Thursday, 13 January 2011
Wednesday, 12 January 2011
Überlegung über uns
Ich mag mich verändern, weil, seit es immer gleich scheint, dann glauben die Leute es. Dann, um mich daran zu erinnern, daß es nicht wahr ist, verändere ich mich.
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
Recuerdo de una noche
Incluso si tú no estás aquí
esta noche
noche de luna llena
te veo estar ahí
sonriéndome
y pasar los índices enharinados
su mis mejillas
para hacerme una broma
para hacerme reír.
Estaba feliz como un niño;
ahora estoy en la cama
pero no puedo dormir:
tu espíritu me mantiene despierto
pero tengo que satisfacer
el eco de tu voz
en mi corazón.
Es 23 de diciembre
y el departamento está vacío;
Salgo a fumar un cigarrillo
y ahí está,
de pie,
en la blanca nieve esperandome
"Que bello es aquí"
me dice,
para hacerme un elogio;
despues, con su
habitual sonrisa,
me pregunta:
"¿Qué vamos a hacer
esta noche?"
"Te llevaré a un lugar mágico"
respondo,
"Debemos pasar por un trabuqueto,
despues, de ahí
vamos a mirar el mundo
y las estrellas
y estaremos encantados
de nuestro secreto."
esta noche
noche de luna llena
te veo estar ahí
sonriéndome
y pasar los índices enharinados
su mis mejillas
para hacerme una broma
para hacerme reír.
Estaba feliz como un niño;
ahora estoy en la cama
pero no puedo dormir:
tu espíritu me mantiene despierto
pero tengo que satisfacer
el eco de tu voz
en mi corazón.
Es 23 de diciembre
y el departamento está vacío;
Salgo a fumar un cigarrillo
y ahí está,
de pie,
en la blanca nieve esperandome
"Que bello es aquí"
me dice,
para hacerme un elogio;
despues, con su
habitual sonrisa,
me pregunta:
"¿Qué vamos a hacer
esta noche?"
"Te llevaré a un lugar mágico"
respondo,
"Debemos pasar por un trabuqueto,
despues, de ahí
vamos a mirar el mundo
y las estrellas
y estaremos encantados
de nuestro secreto."
Ricordo di una sera
Anche se non ci sei
questa notte
notte di luna piena
ti vedo esserci
sorridermi
e passare i tuoi indici infarinati
sulle mie guance
per farmi uno scherzo,
per farmi sorridere.
Ero felice come un bambino;
ora sono a letto
ma non posso dormire:
il tuo spirito mi tiene sveglio,
ma mi devo accontentare
dell'eco della tua voce
nel mio cuore.
È il 23 dicembre
e il dipartimento è vuoto;
esco a fumare una sigaretta
e tu sei lì,
in piedi,
sulla neve bianca ad aspettarmi:
"Bello qua"
mi dici,
per farmi un complimento;
poi, col tuo
solito sorriso,
mi chiedi
"Che facciamo stasera?"
"Ti porto in un posto magico"
rispondo mio,
"Bisogna passare da una botola,
poi da lì
guarderemo il mondo
e le stelle
e saremo felici
del nostro segreto".
questa notte
notte di luna piena
ti vedo esserci
sorridermi
e passare i tuoi indici infarinati
sulle mie guance
per farmi uno scherzo,
per farmi sorridere.
Ero felice come un bambino;
ora sono a letto
ma non posso dormire:
il tuo spirito mi tiene sveglio,
ma mi devo accontentare
dell'eco della tua voce
nel mio cuore.
È il 23 dicembre
e il dipartimento è vuoto;
esco a fumare una sigaretta
e tu sei lì,
in piedi,
sulla neve bianca ad aspettarmi:
"Bello qua"
mi dici,
per farmi un complimento;
poi, col tuo
solito sorriso,
mi chiedi
"Che facciamo stasera?"
"Ti porto in un posto magico"
rispondo mio,
"Bisogna passare da una botola,
poi da lì
guarderemo il mondo
e le stelle
e saremo felici
del nostro segreto".
Sunday, 12 December 2010
Lettera ad Alessandro Baricco
Premessa
Siccome volevo scriverle una lettera, mi sono messo a cercare su internet il suo indirizzo. Dopo averlo a lungo cercato ma non trovato, mi sono immaginato che lei semplicemente non dispone di un indirizzo di posta elettronica pubblico.
