Like a robot! It have been almost two years since I arrived to London. Although I had studied English in Spain since primary school I didn't have too much idea about the language when I first came, I had not had any contact with English since I finished my A levels, and that was 10 years ago! I could only remember a little about grammar and some vocabulary. My first 6 month were really hard, even I couldn't understand simple questions and it was a very big effort to read everything, I couldn't say almost a word. Now, I am starting to feel more confident, I can do by myself almost everything: shopping, banking, having a chat with people... but I still having lots of problems for communicating sometimes. Talking by phone still being hard, and when I speak I feel clumsy.I can feel as well that people sometimes can not understand what I am saying. I think my best improvement have been reading. I can read almost everything but when I write I start to be too much creative with the order of the words, which is very important in English but not really in Spanish. I also feel weak with the connections between sentences and that makes feel like a robot (but not like a cool one). I feel a bit like a robot when I speak, write or think in English. I think also I sound like a robot or like the google translator, and that is awful.

Daft Punk and Georgio. Checking my listening and my spelling. When I was fifteen, sixteen, when I really started to play guitar, I definitely wanted to become in a musician. It was almost impossible because the dream was so big that I didn't see any chance, because I was living in a little town, I was studying. When I finally broke away for school and became in a musician I thought " Well, now I may have a little bit of a chance". Because all I really wanted to do is music, and not only play music but compose music. At that time, in Germany, in 69 - 70, they had already discoteks, so I would take my car, I would go to a discotek and I think I had about 6 and 8 songs. I would patiently sleep in my car because I didn't want to drive home, and that helped me for about almost two years to survive in the beginning. I wanted to do an album with the sounds of the 50's, the sounds of the 60's, of the 70's, and them have the sound of the future. And I said " wait a second. I know the synthesizer, why don't try to use the synthesizer? which is the sound of the future". And I didn't have any idea what to do but I knew the click, so we put a click on the 24 track. I knew that could be the sound of the future but I didn't realize how much impact would be. My name is Giovanni Giorgio but everybody calls me Giorgio.

Coffee I was there asking for a "cortado", explaining to the man behind the counter what a cortado is. -I would like a spresso but with a shot of milk. I think it's called macchiatto. - I know how to make a coffee - he said moving his hand- I'm Italian. What you want is a palomino. I have never listened before something like palomino but, what the hell?, he was Italian, he knew how to make a coffee, so I just said yes with my head. The man immediately changed from English to Italian. He had realised my English was crap and guessed for my expression that Italian was always welcome in my ears. -Questo ragazzo è spagnolo anche- he told me pointing to his assistant, a very young boy with big smile. I had not smiled like this for two years. The queu for a coffee was going big while the man made my cortado. He had a warm conversation mixing up Spanish, Italian and Englisn. The smell was so good that I though I couldn`t wait too much longer, but the man was taking his time to do it. I could feel the impatience growing up down my back. People in big coats whatched their watches frightened to miss the last train to London. The station was cold and empty, just the little corner where the coffee shop was located had any signal of life. -So, How long have you been here for?- the man asked to me. - Excuse me, Sir- a woman interrupted- we are going to miss the train. The man apologised to her but didn't hurry up. Intead he started to speak about the secret of a good coffee. I saw how the face of the woman got red. Her head started to swell getting bigger and bigger, her eyes got completely white. I steped back and covered my face with my hands.Suddenly her head exploded staining everybody with little pieces of brain. - Buenas noches- said the man giving to me the cortado, and walk to my train, enjoining the best coffee of England.