see you in a moment, berlin post

My friend Otho says "see you in a moment" when we part for months. Like him, I've never liked goodbyes. This isn't one.

I arrived in Berlin in 2016, fleeing a collapsed relationship and failed dreams in Torino. I came seeking a place to live out my paradoxes, to stop lying—to others, to myself. Berlin promised freedom to discover who lived beneath this face.

Seven years passed. Every cell in my body replaced by Berlin's infamous water. The city's quicksand energy—that peculiar force of marshland cities that keeps people stuck, addicted, asleep but also incredibly hypnotized in an endless time wormhole—held me in its grip. I joked about escaping before it was too late, ignoring the visceral bond forming between us.

The Sisyphean Years

My father calls me inconstant. He's not wrong. I dive deep and fast into projects, relationships, ideas—then vanish before commitment crystallizes, before identity hardens. Each time friends ask about my latest venture, I explain its transformation into something else entirely.

Enthusiasm. Depression. Enthusiasm. Depression. The Berlin purgatory.

Startups, communities, relationships—all boulders rolled up hills, only to tumble back down. Yet there was meaning in the futility. In a world that treats your passions as "cute hobbies," saying yes to this confused but increasingly sweet dream became an act of rebellion.

The Experiment

In May 2020, amid global chaos, I invited friends to live together—to navigate the coming decades side by side. This experiment, moosDG, sought to merge the fragmented peripheries of our inner and material worlds. It brought scars alongside connections, exposing the fragility of boundaries and illusions of community. Yet through this portal, I met many who made this pale blue dot feel warmer, less lonely.

New Horizons

Now I anchor briefly in the Netherlands for nautical studies—not just to navigate ships, but to steer toward horizons aligned with my deepest values. My parents' recent illnesses remind me of time's preciousness, the urgency of living fully.

My next adventure calls from Egypt's depths: establishing a freediving school with a world champion, Tito Zappala'. A dance between breath and depth, an invitation to explore the vastness within.

Until We Meet Again

Berlin has been my stage for transformation—darkness and light, despair and hope, loss and discovery. To those who illuminated the path in darkness: thank you. This city's energy and lessons remain part of me as I close this chapter.

I'll return February 26 - March 14 for transitions, closing circles, preparing for what's next. Let's make these moments count. In every goodbye lies the promise of a new hello.

The world we try to conquer, fix, or belong to never really existed. By the time we craft tools to engage it, it's already transformed into another generation's illusion. We live perpetually in the past, our perceptions always trailing reality.

Some remarkable souls interrupt this cycle. They ambush self-importance with patience, cunning, ruthlessness, and sweetness—losing human form to navigate the infinite. They grok the infinite. They become infinite. I'm just trying to do that.

Was I resisting my life more than necessary? Perhaps. But in that resistance, in those seven Berlin years of becoming, I learned to dance with my own contradictions.

See you in a moment.