Poi ho capito. Segue dunque la mia lettera.
Gentile Mormy,
volevo sapere se ha imparato, purtroppo, ad avere difese contro la meraviglia, oppure no.
Cordiali saluti,
Elisabeth
PS perchè, se il vecchio Anderson muore, allora il sig. Rail rimane da solo?
Siccome volevo scriverle una lettera, mi sono messo a cercare su internet il suo indirizzo. Dopo averlo a lungo cercato ma non trovato, mi sono immaginato che lei semplicemente non dispone di un indirizzo di posta elettronica pubblico.
Poi ho capito. Segue dunque la mia lettera.
Gentile Mormy,
volevo sapere se ha imparato, purtroppo, ad avere difese contro la meraviglia, oppure no.
Cordiali saluti,
Elisabeth
PS perchè, se il vecchio Anderson muore, allora il sig. Rail rimane da solo?
Sunday, 4 July 2010
Zu Fuss
- “Noch 'n ne!”
Ich stand an der Ampel.
- “Ihr Fahrrad ist kaputt: soll ich es glauben? Jeden Tag kommt sie zwar damit, aber gerade heute ist ihr rotes Fahrrad kaputt!”
Gruen.
Ueberqueren.
Viele Leute auf der Strasse... Die alte Frau, die mich fast ueberfahren hat: “Selbstverstaendlich: ihr Fahrrad ist nicht kaputt!”
Die Sonne schien noch, warme Luft streichelte meine Wange und zerraufte leicht meine Haare. Nachdem ich an meinem Lieblingsplatz angekommen war, kaufte ich mir Zigaretten: “Heute moechte ich ein bisschen Spass haben!”
Wir haetten eine Fahrradtour am Rhein gemacht, etwas Bio gegessen, ueber die Lehrerin gelacht, waeren wegen der flachen leichten Schiffe gefahren... Und dann, abends, waeren wir tanzen gegangen, ja, tanzen, wie dieser arme alte Mann, der nach Geld auf der Strasse fragte, krumm sitztend, vielleicht betrunken.. Er hatte eine Zigerette in der einen Hand, aber wenn er an ihr zog, dann lag die Zigarette nicht zwischen seinen Lippen, und er merkte das nicht... Sein Gesicht war von einem entlegenen Ausdruck ueberzogen; dann, ploetzlich, langsam machte er grosse Augen... Ich konnte aber nicht gut Deutsch, und andere Leute blieben hier stehen, um ihn anzusehen. Deshalb lief ich weg...
- “Ich kann nicht gut Deutsch sprechen... Aber ehrlich! Zum Beispiel: wie heisst die “ambulanza” auf Deutsch? Krankenauto?”
Noch ein Paar Schritte und der Gedanke nahm Gestalt an: “Aber wenn ich so denke, werde ich nie gut Deutsch sprechen!”
Danach hatte ich ein schlechtes Gefuehl: “Was, wenn er einen Infarkt gehabt haette?” Obwohl manche Leute, die vorbeigingen, ihn schnell ansahen, kuemmerte sich keiner um ihn, und er blieb gefangen in seinem toedlichen Rolle!
Kaum hatte ich diesen Gedanken gedacht, da lief ich schon zurueck.
- “Brauchen Sie ein Auto, ehm, eine Krankenschwester, ehm, ein Todwagen??”
Obwohl ich seine Worte nicht verstehen konnte, war ich sicher, dass er keinen Infarkt gehabt hatte. Dann nahm ich seine Hand: Am Anfang war ich ein bisschen unsicher und ich fuehlte die Augen der Passanten auf mir, aber spaeter wurden die Augen dieses Mannes hell, und ich schaemte mich nicht mehr, seine Hand zu nehmen.
Er redete weiter, aber ich konnte ihn weiterhin nicht verstehen. Deshalb schenkte ich ihm meine Zigarette: vielleicht waere das eine Loesung. Dann fragte ich mich, wie viele ich ihm geben muesste...
- “Nehmen Sie alle, bitte...”
Was noch? Sicher brauchte er Geld; ich dachte, dass fuenf Euro genug waeren, dass fuenf Euro richtig waeren... Richtig...
- “Nehmen Sie auch dies, bitte.”
