Every summer, I am overwhelmed by strange nostalgia. The sea is calling me… I am thinking of what Gautier writes: “You are not always from the country where you were born, and so you search through everything for your true homeland; those who are made in this way feel exiled in their city, strangers in their homes and tormented by inverse nostalgia. It’s a weird disease: we’re like caged birds of passage. When the time for departure arrives, great desires agitate you, and you are seized with anxiety when you see the clouds moving towards the side of light.”
Panayotis Papadimitropoulos
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