“Two bedroom, two bathrooms, one ensuite. Five acres of land with your very own small pine forest and stunning views of the mountains. Ideal for people see…
“Two bedroom, two bathrooms, one ensuite. Five acres of land with your very own small pine forest and stunning views of the mountains. Ideal for people seeking refuge in solitude and/or willing to setup a short term rental” that was the headline of the ad. I had been reading and rereading so much that I had memorized it.
That was my opportunity, I had to start somewhere. All my friends and even people ten or fifteen years younger than me owned multiple units and were in the flipping game since 2020. I have been sceptical, I thought prices were too high, a bubble. But now I realised that I was left behind, the cash I had in my bank account was losing purchasing power like if it was set on fire, the financial markets looked increasingly like a casino, real-estate was the way, I was going to buy low, fix it, upgrade it with a jacuzzi or stuff like that and ultimately set up a gorgeous short term rental.
At that point I was gonna be a TikTok star like all the chads I was following and make some good cheese, metaphorically speaking.
I maxed out my credit card, set up a company and recycled money a few times to make it look like I had cash flow, the rest was easy, at the bank they briefly looked at he papers, ran a standard check and it was all green. Boom, I had my cash! The interest on the loan was astronomical but it didn’t matter, I was going to print in there! There was literally no competition and the place was… pictoresque! Yes, that’s the word I need to use for SEO.
Five months in and I am still hustling, I had a couple of customers, friends of friends that I had hosted for free and to have reviews. Five stars! They had stained the sofa with wine and dropped something heavy on the floor, breaking some tiles but apart from that it was a success, now my establishment, “The loner ridge”, that’s how I called it, was going to have the credibility necessary to start generating some serious cash.
Another six months went by and I had only two guests, three and three and a half stars, respectively:
“The hot water was cold, low pressure. Avoid”
“There’s nothing around, internet was slow”
The bank called again, they are not going to wait any longer for the payments.
I joined a mentorship group, dropped five grand for it, I did everything to the letter but nothing worked.
“It’s the economy” was the common theme.
How was it possible? The stock market was making new all time highs every day, unemployment was low and all, minimum wages was increasing, where’s everyone?
I should have listened to ButtWiffHat523 and YOLO shitcoins, he had bought two lambos months ago, right now he must own a few mansions as well.
Of course they were late, of all days they had to choose today, of course. I am both excited and terrified to introduce him to them. Dad is gonna grill him…
Of course they were late, of all days they had to choose today, of course. I am both excited and terrified to introduce him to them. Dad is gonna grill him, for sure, I guess it’s healthy though, it’s also going to be telling how he dodges dad’s blows… I trust him, he’s gonna do OK, I wouldn’t have set all this thing up if I didn’t believe in him.
Mum is going to give me that look and then she’s gonna embarrass me by being too loud with her honest but too honest comments.
Cars went by and I kept scanning for their Uber, they had shared the ride status with me but it had stopped a couple of blocks away from here. I thought it was a bug and I tried to call them instead, unsuccessfully.
I’d better go back inside and check on him, they are not picking up their phones anyway… assholes, funny how roles reversed, they used to lose it at me when I didn’t pick up on their phone calls within the first three seconds.
I headed back and now he was gone too, what’s going on today? Lemme call him.
“Babe, where are you? I see some glasses on the table” — I inquired confused and a bit concerned, everyone was giving up on me today, on this important day.
“Hehe, turn around…” — he replied with his amused voice.
I did and, damn it, dad did it again, one of his pranks. They were all together already, at their, I guess, second round of drinks, talking crap about me for sure! They looked fine, enjoying themselves, maybe things are going well!
“Hey mum, hey dad! I thought you were lost… what happened?” — I asked as I kissed and hugged them. Dad spin me around lifting me and then joked about me being too heavy for his back.
“Update your repertoire dad, these are like 20 years old jokes!”
“If they are not broken, don’t fix them!” — he answered while winking at me and pointing at my big smile and pinching my cheek right afterwards.
“We were just telling your handsome boyfriend, or should I say fiancée…” — mum added “muuuuuuummmmm!!” I promptly stopped her while feeling a build up of heat on my face, especially my cheeks.
Dad, very entertained, grabbed mum’s hip and finished her sentence “yeah, so we were telling your —friend— about that time you used to love spinning at the park on that thing, the spinning thing thingy” he was at it again, I couldn’t stop laughing.