Er nahm alles und sah zwar anerkennend aus, aber nicht interessiert, und redete weiter und hielt immer noch meine Hand: er wollte etwas anders, das ich aber nicht verstand... Trotzdem musste ich gehen... Also stand ich auf, obwohl ich nicht unfreundlich sein wollte. Da nickte er.
- “Ach, so!”
Ich stellte schnell einen meiner Fuesse gegen seinen und zog: er stand auf und laechelte, mehr als vorher, dieses mal offensichtlich zufrieden!
Jetzt wusste ich, dass ich gehen durfte.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jetzt, waehrend ich in der Dunkelheit liege, quaelt sich mein Vater darueber, dass ich alles verloren habe. Ich war mit so viel Hoffnung aufgebrochen, aber jetzt werde ich hier nur gepflegt, weil klar ist, dass es nicht mehr lange dauern wird. Aber wenn ich an diesen Tag denke, dann fuehle ich mich unsterblich, und ich habe keine Angst mehr.
Saturday, 9 January 2010
Friday, 8 January 2010
Guidavo a metà pomeriggio sulla strada deserta. I campi, ai lati della strada, bianchi puri di neve, impressionavano la materia grigia rinchiusa nella mia scatola cranica sino a tal punto da farmi credere di starci scivolando dolcemente, protetto, attraverso. Il vento freddo, polare, rappresentava, di fronte la corte, la mia giustificazione a non aprire il finestrino, in maniera tale da potermi respirare, come lentamente facevo, il 100% del fumo della mia sigaretta...
Sì, lentamente fumare, come d'estate quando,
da zio Umberto, nell'ora della siesta, quando
soltanto i grilli si udivan gracchiare,
sedendo sulla panchina, ai piedi dell'olmo
che stazionava di fronte alla casa padronale,
protettone dall'ombra,
ero solito aspettare.
da zio Umberto, nell'ora della siesta, quando
soltanto i grilli si udivan gracchiare,
sedendo sulla panchina, ai piedi dell'olmo
che stazionava di fronte alla casa padronale,
protettone dall'ombra,
ero solito aspettare.
- "La vita è come un dramma!" ripeteva sempre zio.
- "Come una piéce teatrale!", chiosando tra i denti, mormoravo io. Bastienne l'avevo conosciuta a Marseille, come imparai presto a pronunciare.
-"A Marsiglia??!!" ripetè sbalordito, ma anche già con un filo di orgoglio nel tono della voce, zio, quando gli resi noto che avevano scelto me. Anche se provenivo da una famiglia di contadini, qualcuno, nella mia famiglia, aveva pensato che fosse cosa buona e giusta che io frequentassi una scuola: giusto quel po' di educazione che non guasta, giusto per non sbagliarsi, dicevano umilmente - in verità, gli occhi dei miei brillavano al pensiero di me che, studiando.. Come dire.. Mettevo al sicuro dei moderni lumi scientifici quella che ormai ci eravamo abituati a chiamare la nostra "Azienda Agricola", e questa loro speranza, non so perchè, a me commuomeva.
Amando la vita che la mia famiglia conduceva, la vita mia!, fu naturale decidere di studiare agraria. E tutti furon' d'accordo.
E ora, ora che tutto questo bianco mi circondava, a questo punto della mia vita, Bastienne per me altro non era che un doloroso ricordo..
Ricordo quando spiegò che cosa fosse una piéce, a me che in teatro non ci ero stato mai. Ero da poco arrivato in città. Il mio neocoinquilino tedesco Bob, alto due metri e coi capelli biondi lisci e lunghi fino a metà schiena, mi aveva invitato a incontrarlo al cinema in fondo al corso per vedere un film di un neoqualcosista spagnolo in lingua originale; io avevo accettato di buon grado. Poi scoprì che quel corso di cinema ne aveva due: esattamente uno da capo e uno in fondo. Naturalmente io andai a quello sbagliato!
Saturday, 12 December 2009
Noch in der zweiten heiligen Woche
* * * * * * * PERSPEKTIVE I * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * PERSPEKTIVE II * * * * * * *
Sperrin Mountains
Departure at 12,30 (uhm, it's later than the last time, we're turning lazier and lazier..).
I haven't changed my sweater but none seems to realize it.
We're three, a friend of her has come to visit us. However, today she's leaving, and we're going to slowly sip other fascinating places of this land while inexorably approaching Belfast International Airport.
