Why am I starting to blog?

Why not? That was the obvious answer, right? Quite honestly I have been writing journals since I can remember being able to write. I always urge to share with my friends what is happening in my life, my thoughts, my dreams, and my fantasies. Lately I have been writing non-stop. I really never experienced being in the constant company of the writing muse. Maybe because I was raised keeping so many secrets and as a rebellious reaction I must tell everyone my business, even to strangers. Maybe it's because I just moved from a place I have adopted to be my home by choice, a place where I have wonderful friends that I greatly miss, and this is my way to keep them closer to me despite the physical distance. I have been writing to get a new selection of subjects for my new show I want to perform in London. However I have been writing too much to be able to include everything in a show. This is going to be a very mixed compilation of random writing. From anything that catches my curiosity while I'm out, to my fiction filled daydreaming, to rants about anything from politics, to society, and my neurotic self.
If you were invited to read this I thank you for stopping by. You might at some point recognize yourself, although I won't reveal names to respect everyone privacy. I do tend to exaggerate in order to get more of a dramatic or comedic result. So please don't be offended, this is my way to express myself and more than anything it's for my own entertainment. However I was asked by a few friends to start a blog to keep in touch. So there you go!
If you just happened to stumble upon my blog I don't expect you to fully understand me, I'm usually not 100% serious when I'm in creative mode.
One more explanation before I officially start this madness. Why Viola Lunatica? First of all, I like the fact of using an alter ego. It's fun and again it's for privacy reasons. Viola means purple in Italian; everyone knows that is my favorite color. Lunatica... because I truly am a lunatic, the proper Italian translation is Moody. It came to me a couple of nights ago while I was highly intoxicated and walking home back in the middle of the night. During the same evening in my mind I must have told myself several times: "I love this city!!", "I fucking hate this place!", "I'm so happy I moved here!!!", "What the hell am I doing here??". Seriously, I intensely had such opposite reactions and feelings towards a city during the cycle of a few hours. I'm also convinced to have successfully auto-diagnosed myself with bipolar disorder... although I have never seen a therapist in my life and I don't plan on ever doing so. I have nothing against them, I love psychology and some point in my life I wanted to become one myself. I think I just like the fact of keeping my true self a mystery.