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lavoro pubblicato sabato 12 novembre 2011
ultima lettura venerdì 27 novembre 2020

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The dark cave of eternal night

di Lolu. Letto 1079 volte. Dallo scaffale Straniera

  There are special moments during a rainy day of October in which destiny seems stubbornly against you.  You don't really understand what you could be blamed for, but it is as if suddenly a concentrated amount of  misfortune enjoy bothe.....

There are special moments during a rainy day of October in which destiny seems stubbornly against you.

You don't really understand what you could be blamed for, but it is as if suddenly a concentrated amount of misfortune enjoy bothering you.

In these moments a natural feeling of victimization embraces you. ..... You feel as if you have some reason to blame god.

There are other moments during the same rainy day, on which this same adverse fate seems less like the result of unpredictable bad luck and instead has a precise face which is frighteningly like our. These are the moments in which we should all learn to curse ourselves and not an abstract god. If we didn't have the strength to curse ourselves then we should find at least the dignity to face a mirror and shout
"I am an idiot".


These are the thoughts crossing my mind when the lights of the modern glass elevator went out, preventing me from to staring at myself in the immense mirror placed on the metal wall of the lift.... Nevertheless I knew that this was certainly one of those situations where I could only blame myself.

I am an idiot...If we wanted to be precise I am an idiot stuck in a dark lift, hanging powerlessly at the 14th floor of a building in the centre of Milan. In the darkness of the elevator I can only sit and observe, fascinated, the city during this sudden black out. It is surprising to realize that a city without its light is nothing more than a concrete jungle.


I should have stayed at home.. I didn't feel like coming anyway.. Doing stuff when you are forced is always counterproductive. ... I felt like a mouse grabbed by a giant hand left helplessly hanging by its tail between the Duomo's pinnacles.

There is always a punishment round the corner when you do things to please someone else. Some sort of mockery arranged by your other self. The self that just wanted to stay home and relax...

Well.. It is ok to me. After all, there was no real reason to come here in the first place... even the lifts mirror had noticed that I wasn't feeling at ease dressed like this. The shop assistant had said that this showy yellow shirt was the latest fashion.... The mirror had understood that I felt more like the latest chicken.... After all, sitting still in this modern cave of glass, I hated myself a little less... and after all in front of me rested peacefully the strange city of Milan.

Waiting for someone to come and rescue me I dwelled upon this unusual view. I was daydreaming rather than observing really.. the "lightless" city had lost any sort of familiar face.

"They will be certainly here in no time to save me, "I thought to myself.

The interesting question in this sort of situation is, who exactly are "they"?

Unable to answer my question I glance defeatingly at the unfamiliar blocks of concrete. After a few seconds of observation my eyes start to recognize some spots in the gloomy city.

Far in the distance I see the tower in Garibaldi square which was being built. It's silhouette stood bravely against the starless sky. Stars cannot be seen above cities like Milan. Id heard on the news that this was because of pollution but I don't think that this can be the explaination. I think that stars know that their guiding glow would be wasted upon the busy streets of the city. No one really has the time to lift their nose dreamily towards the sky. Everyone is too absorbed in themselves. And... and


And I knew I had to stay at home tonight. Never ignore your instincts or you end up in a giant glass jar dressed in a yellowy chicken like shirt... argh..

Why did I give in the first place? Was it really my friends insistence? Was I really persuaded by a some idiotic claim such as: "come it will be great fun!" or " just wait and see how cool this new bar is"

No .. it wasn't. I'm not the kind of person who can be convinced once I have taken a decision.

It was something else. It must have been something else...

(thoughtful silence)

In this cage I see a city in which I have lived for in the last twenty years, stripped from any sort of familiarity. In this moment I could be in Los Angeles, I could be in London or I could be in Teheran.

It is a very odd feeling to feel lost in the neighborhood in which you have grown, not something you would want to feel. I feel that in this moment I am free from any type of obligation. In a the night I have temporarily lost any reference. I have slipped into the night of uncertainties. A very unusual sensation for a human used to bathing in the light of absolute conviction.

Being free from any sort of reference is a frighteningly seductive idea. In the darkness of my cave, trapped on the 14th floor of a building I felt free. A situation which for any rational mind is a moment of powerlessness seemed to be a moment of true inspiration for me.

No,it is not about the buildings. It is not about being able to track down a pizza place or being able to find your favorite shoe shop. It is not about this.

Being trapped above a city paralyzed by a black out is a pretty enlightening.... It is like being able to see yourself through the eyes of the mirror.

Being able to look at your life from "without" must be the symptom of some sort of illness. If our life's beliefs are constructed in what is after all, little more than a neighborhood of concrete certainties, then we should seriously consider a demolition.

Could an existence permeated in doubt result in a fuller life? Could the menacing concrete, certainties that I have patiently erected during a life time be a limit, a prison and not a point from which face the challenges of experience?

I don't know. I don't know. What I do know is that lights in this neighborhood are returning. At first timidly as if scared from the sudden irruption of darkness, then growingly confident caressing again the cold wall of the city. The light is back and the thoughts that crowded my head just a few minutes early now seem distant and foggy.

Now I am standing up in the glass elevator. My cage, my cave, is now blessed with light. I should be grateful and free from any doubt. The moment has come for me to press the button for the ground floor and return to my comfortable home but somehow I can't find the strength the escape. I remain dazed and numb, incapable of any action. Was it possible that in the obscurity of the blackout I had been able to have a better look upon my current situation? Could I see better in the dark than in the light?


No. I am not going to allow myself to fall back into the blind world of certainties. This time I heading straight up, above my certainties and towards my doubts.

I press the button for the roof.


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