I'm going to drive. Headed towards the Sperrin Mountains, it's not long after that a CD of oneiric Russian music has finished playing that we drop out of the car.
It's all damp.
We hear a river, but we can't locate it.
We knew that a church should be somewhere around here, but it's out of our sight as well.
Scared firs are drawing back from the lying corpses of the cut ones, trying to avoid the infection..
Perhaps the church is under construction, we don't know, but for sure, if that's the case, it's going to be a Cathedral!
While I study how to take a photo of the blue sky reflected on the surface of a puddle, the girls set off on the climbing road in front of us
and so I decide to postpone the photo until the way back.
After we've been walking for about 15 minutes, a clearance on the right suggests us that perhaps it was a natural church. We can breath the holyness of the place. I put away the camera and we pray.
We pick up walking again. After a while, the wall of firs on the left is unexpectedly broken by a green road.
I feel like being in the middle of a motorway, with the only difference that all the cars've been cast away, like Adam and Eve from the paradise. Then she calls my name. I turn my head but I can't see her 'cause then the horn of a car blows up screaming loudly into my ears. I instinctively lift my shoulders up around my head and protract my hands out in a defensive attitude, I guess the car is approaching very fast, I didn't see it at all, and, Oh my God, where the hell's this car come from, here, in the middle of nothing? Shit, it's going to splatter my friends up with me and maybe I start shrieking, or maybe not, I don't know, but the horn's still there and then, then she reaches to my arm, she shakes me, Nicola you ok? I look towards the motorway but all the cars've been cast away, like somebody from somewhere, Nicola, what's up? The motorway is staring at me, I know that but you know what? How on the earth am I going to tell them? You're tired? Oh no, com'on, how can I possibly even think of it? Yes.. I mean, I mean I'm fine, I must've just slept not enough yesterday night, you know, I've seen that movie, probably you were right not seeing it, it must've impressed me so much, probably there was kind of a bird, it must've suddenly flight away out of nothing, out of some branch.. They all look like the same, these branches.. Chirping squeak, the bird, the thing, I mean it must've have chirped very squeak and yes, I shouldn't have driven all that way, you were right, but now, now I'm fine, now.. Can I have a sip of water?
At the base of the firs there are little, apparently sleeping beings. I brace myself and, taking a breath as big as possible, on tiptoe I get silently closer to them, trying not to let them understand my edginess.
I can't find out, but it seems all fine. A breath of relief.
We pick up walking again.
At a certain point the road branches off. Straight ahead we could keep climbing.
But the top, being too far away, disheartens our faint hopes.
We turn left, better to remain on the flat.
Our friend has to pee. We wait further ahead. In the meanwhile I glance at the wood around us. A slight sinister scene shows at my feet. A majestic tree has been unseated from its grasp to the ground and then covered by alive and growing green cobweb.
Other trees, being covered by the same sort of cobweb, but still on their feet, frame a picture of time, backward-like.
Not long afterwards we decide that the curch won't show up any more, definitely, even though, actually, it was already out of our thoughts since long. Now it's my turn to pee. I tell my company to go ahead, I am going to reach them soon.
While I pee it starts raining. I pull up the hood. I enter a different place.
The sound of the drops on the hood is the anchor that keeps me clung to the world..
A shiver runs down my spine. I set off too. Better to reach soon the company.
On the right I notice fallen trunks..
I have the impression as if earlier they were not there.. Hm, the girls must be behind the bump of the road. I quicken my step.
After I've reached the top, I acknowledge the fact they're not there. It didn't take me so long to pee, but.. But yeah, probably I got lost into my thoughts longer than I thought, all this story is making me crazy, ok, but I notice something, what's that? Yes.. No, it's not a spider, it's just a thin shadow that is slowing climbing up along my legs, yes, but what is moving then? And then I hear the hiss and I make a step to the right but it's the wrong direction 'cause just behind me a thud like a lightning makes me jump!
A big tree fallen just so close to me!! Now I'm sure, something is chasing me! The idea of them going around just behind my hood as I was peeing there makes me shiver even more. I start running!
I run, I run,
but my friends
don't show up!
I run, I run,
and the rain comes back,
to slow my pace,
to make me wept.
Still no trace of my company,
but I'm sure,
something is chasing me!
I can't see it,
it must be hiding in the wood,
it must be following me
from behind the trees!
