giostra St.Paul, les gauffres Bastille. Roquette and the darkness of his bar. Two parallel lines that date back to the Marais, Rue Amelot and cross Filles du Calvaire. The imposing statue of dla République, edged back to: 
the Canal St. Martin, the Favelas Chic, Goncourt, Belleville, and even the Pyrenees. The soft couch of sugar cane welcomes us to the time of some videos, Scary Movie 3, a few sips of Coke Zero and the minutes needed to warm little hands and feet cold. No more. The rest is Jagermaister. Clearly, they are 
my business. I dedicate just a few words, prompted by dsiderio not to forget the natural, care, kindness, attention. No, we did not. For us it was more. 3 hours of sleep, 1saluto difficult, with a smile, struck by the paradox that leads us to change expression in a matter of seconds, to beat. .. la fin m'a voulu offer the plus douce nuit et Cruella. en marchant, je ne sais pas ou baisser you sourire mon regard. est ce que je sais que si voudras you, je pars pour Reven tôt, et sourire encore. 1bacio to quivering, strong and handsome soft reflections raven. I miss them already.
Hard Head Bonne Nouvelle, run to create yet another complex plane, get off with 4 travel bags over 100 pounds 5-story spiral staircase, in time to catch the g7 taxi booked a little earlier, towards Gare de Lyon. The sun peeps, I leave a paris quai illuminated by looking at the moving, self-centered.
cry. I laugh. I smile. And come back soon, despite my mess, with the desire to rediscover golden sparks of life, handsome raven-reflections, and the sky crystal clear that the stage lights that do not want to leave. Because even if conscious of the ephemeral character of so many things in life, in Paris I have deep memories, good friends and someone who gives me a smile. The dream has come true.
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