Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Jamaican Traditional Dress

G.

Tonight I write to G. I do not know, G., or at least: I do not know enough about him really. It 'a pretext for something else.
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G. he lived for five years in close contact with a score of other human beings (me one of those) who did not want to know. Who have not even been able, for an infamous trial to mature nondum est: if I do not want to know, I do not expose, if not I expose myself no one will ever know.

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G. arrives on time, he goes in time: hard to notice its presence, its absence hardly weights (an empty desk in a class of high school: the element with the shortest half-life of the periodic table adolescent). G. okay at school, but not too much: his monomaniacal, the ability of neurotic who gets good in the one thing I do in life, who wants the best from the only thing he has. I do not know yet what is the idea that G. staff have interrelation: the idea of recreating G. is eating a sandwich in a hurry, staring in silence at the map of ancient Rome hangs in the classroom. G. rarely speaks from a certain point does not speak hardly ever: it has the tone of one who feels a shame plane thin, drugged into a bitter pride that does not ask for help or commiseration. Law without intonation: it is not so, perhaps. It 's just incapable of saying anything that shows that he lives indeed in our world, perhaps in a somewhat 'rough and patched, but at least with the light of those who have a little' fantasy. G. bored, G. He has no ideas, G. has no friends, G. has no hope.
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Rumour sull'omoaffettività latent G.: too many chewing gum stuck under tables soundproof the ether above, and the voices never get to be open spit in the face of allegations (and what there is to spit, know at that time sad that we live in packs, in which everyone is different, but some are more different and so should not pay its diversity). G. is a worrying level, pre-pubertal, not emerges in any way, has a children's clothing, the same hairstyle for years, methodical, reassuring. A G. Like the story, reads a lot of books about everything that happens on the unification of Italy. Rattles off names and dates as any contemporary rock star rattle off names, dates of concerts. G. but does not know what the law on the books, yet desire a life that conforms to that of others. He wants friends and because 'no, a girl ... still does not know what good for us, but wants. And he finds it, he said, in every female who spoke to him, or even just casually greets him at the entrance door of school. I was told that G. arrives at school one morning with a flower. Tell me that G. suffered greatly, having been rejected. I know these things in years, when "and not yet 'gone', even when the teachers take it a bit 'around this thing. What I know for sure, and 'that of G. and A., and between him and the first F, there were talks of the fact that the loan of a Bic (tap the pen cap that chewed lips: a G hand trembles when I think about, it drops the pen, blush, picks it up, curses his ilk), ask the time. To those who think that what 'alive a streak pathetic, sad or shameful, I'll' remember the extreme example, very common in Persian and Arabic literature, the man who falls in love with something generic to have only heard talk?
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G. would like to run, play in the snow, can not 'do it. I was told that G. once studied for a task in which everyone is able to copy. It 'the only one to go wrong: it is not' just, G. thinks, if there is 'something that does not tear if not by his death and cold hands and' the average school. So G. a spy, the task is discarded and repeated. I do not think there is a more 'efficient to rise to the One, Plotinus, Undifferentiated, Anonymous and Solo, the fact is that from that day on his gray sweater rat, always the same over the years, become an excuse to confuse it with the wall, the mold The years and a small school budget (used by the principal secretaries to take more and more ' handsome over the years) have made the same color.
From that day on, every morning G. gets up, washes (bad) teeth, gets dressed (male), tackles another disgusting careful to avoid the saliva of others, or what is' worse than spitting, indifference. Perhaps Reich advocates a new, perhaps experiencing erections secret, approaching the writings of his teenage heroes (Camillo Benso, General Cadorna, Galeazzo Ciano), similar to those of Mishima in front of St. Sebastian pierced. Maybe it will happen one day 'that the daughter of neighbors, fourteen years, will go' to ask for sugar, and after nine years will succeed 'to escape from the cellar where G. has segregated, tortured every morning (only during times when the figure minute and 'an odd multiple of the amount of hours) with a rusty crowbar.
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We (I) fear, when I hear the stories of M., the only old school and that the 'left' friend ': pale share some interests, M. perhaps to live the same discomfort but does not give up, try to give himself and his world, a form of his competence, enabling him to emerge, not reeling in the shit, hope to purify themselves with a new anonymous, that university, giving a coat of white wall of the invective that the prejudices of a handful of peasants high school (the worst kind, the ones who placed the spade shouldered much less noble instruments), have built him. M. then try to stay close, and with that little (or so) that the everyday 'teaches the listener, sometimes heartening, stick rarely has his fears at the bottom, and no more' answers in your pocket or jacket worn. With me G. does not speak, I 'I speak with him if not for the absurdly polite formal (read: that the circumstances and your attitude to force such a kind), to me G. does not speak, but when M. tells me what is wrong and should be alone with her grief, compassion generated in me by years of exacerbating suffering due to a socialization 'poorly expressed convince me to do something.

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