Once upon a time, I wanted to live high on a hill with a view of the sea. But then I realized it meant having a car and being organized enough to buy everything I needed all at one time and not being able to casually have aperitifs with my friends on the waterfront. Plus all those movies about serial killers made me afraid of the isolation. So was the choice to be poetic or to be practical?

Is it possible that practical can be poetic, too?

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