once again about dummies and african feelings, while sounds and memories....

without any logical order, let me fragmented, chaotic and still laughing, tell you something about my european sound delta.

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"is he a mafioso?" I asked Nicolas when he texted me that an italian looking guy will come and pick me up from the train station. well.... Olivier wasn’t really a person to deal with the mafia, but more a smiling and nice sailor man. I wouldn’t picture him making dirty business in his free time, but.....

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Brussels... I understand nothing from it..... in the first day, confused and not exactly knowing what should I do, I’m just walking the way streets show to me... everybody seems to work here and they all have a plan..... me? me?!?! I try to improve my french abilities, asking people on the streets where is the Rhine..... it looks like, hm.... the Rhine is not in Brussels. this might be the conclusion of my first day in Brussels.

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because of a good internet site called Hospitality Club, I got to know a boy who’s a linguist: one of the 50 persons in the whole world to deal with the african languages..... he: "what’s your artistical aim, Maria?" me: " I don’t know.... I’m just searching for the truth." break me: "what are you searching for when you study african languages?" he:"I tried to see if they converge or diverge. the conclusion was that some of them converge and some diverge...." me: hahahahaaaaaaa he: "well, after, I spent 3 months trying to give this conclusion a more commercial face. why do the world, actually, need the truth and the african languages? imagine us going to the guys from the financial department and ask them for some money.... how could we prove the use of the truth and the use of knowing if the african languages converge or diverge? they can be really useless."

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.....some hours after this dialogue, I receive a phone call from an african boy I met in Goa, India, 7 months ago, asking me if I still want to go to the party.....

JPEG - 137.4 kb the middle of the night, in a club that showed me another face of Brussels, an african woman, tall, black, beautiful, dances. she’s dancing on the rhythms of 2 dj’s and she’s really dancing, happily, laughing with her entire body, shaking her ass, her legs, her arms and our souls of poor mortals. I stop from my own move. I cannot take my eyes from her. she’s there, giving us a little bit of an amazing mixture of worlds: african continent and house music universe. her dress is taking the shape of her body and I dream of feelings I’ll probably never..... I went out of the club and, as I was walking on the street, a car stops. I get a free ride to the boat and an invitation of drinking wine and make sex. I choose to drink my own stars, while sleeping outside.... Brussels still sounds like sleeping.

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