As jokes, laughter and awkwardness kept unfolding I kinda zoomed out, like if I separated from my body and observed the whole thing in third person. That’s what I want, what mum and dad have. Is this it? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe they already ran a background check on him, they jokingly came in early to spook him out or something like that. Dad loved to test characters, mum loved to test dad so… so far I’d say this meeting is a success!
As I went to nod to myself in approval I was again in the middle of it and they were all looking at me, like waiting for an answer.
“What? Why are you guys looking at me like that?” — I asked everyone and no one in particular.
“You didn’t touch your drink, is there anything you want to tell us?” — dad asked me, again, apparently I didn’t hear it the first time around. Shit, he had figured out already! Actually, maybe it was mum, she whispered something to his ear and I had noticed how she was looking at my body, at how my clothes fitted… she wouldn’t have dared, dad, instead, didn’t give a single ef, some things never change…
“…Early, early days… that’s also why you guys are here” I replied, again excited and a bit scared, I looked at them both in the eyes.
In one instant — tears. Two tears of joy cut open my dad’s face as he hugged me, this time, refraining from spinning me around. Mum wiped them off his face with her hand and asked me “Are you happy? You look happy” with her cracking voice while my dad fake punched my… friend and then congratulated him, slowly morphing into a more composed face, I noticed for the first time some wrinkles on his forehead, were they new?
“Your balls, mind them. You better be a man with our little, not so little girl anymore… she is one of our most precious accomplishments in life and I will make sure that she is OK no matter what, I am sure you can understand… you are going to take care of her, correct?” — dad told him with his trademark serious face.
“Yes sir, it’s going to be my duty but also my pleasure, I love her very much, sir” he answered as he gave him a strong handshake without losing eye contact for a second. He had never told me that he loved me and now he told my dad.
—
Naturally, they chose today of all days to be late. The mixture of excitement and terror at introducing my boyfriend to my parents was palpable. I knew Dad would put him through the wringer—it’s just his way, but how my boyfriend navigates Dad’s interrogation would be telling. I had faith in him; otherwise, I wouldn’t have arranged this meeting.
Mom would certainly give me that look before inevitably embarrassing me with her loud and brutally honest comments.
As cars passed by, I anxiously scanned each one for their Uber. They had shared their ride status, which oddly showed a stop a few blocks away. Assuming it was a glitch, I attempted to call them, to no avail.
Frustrated and a bit amused by the irony—I remembered how they’d panic if I missed their calls within the first three seconds—I decided to head back inside. Maybe they were having trouble connecting as well. The roles had amusingly reversed.
Inside, my boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. What on earth was happening today? Dialing his number, I tried to hide my concern.
“Babe, where are you? I see some glasses on the table,” I asked, more confused than ever, feeling a bit abandoned on this important day.
“Hehe, turn around…” His voice, laced with amusement, came through the phone.
As I turned, a mixture of relief and annoyance washed over me—Dad’s penchant for pranks had struck again. There they all were, laughing together, presumably at my expense, already on their second round of drinks. Perhaps things were going better than I expected.
“Hey, Mom, Dad! Thought you’d gotten lost...what happened?” I greeted them with hugs and kisses. Dad, in his typical fashion, lifted me in a playful spin, joking about my weight—a tease as ancient as time.
“Update your jokes, Dad. They’re like 20 years old!”
“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!” He retorted, his wink and the pinch on my cheek drawing a big smile from me.
Mom, ever the instigator of blushes, hinted at my boyfriend being more than just that, prompting my immediate, flustered protest. Dad, seizing the opportunity for another jest, recounted my childhood antics with his usual flair, leaving us all in stitches.
As the evening unfolded, filled with jokes and moments of awkward laughter, I found myself momentarily stepping back, observing the scene as if from outside my body. This warmth, this teasing affection, was exactly what I wanted. Had they done their due diligence on him, surprising us both by arriving early? It seemed Dad’s character tests and Mom’s subtle endorsements were in full swing—a promising sign.
Caught in my thoughts, I barely noticed the silence that had fallen over the room until their collective gaze turned to me, expectant.
“What? Why are you all staring?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.
“You haven’t touched your drink. Is there something you want to share?” Dad’s voice, filled with a mix of curiosity and concern, broke through my reverie.
Realizing the significance of the moment—and perhaps that Mom had already guessed the truth—I met their eyes, a mix of joy and apprehension swirling within me.
In an instant, tears of happiness etched lines down Dad’s face as he embraced me, his usual playful spin tempered by the gravity of the moment. Mom, with a gentle touch, wiped his tears away, her voice trembling as she sought confirmation of my happiness.
