Life As A Bipolar Person

🇷🇴Ro-Ita-Ro-Ita🇮🇹

It was in 2005, around February. It so happened that my mother had to emigrate because we had a financial hole of about 8000 euros. Calculate the inflation, and you will realize that it was an impressive amount.

As a result, I went to visit her with thoughts of staying. It was a charming city, somewhere near the sea, with people different from what I knew in terms of human interaction.

To be completely honest, I was naive and closed-minded, always on the defensive. It was a necessary behavior to survive in a neighborhood where bullying was a daily occurrence, and the people around me mostly lived off schemes and scams.

Consequently, I felt out of place not only because I didn't speak the language but also because I had those idiotic misconceptions about foreigners that I had heard from others, such as being racist, xenophobic, etc.

My desire to stay was met with a harsh reality. Romania was not yet part of the EU, and it was extremely difficult to obtain the necessary documents.

Moreover, my dear friends, there were all kinds of police officers there, as it was a port city, so without proper documents, you risked getting arrested.

The conclusion? I stayed for as long as I could and was forced to return.

Since my hometown was beautiful but had no job opportunities, and I had become accustomed to the nearby sea, I decided to try to get a job on the coast.

And so, my adventure in Costinești began. It was a summer that I will never forget because you only encounter such things in movies with idiots, really foolish ones, not joking!

Said and done, I packed my bags, squeezed in a suit, and headed for Costinești.

The custom was to get a job before the start of the season to show people that you were serious and wouldn't leave them hanging in the high season.

However...to be continued.