Have they already catched my friends? The only chance that I have is to run away from here and hope that they are at the bottom of the path, maybe they have already called for help, if they won't be there, I'll call the police, my mobile has to be with me, I try to find it by touch, I can't but it does not shock me at most,
what does shock me
is what I see:
I haven't changed my sweater but none seems to realize it.
We're three, a friend of her has come to visit us. However, today she's leaving, and we're going to slowly sip other fascinating places of this land while inexorably approaching Belfast International Airport.
I'm going to drive. Headed towards the Sperrin Mountains, it's not long after that a CD of oneiric Russian music has finished playing that we drop out of the car.
It's all damp.
We hear a river, but we can't locate it.
We knew that a church should be somewhere around here, but it's out of our sight as well.
Scared firs are drawing back from the lying corpses of the cut ones, trying to avoid the infection..
Perhaps the church is under construction, we don't know, but for sure, if that's the case, it's going to be a Cathedral!
While I study how to take a photo of the blue sky reflected on the surface of a puddle, the girls set off on the climbing road in front of us
and so I decide to postpone the photo until the way back.
After we've been walking for about 15 minutes, a clearance on the right suggests us that perhaps it was a natural church. We can breath the holyness of the place. I put away the camera and we pray.
We pick up walking again. After a while, the wall of firs on the left is unexpectedly broken by a green road.
I feel like being in the middle of a motorway, with the only difference that all the cars've been cast away, like Adam and Eve from the paradise. Then she calls my name. I turn my head but I can't see her 'cause then the horn of a car blows up screaming loudly into my ears. I instinctively lift my shoulders up around my head and protract my hands out in a defensive attitude, I guess the car is approaching very fast, I didn't see it at all, and, Oh my God, where the hell's this car come from, here, in the middle of nothing? Shit, it's going to splatter my friends up with me and maybe I start shrieking, or maybe not, I don't know, but the horn's still there and then, then she reaches to my arm, she shakes me, Nicola you ok? I look towards the motorway but all the cars've been cast away, like somebody from somewhere, Nicola, what's up? The motorway is staring at me, I know that but you know what? How on the earth am I going to tell them? You're tired? Oh no, com'on, how can I possibly even think of it? Yes.. I mean, I mean I'm fine, I must've just slept not enough yesterday night, you know, I've seen that movie, probably you were right not seeing it, it must've impressed me so much, probably there was kind of a bird, it must've suddenly flight away out of nothing, out of some branch.. They all look like the same, these branches.. Chirping squeak, the bird, the thing, I mean it must've have chirped very squeak and yes, I shouldn't have driven all that way, you were right, but now, now I'm fine, now.. Can I have a sip of water?
At the base of the firs there are little, apparently sleeping beings. I brace myself and, taking a breath as big as possible, on tiptoe I get silently closer to them, trying not to let them understand my edginess.
I can't find out, but it seems all fine. A breath of relief.
We pick up walking again.
At a certain point the road branches off. Straight ahead we could keep climbing.
But the top, being too far away, disheartens our faint hopes.
We turn left, better to remain on the flat.
Our friend has to pee. We wait further ahead. In the meanwhile I glance at the wood around us. A slight sinister scene shows at my feet. A majestic tree has been unseated from its grasp to the ground and then covered by alive and growing green cobweb.
Other trees, being covered by the same sort of cobweb, but still on their feet, frame a picture of time, backward-like.
Not long afterwards we decide that the curch won't show up any more, definitely, even though, actually, it was already out of our thoughts since long. Now it's my turn to pee. I tell my company to go ahead, I am going to reach them soon.
While I pee it starts raining. I pull up the hood. I enter a different place.
The sound of the drops on the hood is the anchor that keeps me clung to the world..
A shiver runs down my spine. I set off too. Better to reach soon the company.
On the right I notice fallen trunks..
I have the impression as if earlier they were not there.. Hm, the girls must be behind the bump of the road. I quicken my step.
After I've reached the top, I acknowledge the fact they're not there. It didn't take me so long to pee, but.. But yeah, probably I got lost into my thoughts longer than I thought, all this story is making me crazy, ok, but I notice something, what's that? Yes.. No, it's not a spider, it's just a thin shadow that is slowing climbing up along my legs, yes, but what is moving then? And then I hear the hiss and I make a step to the right but it's the wrong direction 'cause just behind me a thud like a lightning makes me jump!