Dad’s serious demeanor returned as he addressed my boyfriend, emphasizing the importance of caring for their cherished daughter. The sincerity and love in my boyfriend’s affirmation, a declaration he had yet to make directly to me, sealed the moment with its profound significance.
Day #4: Lost in and with AlleysI’m at a loss for my current location. What was meant to be a short stroll has turned into a perplexing loop of the same streets for at least twenty minutes. My cell phone has no signal, and even GPS fails me. Perhaps the towering buildings that he…
Day #4: Lost in and with Alleys
I’m at a loss for my current location. What was meant to be a short stroll has turned into a perplexing loop of the same streets for at least twenty minutes. My cell phone has no signal, and even GPS fails me. Perhaps the towering buildings that hem in these narrow “Vicoli” are to blame.
My “wifey” and kids are likely waiting, probably imagining I’ve wandered off into my own past. Which I did. I grew up here, knowing every alley and corner as intimately as the back of my hand. I remember where my father’s house stood, literally where he was born, where Argo, his loyal dog, would bark joyfully, and where he played as a child.
But now, where is everyone? The streets are deserted, punctuated only by a plethora of “For Sale” signs so faded that the phone numbers have nearly been erased by time and weather.
A red ball suddenly comes bouncing toward me, followed by a little boy, with his grandmother, I suppose, trailing behind. She’s shouting, breathlessly, taking short pauses “Slow down! You’ll trip on a sanpietrino! You’ll hurt yourself! That man will give you the ball. Ask him. Say ‘please.’ Be a good boy!”
I stop the ball and hand it to the polite child, who thanks me and dashes back to his grandmother. She steps closer, scrutinizing my face, almost touching me and asks in our familiar dialect, “A chi sei figlio tu?” It’s a question about lineage, one I was often asked as a boy in these very streets.
I can’t help but smile. Despite the signs of decline, there are still families here, pulsing with life, one generation softly passing the torch to the next through simple acts like chasing after a ball and the hyperactive child.
One day, the meek may inherit this place, or perhaps they will simply become a part of its labyrinthine memory.
Each day unfolds with a single random image from Unsplash, sparking the creation of a story.
Why? This ritual is not merely about storytelling; it’s a pathway to a legacy I’m building for my children, something I wish I received from my parents instead of “stuff” — a book that delves into the intricacies of mistakes, healing, pain, success, and the shifting sands of societal values. This narrative explores the devaluation of human virtues, the nuances of grift and speculation, addiction, the evolving roles within society, the impact of feminism, leadership, and the vital importance of responsibility and accountability.
Cool, but who for? It’s a story meant to answer questions that distant relatives, whom I’ve never met or fallen out of touch with, might ponder about our shared lineage and the world that shaped us.
As a devoted father, this endeavour is my beacon, guiding the legacy I wish to leave behind. Writing, in a language that wasn’t my first, presents a unique challenge — one that I tackle with stoic determination. It’s an effort to break barriers, to communicate more profoundly, not just with my immediate family, but with anyone on a journey of self-discovery and growth.
But who are you anyway?
With a background in engineering, entrepreneurship, investments, and a heart that beats for art, beauty, and nature, I am deeply passionate about technology, history, psychology, and uncovering the layers of what makes things ‘weird.’ Above all, I’m a family man, a software artisan committed to lifelong learning, eager to share the insights gleaned from my quest to minimise regrets.
Follow my journey here and on X, let’s connect even if you simply want to tell me how much my content sucks. I’d love some honest feedback!
Day #5: AirbnBabyImage credits: Peter Thomas on Unsplash — https://unsplash.com/@lifeof_peter_Mumma and Dadda are not around; I hear them chatting in the other room with a lady they called a baby sitter. Pfft. If they think I’m going to just sit down with her, a perfect stranger…
Mumma and Dadda are not around; I hear them chatting in the other room with a lady they called a baby sitter. Pfft. If they think I’m going to just sit down with her, a perfect stranger, while they go out and about without me, they’re utterly mistaken! Mumma is wearing heels, that’s the sign that tells me that they are about to abandon me. Temporarily, yes, but still. They told me to sit and play here with my trusty toy, the block set that doubles as a little chair, so I can sit like adults and play pretend. I’ll never understand why they do this sitting thing so much. Isn’t it much better to just run around all the time?
I also have my new favourite book, the “Encyclo-something.” It’s full of things I don’t understand, all seemingly unrelated to each other. It’s beautiful, but after a while, I have so many questions that my head hurts if I can’t ask them to anyone. I’ve already had my dose of headache for today. It’s time to unwind.
