Listening to the italian eminem, I think to my situation. There is not much to talk about, since that day: when I thought that working were my only option for these years.
I hear to his vocal violence and I think to my despair while in public. The same despair that disappears when I’m called to speak about business strategies, stats analysis and web production. The nerd family makes a strenght out of a common social inability, the same happens for this italian eminem in my stereo. He has the need to scream out thoughts kept inside for too long, he is helped by his friends musicians that put rythm and armony between his words. He is speaking about his familiar reality, that seems so strange to a listener that has his own reality. The space in my room becomes another place for a moment, it’s just a lucid dream because my job is still there, in a corner of my room patiently waiting. Sometimes music seems just a personalization of unexpressed global feelings.