A big tree fallen just so close to me!! Now I'm sure, something is chasing me! The idea of them going around just behind my hood as I was peeing there makes me shiver even more. I start running!
I run, I run,
but my friends
don't show up!
I run, I run,
and the rain comes back,
to slow my pace,
to make me wept.
Still no trace of my company,
but I'm sure,
something is chasing me!
I can't see it,
it must be hiding in the wood,
it must be following me
from behind the trees!
Have they already catched my friends? The only chance that I have is to run away from here and hope that they are at the bottom of the path, maybe they have already called for help, if they won't be there, I'll call the police, my mobile has to be with me, I try to find it by touch, I can't but it does not shock me at most,
what does shock me
is what I see:
the motorway's been completely dried up! What's this? That's not possible at all! Maybe.. Have we ended up in a top secret military zone? Will a start coughing? Are they using some special gas? Testing any virus?? The allucination that I've got earlier! Oh my God, the allucination is the proof of it.. Will I be able to keep running? No, I won't: the ground is slippery like the bottom of the see
and I fall indeed.
And all I can see
it's an iced cobweb
Iced cobweb waiting for me.
Welcoming me.
Receiving me.
Keeping me
My body
It keeps my body and it keeps my soul as well:
I become small like an ant
and start going around,
behind this branch,
on top of that leave,
astonished,
amused,
until I see
until I see something which terrifies me:
the little beings,
the apparently sleeping beings,
have multiplied,
moved to one side,
and now,
like hot lava
they are swarming towards me!
What the Hell is this? Are they poisoning spiders? Poisoning spiders about to their birth?
The mountain must be doomed, all this place must be doomed, yes, it is definitely doomed, and the spiders are the fruit of it. They must've been created together with some toxic fumes.. I must've been inhaling them.. And now they're getting me!!!
Then I automatically try to flee, but my body is trapped, the cobweb is preventing my escape, the cobweb is keeping me!
But when I, desperate, close my eyes, and wait just for my death, then something soft grabs gently my hand, and lifts me up: it's them!
They were not evil! A solid joy floods inside my hearth.. And we're flying, I can't believe! They nod upwards: I look up and tracks are there, majestic like trees
We're travelling on them, and then they point aside, towards a small distant white dot: I can recognize, after a while, that it's a plane, and then I can't believe, it's like with a periscope, our friend I can see! But then.. Where is SHE? I turn around and they're gone, but I'm lying on my bed, and she's staring at me.
Where are we?
Dear, you've been sleeping for ten hours and now you've just woken up. You were struggling and talking a lot as well, but now, my dear, don't worry, now it's going to be fine: the medecine is working out, tomorrow you'll be back on your tracks,
tomorrow it'll be a nice day,
sunny,
without bad dreams!
Sunday, 6 December 2009
Thursday, 3 December 2009
Il bagno di sera
Sono in posizione distesa nella vasca. La luce è stata spenta. In compenso due lumicini, un gesto di privata umanità.. Le mie gambe emergono sinuose dall'acqua come il corpo di quei dinosauri con il collo allungato.. Il riscaldamento spento rende l'evaporazione dell'acqua ancora più intensa, la scena ancora più suggestiva. Di fronte, il tubo dell'ossigeno non si avvicina più a me, bensì è stato riappeso, in alto, in posizione di riposo: ormai non c'è più speranza. Mi hanno lasciato a morire solo, così.. L'unica cosa che mi viene in mente è di masturbarmi.. Mi immagino differente, con la pelle morbidamente lucida, attraente.. Le forme rotonde.. In mezzo a persone molto diverse da me... Spogliandomi provo un senso di vergogna misto ad eccitazione, l'eccitazione dei loro sguardi.. Il contatto dei corpi.. Il contatto dei corpi aumenta la vergogna, ma la scintilla del piacere viene presto in soccorso.. Il piacere aumenta fino a quando non provo più nessuna inibizione... Aumenta.. E aumenta.. E aumenta... E poi, dopo, non mi lascia subito, no, non mi lascia subito, piuttosto evapora, sì, il piacere, semplicemente, evapora, piano piano, come le bollicine di una bibita gassata che, dopo essere stata agitata e aperta e, per questo, subitaneamente fuoriuscita con gran fervore dal tappo, lentamente emergono dal fondo della bottiglia per esplodere dolcemente sulla superficie del mondo, il loro mondo, il non loro mondo..
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