ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE AIRHEAD
The date of a sad anniversary approached. More than thirty years had already elapsed, but it was a fact never fully accepted, considering the havoc caused in the lives of all family members⦠And, perhaps, it still represented a loss as tangible as irreversible and repairable only to her⦠But, unfortunately, it had gone this wayâ¦
A morning when she could not sleep, Alessia had discovered how a severe headache can become productive by using diligence and not more laziness. She learned that her own body, her limbs, could become a labor force and, at the same time, a way to release the stress of her many expectations, including even the physical well-being one. In the meantime, she had taken a pill and, while expecting for its magical effect, she alternated her right leg to the left one, with a cloth under her feet, to dart across the floor of her endless house, and, playing and dancing, to do such a real battle against the boredom of that expectation. Moreover, with this sort of strange exercise, her legs came alive from the soft night numbness, causing a sweet feeling of vitality, unexpected to be honest, as unexpected was the regress of the extreme migraine which had aroused so many bad thoughts.
Alessia had developed a very strange mania⦠never had before: the urge to have her whole life and all her stuff under strict control, perhaps because, up to now, she had not had her own territory to keep at bay, to keep in house as a beautiful rose⦠perhaps because, up to now, she had not had anything seriously belonging to her⦠everything was for rent. Her own existence was in rent. How can this be? But yes! When for years they make you believe that you owe something to someone, in the end, your life gets out of your hand⦠As her dearest friend⦠Where was she? That day she could have found her or not. She had suddenly popped up in front of her, abruptly reminding her the carefree years of her life, but not for that they were lighter years in her memories⦠They certainly were the truest and authentic ones, together with her new home, back then as now. Now that she had found her, that she had found them â her friends, her companions â a strong emotion had shocked her heart while waiting to see all of them, all together⦠But is it true? Is it possible? âWe'll see,â she had told her beloved and sweet husband, âIn the meantime, I liveâ she told herself âand I endorse this feeling⦠And that is saying a lot!â
Meanwhile, she also thought about her musician friends: those friends who had dominated the meanness of the people the night before, forcing their mouths to silence, their empty words to dissolve into nothingness, to disappear swallowed as by black holes, enraptured by the beauty of their notes and amazed by the magic enchantment of the music which had really saved the whole world that night. The really as annoying as inappropriate noises and yelling of that useless crew gathered there, were the most representative nonsense of our times. Hard and tough times, but just as light if interpreted with the eyes of that useless riffraff who saw - see, luck or need - everything with the blinds' sight.
âWe need a revolutionary page, considreing the times we live,â said the priest during the homily of All Saints' Day âbut that page does exist! It was written two thousand years ago⦠It is not true that rich people do not have problems; it is not true that the well-being is all that you could want in this life. The opposite is true. Not easy to accept, but that is it, just like that⦠And so, understand it and try to explain it!â
Those days were full of important meetings and equally important emotions. Dates to be marked, to be remembered. Alessia could not forget that beautiful, sunny but not hot afternoon when she had seen again the faces of her past⦠Swapping stories, at last, as they were used to, joking, playing and enjoying the elapsing time.
They were amusing themselves, but they were not the only ones. Yes, because the image of some poor people, immigrants and others, had impressed a lot during the weekly fair - a great deal had been said about that those days. They were forced to discharge their physiological needs on the street, on the beach, behind a concrete corner⦠They were ugly images to be seen as well as to be transmitted, the reality of itinerant workers who cannot find almost never the right means to carry out their activities in peace; they were oppressed sometimes by bad urban habits, sometimes by the local ones, but above all by the failings of those who would have had to provide for the reception habits from immemorial time!
A strong thematic, never addressed in the right way, never fully figured by hosts and guests, by offering the opportunity to the many charlatans on duty, to complain, criticize, offend while doing nothing, sitting back. Or even worse, seeing non-existent positivity, appearing and being seen as a party game without a purpose, other than to âappearâ⦠a game for the sake of it. A game harmful to themselves and to the community, a game without foundations and the house without a foundation crumbles. Everyone knows it, even babies. Itâs a risky game.
