Key Genius's Blog, page 120
January 31, 2017
January 30, 2017
#HeartofFlesh (Chapter 18- Liquid Memory)
Andrea is stretched out in the bedroom that he had shared
with Barbara as a child.
Surrounded by 45 and 33 rpm vinyl records, his
parents’ CDs, photo albums and a million memories that float in the air like an
oppressive blanket, he wonders just how he had started to hurt himself so much.
He lies down on the floor and runs his hands across
his wet face.
“What was I thinking?” he chides himself. “Idiot!”
He turns onto his side and rolls up into a ball.
He had only needed to sort the bedroom out for Barbara,
who will leave the hospital in two days. But, on finding an old suitcase record
player, no doubt his grandparents’, he had been taken by curiosity and opened
it up.
It still works; after plugging it in, he only had to
move a lever to release the arm and stylus, pull it towards him until he heard
a clack, and the turntable started to turn.
So he had looked for the records, finding some in a big
box in the wall closet.
There were not many, about thirty, but they’re
historic in every sense. The sleeves, worn at the edges, smell of wood and
lavender. He remembers that his grandmother put lavender everywhere. The discs
smell of caramel flavored plastic with a slight hint of metal. Maybe the
scrolling stylus had released that extraordinary aroma over time.
The records are mostly by Italian singers that he has
never heard of, but there are also some famous names, like Morandi and Celentano.
He knows them from seeing them on several television programs, even if only
briefly.
But the surprise is finding foreign groups like Talking
Heads and Joy Division, who unlock memories of Susanna and when she had played
him one of their songs at the swings.
And now, song after song, photo after photo, family
memories are rekindled, overwhelming him. The summers and Christmases here in
Clusone, as well as all the trips and vacations they had spent together as children.
At the mercy of a wave of nostalgia and loaded with
regrets, Andrea feels like a castaway, washed up on the beach after a long
swim: exhausted and in shock.
And the same question goes round in his mind: why was
I the one spared?
The tragic accident was only a month and a half ago,
but he has already changed a lot. And his life, too. Now, he has Barbara to take
care of. Her leg will be in plaster for several months and she will have the
splint on her right arm, so won’t be very self-sufficient.
He wonders whether he will be up to the task, but tells
himself that he has to be. There are no excuses. She’s his sister and he wants
to demonstrate that he can look after her. By doing so, Barbara will hopefully decide
to stay with him from September and not go to live with his uncle. She is his family
now and he wants them to be together under the same roof.
The record ends and the needle tickles the paper.
Andrea rouses himself and takes the disc off the
turntable. He puts it back in its sleeve and, with incredible effort, lifts
himself up off the floor. He has to put everything away again, but not now,
though.
He isn’t up to it.
“It’s a no day,” he whispers to
himself.
Thanks to Susanna, he hasn’t had many of them lately. The
depression only comes when he finds himself alone, like now, and thinks too
much.
When his memory becomes liquid and flows through his
brain like a flooded river.
He hates it happening, but can’t do anything about it.
Maybe it’s normal.
He’s experiencing another moment of “perfect
chaos”, as Ian calls it. He hasn’t heard from him since that day and
wonders why he had insisted on having his phone number.
He shrugs, not really caring that much. The important
thing is that Susanna has her chance. He wants her to achieve her dream and
he’s a part of it now. It’s also thanks to him that the novel is going so well:
Susanna keeps telling him that.
Andrea senses his chaos calm down a little.
Poto arrives suddenly and rubs himself along his leg.
“It’s food time, right?” he smiles, grabbing
and stroking him.
He’s Andrea’s most reliable clock. They sleep and eat
together, so he doesn’t risk skipping meals. But he really isn’t hungry tonight.
Ian #DontBoxMeIn (cp25- Colle Fiorito – La vendemmia verde dei ragazzi)
«La verità fa male…» ripeto pensandoci un attimo.
«Le bugie fanno vivere meglio le persone, ma a discapito comunque di qualcuno.»
«Quelle a fin di bene, no.»
«Ho capito. Però, è strano, non trovi? Le persone
preferiscono circondarsi di false speranze, d’illusioni e di bugiardi quando la
verità li metterebbe davanti alla realtà dei loro limiti. Limiti che potrebbero
superare, ma che preferisco ignorare. Perché?»
Lei abbassa lo sguardo e scuote il capo. Io mi
alzo e vado al muretto di pietra per osservare la vigna.
«Forse non tutti vogliono conoscere i propri
limiti» le dico girandomi solo un attimo.
«Forse» annuisce lei sempre con la testa china.
«Giulia, anche tu sei così?»
Lei solleva lo sguardo di colpo e mi guarda
duramente. «Non giudicarmi! Tu non sai com’è la vita vera. Sei troppo giovane e
vivi di teorie. Arriva a trent’anni come me e poi ne riparliamo.»
«Perdonami, Giulia» le dico perché sento di averla
offesa, proprio come la verità dentro le mie parole.
Ora vedo i miei limiti. Per vivere nel mondo devo
maturare. Anzi, no. Devo diradarmi
degli assoluti che intuisco essere troppo estremi. Devo filtrare le mie idee.
È come la vendemmia
verde che facciamo tutti gli anni in luglio. Togliamo alcuni grappoli
ancora acerbi dalla vite per permettere alle piante di nutrire solo i frutti
migliori.
Esiste dunque una vendemmia verde per i ragazzi
come me; una fase in cui dobbiamo abbandonare alcuni lati del nostro carattere
in favore di altri per meglio relazionarci con gli altri in futuro.
È frustrante, ma lo farò.
iheartbinbons:On my way to @sagawards in my @burberry tux!...
On my way to @sagawards in my @burberry tux! #excited to see the #Westworld clan!
#benbarnes #burberry #fashion #westworld #sagawards
#benbarnes #sagawards #fashion
#benbarnes #sagawards #fashion
