… and I’m there, doing… not much.

Tomorrow, a person I know is going to discuss her bachelor’s thesis. And here I am, waiting for a new project to start, finishing some tasks very fast and wasting time for most of the eight hours reading Hacker News and listening to chiptune on Bandcamp.

People are getting their own house, but I’m still with my parents, working on stupid things to keep myself updated on some web technologies and waiting for them to go to sleep to write stupid things on my weblog or some very personal notes.

Did you know that, when I was fifteen, I had no posters in my room? I started having them now, at twentyfour, because my parents went full “argh, where can we put all these fuarrking posters you got with the kickstarters?”. sigh.

Sometimes, on the bus to work, I ask myself if I should go see a psychologist, but immediately think that either he recognizes me as a giant useless f***t with some money I really want to separate myself from, or tells me to get the fuck out of his office because I’m a normal person and to grow the fuck out as normal people do.

Or maybe I should really grow up, find someone to speak to IRL and… or speak to a certain someone, even to say “hi what’s up wanna meet this saturday or let’s see if i can find you in the main street of your town”. or put a content warning on top of the post, post it and go to sleep, as “la notte porta con(s)iglio” [“the night brings wisdom” - “a rabbit” if you remove the (s)-].