Now, if you are interested in this mess I would like to share some of my views with you.

I have learned from my fellow humans that falling in love is one of the most noble experiences in
this life. I now incline to say that it is rather a disease. It narrows the eyesight and creates
obsessions and weakness. Love is a feeling that has to be wisely developed towards the other in
order not to hurt yourself or others. Altruistic love with no egoism is an utopia: either you don't
crave or you have asexual feelings. Falling in love is realizing a lack in your life and the
expectation from the loved one to fill your emptiness. On the other hand it is the self sufficient
who is attractive. And the one who is self-sufficient is subject to a form of apathy, unless a
strong passion like art is included in his self-sufficiency. Realizing the needs, what lacks in your
life can create unbearable burden for the loved one...E.g. "take me, I am so poor", "take me, I am
so desperate to escape loneliness" Is this attractive? Only a few are willing to grow such
desperate creatures and make them adorable. I don't know any of these few exceptions. I think
only a mixture of love and wisdom(brain) is attractive for the other.

I have brought my PhD work to the end against what I call dignity and dedicated it to love in
order to show off. Yes, it was a desperate need to evade my secret suffering for love, for the
eternally unfulfilled love and to cry it out. Because every time I fell in love, my fate beat me up
properly. At that time, by 2010 the fate was turning against me: a collapsing marriage, a
shamefully mediocre PhD on a sucked dry topic, a torrent of refusals stopping a career in the
German chemical industry, lack of social life which I so much value. I was slowly losing my
mind seeing how this girl, with whom I so unhappily fell in love, a rational but charming,
apparently vivid but deeply unhappy career-girl of extreme emotional aridity, has united with my
dirty fate, like in a marriage, a disastrous marriage. One day I couldn't bear the tension anymore,
a tension that she sustained since it gave her feminine value and I have shared my most intense
feelings to her: "l am deeply in love with you since so long...and the dead-end in our relationship
makes my life useless" said I, adding with a sad, superior smile "others would have committed
suicide". A wise observer warned me about the outcome of my passion for her but I couldn't care
less. Like one could predict, instead of sharing love, she resumed me to a dangerous psycho,
rewarding me with even more pain and isolation, just like my own fate did it. And that was the
end for our passionate interaction based on emotion: in which I was so rich and she was so poor.
All my excuses and passionate explanations that followed hardly had any visible effect. She now
belongs to the German industry.
End of the story.

I have started my work convinced that I can make a better world through my enthusiasm. Green
chemistry and renewable raw materials will make the world better. With this thought have I
come to Germany, glad to have the chance to contribute a bit to the prosperity of mankind... In
the meanwhile I came to see my German surroundings slightly differently, obscuring my great
passion for the language and for this country to which I have always felt attached. Alas, apart
from its great nature, this is a country with many souls ravaged by technology, efficiency and
concrete, restless and egoist ambitions... these are the national means to be happy and channels
to passion. Without chaotic feelings, without colors, with drugs and alcohol as main keys to an
intense way of living. In the pub it is allowed to be more human, my fellow Germans are safe
from punishment by their criminal, unwritten social conduct. This society survives emotionally
through the feelings put at their disposal by the film industry (mainly Hollywood). But I still feel
attached to Germany. All this time I have done what my heart, my strong impulses told me to do
and I kept losing energy without any visible progress. It might have all been an illusion.

Was it all worth it? I don't know... I haven't reached my goals, but I like to think that all these
years I made art out of my own life: the unrest, the revolt, the pain, incomprehensible fears, the
beautiful hills and the brook in front of my balcony, all those tears and cigarettes, all those
writings expressing intense feelings, all those conversations and the loneliness ... they colored
the life and gave birth to unexpected ideas.
Above all, now I know how generous and sympathetic my friends can be. An excellent
discovery, a bliss.
And the quest goes on: He who knows what is the most excellent becomes the most excellent
among his kinsmen. (from Chandogya Upanishad)