I was born there. When I was a child, my parents moved to Bologna and then to Milan. I moved back to Bologna a few years ago, but I have to leave again. It's a bit complicated. The truth...is that I'm not happy in one place or the other... so I've decided to leave.
I wonder if there's some place in this world where people go to get better. Probably not. You're probably right. We run around and around but end up the same as before. That's what's happening to me.
Sometimes I feel like I have no right to be where I am. Perhaps that's why I keep moving.
It's like asking, "What do you believe in?" Those are big words that call for precise answers. Deep down...one doesn't really know what one believes in. One believes in humanity...in a certain sense. A little less in justice. A little more in progress. One believes in socialism...perhaps. What matters is to act as one thinks right -right for oneself and for others. In other words, with a clean conscience.Mine is at peace. Does that answer your question?
You have no idea what men in other countries do. For example, in Jordan I saw men eat mutton fat and honey for breakfast. What about the Chinese? They eat ground rhinoceros horn.
I hate him. Your husband. He's like a vulture, always ready to swoop down on a factory in bankruptcy or a woman in distress. You'll see.He'll end up getting his way with me too.
If I were to go away, I'd take everything. Everything I see. All the things I use every day. Even the ashtrays. Then you might as well just stay put. You'd just end up missing everything: the street where you live, your city. You see in classified ads: "For sale. Owner must relocate." As if it were an excuse to abandon everything...or almost.
If I were to leave never to return, I'd take you with me too. You're part of me now. I mean, part of everything around me. If Ugo had looked at me the way you have these few days, he'd have understood lots of things.
I never get enough. Why must I always need other people? I must be an idiot. That's why I can't seem to manage. You know what I'd like? I'd like everyone who's ever cared about me...here around me now, like a wall.
Why is that smoke yellow? Because it's poisonous. You mean if a little birdie flies there, it'll die? The little birdies know by now. They don't fly there anymore.
- What's all this for?
- It's a radio telescope to listen to the stars.
- I met a girl. She was very sick. She wanted it all. The doctor kept telling her, "You must learn to love...someone or something. Your husband, your son, a job, even a dog. But not husband, son, job, dog, tree, river..." Like there was no ground beneath her...like she was sliding down a slope...sinking...always on the verge of drowning...with nothing around her.
- Not even her husband?
- Not even him. And anyway, he was away.
There was a girl who lived on an island. Grown-ups bored her and frightened her too. She didn't like kids her age. They all pretended to be grown up. So she was always alone...with the cormorants...seagulls...and wild rabbits. She'd discovered a small beach far from town with crystal-clear water and pink sand. She loved that spot. The colors of nature were so beautiful, and there was no noise. She'd leave only when the sun did too.
One morning...a sailing ship appeared. It wasn't like the usual boats that passed by. This was a real sailing ship...the kind that had braved stormy seas all over the world...and who knows - maybe even beyond. Seen from afar, it was a splendid sight. But up close...it took on a mysterious air. There was no one aboard. It paused for a few minutes and then turned and sailed off...as silently as it had come. She was used to people's strange ways,so she wasn't surprised. But no sooner was she back on shore when...One mystery is all right, but two are too many. Who was singing? The beach was deserted like always, but there was that voice, sometimes near, sometimes far.At one point it seemed to come from the sea itself...or from an inlet among the rocks, the numerous rocks...that she had never realized...were like flesh. And the voice...in that spot...sounded so sweet. Who was singing?
Everything was singing. Everything.