But… I’m somewhere new today, in this place adults call “Airbabby,” or something like that. I need to know more. What is this thing with a weird yellow plate and a stick next to it? And these other plates? Daddy looked at them the way he does when he eats a steak or when he looks at Mum sometimes, especially after a glass of that dark red water that’s not for kids.
I’m intrigued. Oh, wait… this thing has switches, like the ones we have at home! I must try all of them!
As I flip the bigger switch, the plate starts spinning. “I love spinning,” I think, as I do a couple of spins myself in solidarity. The stick moves gently and starts caressing the plate. It reminds me of Mum telling me not to slap Dad but to touch his beard gently instead.
Suddenly, loud music starts playing. Is this the reward or punishment for my mischief? I run away just in case, anticipating the “Evelyn, no!” that Dad will inevitably say, well… roar like that lion I saw on the big screen.
Peeking from behind the sofa that’s made me invisible, I see them all looking at me, smiling broadly with twinkling eyes. The lady says something and uses the word “cute.” Okay, maybe I like her after all.
Mum takes Dad’s hand and kisses him. “I have to join them!” I think, running as fast as my legs can carry me towards them. I hug their legs and say, “Up. Cuddle.”
I take their faces in my hands, and I join them together as I look closely at the extra kiss I’ve triggered, then I pull them both towards me, and they kiss one cheek each. “I love yaaa,” I say. Twice, to perfect my pronunciation. They seem to like that. I like doing things they like… well, except for not touching weird stuff in weird places. But that wasn’t me, was it?
Join My Journey: One Shot, One Story
Each day unfolds with a single random image from Unsplash, sparking the creation of a story.
Why? This ritual is not merely about storytelling; it’s a pathway to a legacy I’m building for my children, something I wish I received from my parents instead of “stuff” — a book that delves into the intricacies of mistakes, healing, pain, success, and the shifting sands of societal values. This narrative explores the devaluation of human virtues, the nuances of grift and speculation, addiction, the evolving roles within society, the impact of feminism, leadership, and the vital importance of responsibility and accountability.
Cool, but who for? It’s a story meant to answer questions that distant relatives, whom I’ve never met or fallen out of touch with, might ponder about our shared lineage and the world that shaped us.
As a devoted father, this endeavour is my beacon, guiding the legacy I wish to leave behind. Writing, in a language that wasn’t my first, presents a unique challenge — one that I tackle with stoic determination. It’s an effort to break barriers, to communicate more profoundly, not just with my immediate family, but with anyone on a journey of self-discovery and growth.
But who are you anyway?
With a background in engineering, entrepreneurship, investments, and a heart that beats for art, beauty, and nature, I am deeply passionate about technology, history, psychology, and uncovering the layers of what makes things ‘weird.’ Above all, I’m a family man, a software artisan committed to lifelong learning, eager to share the insights gleaned from my quest to minimise regrets.
Follow my journey here and on X, let’s connect even if you simply want to tell me how much my content sucks. I’d love some honest feedback!
I am different, stuff hits me, happens to me and I return stuff back my own way. My own frequency. Most living creatures will evolve to notice the differen…
I am different, stuff hits me, happens to me and I return stuff back my own way. My own frequency.
Most living creatures will evolve to notice the differences between me and my peers, good, because I am. Different. My whole identity relies on my uniqueness.
Those who argue that I am just like them are ignorant, they don't know what I am going through and I will make sure they know.
What? You don't even care I exist? How dare you? This is very offensive, it almost makes me want to return a different frequency.
Is it better now? Can you see me? Hello? Why can't anyone see my pain? Helloooooo!
What is wrong with the world? Why can't I be special? I am, I know I am. I can do anything. But you have to look at me, otherwise it's pointless.
What? Me just doing my thing and mingle with the others? No way! I am not like the others, literally. Mixing up to make new unique frequences? Uhmmm, it's interesting but it's a theory that's too easy to push too much up until you get to the one frequency, the one that only the holy prism can split.
A color is a characteristic of visual perception that results from the light they emit, transmit, or reflect. This perception is mediated by the wavelength (or frequency) of the light, with different wavelengths corresponding to different colors. Colors can be described in terms of their hue (such as red, green, or blue), saturation (the strength or purity of the color), and brightness or value (how light or dark the color is).
Colors are perceived when light receptors within the eye, called cones, are stimulated by electromagnetic radiation in the visible spectrum. Humans typically have three types of cones, each sensitive to a different range of wavelengths, which allows us to perceive a wide spectrum of colors through a process known as trichromacy. The interpretation of colors is also influenced by context, culture, and individual differences, making color perception a complex and fascinating aspect of human vision.
