23 vs 33 (english vers.)

I talk to my 23-year-old self a lot lately; there are many similarities for many things and it is even more bizarre, because they were exactly ten years ago.

I remember how at 23 I was tired of so many things, I wanted to leave, I felt bad here, I was in pain.

The main reason was a girl at the time. With whom I had quarreled several times and with whom there was not the slightest hope of recovering any relationship.

What’s more, the real reason why I began to hate Lamezia was precisely that: the quarrels with her, even in public, and then many people everywhere came to piss me off, to make fun of, even people who weren’t purely bullies, in short.

Too many people knew too much, it was a side effect, of course, but it was one of the damages she couldn’t calculate, and neither could I, in fact…

But seriously it was really surreal, strange: even as soon as I left the house, there were people passing by on motorbikes and saying something to me.

Back then I was already starting to go out less, to argue more even with friends, it was the right time to leave, I couldn’t stand being here any longer.

I remember arguing with my aunt who had been there for years, she rightly said it was irrational (although not like that), to go away without art or part.

I got angry, I threw the phone… for what reason?

The reason was that in any case I already felt the oppression of a city in which I was feeling terrible, combined with the “desire” to stop, to stop my needs. Because at the time going to Bologna was just the need to go and live in another context.

I had to leave, I risked dying here. (Not necessarily in the physical sense, of course, but in the sense of having my personality severely killed off).

And in fact, if one remembers today’s world well, today’s reality, it is easy to remember that even today, similar things have happened, with people who told me that I had to behave “as they said”.

And I know I was wrong, I know MAYBE I really should have done as they said, but I know you can’t tell people, me, how to behave.

I suppose my problem was really having a strong personality, and that anyone who didn’t understand how I was made, didn’t understand my thoughts and feelings, wanted in some way to “deprive” me of my freedom.

Regardless of whether or not someone is in good faith, it was unbearable for me to hear things like: “it’s not good how you do it, you have to do it this way”, just because they were more “socially” acceptable ways.

Things that, of course, have contributed to making me hate this company: you only go well with certain standards, it doesn’t matter if you’re different.

I’m too sincere and natural to pretend, I tried, but then every time I can’t stand it, and I have to go back to being myself, it’s really stronger than me, even if it’s always ME the person we’re talking about.

In the end I ran away, but I remember that at the age of 23, I wanted to stay in Calabria, in reality, I went to the University of Cosenza, and I remember that I was fine…

How many things have changed.

And today, as I said yesterday, I want to go, but I’m not the same person as yesterday who simply wanted to “escape”, but to find another me that I left there, my most beautiful version, which seems to wander like a spirit through the streets of Bolo, without my body.

I can’t honestly tell you how the fuck the situation was, I can’t tell you if it was precisely an obsession, for one person.

The truth is that I wasn’t obsessed with Valentina, a person I kept thinking about for years, because I remembered it, every time I felt good in Bologna, in every moment of happiness I remembered what had been the origin of everything.

So how to say? It’s not that I remembered her because I was still in love or something with her, but to constantly remind myself of the 23-year-old me, in that year of being more lost than ever, I was no longer one with a check.

And that’s how for years I was afraid of many things, like love, or that something similar would happen again.

I was afraid to go back to Lamezia, I was afraid of suffering, of the pain caused by an environment in which in the end I never really felt like a part of it.

I feel more like the Bolognese where I lived for several years, more of feeling like Lametino, the city where I was born and raised, yes…but raised how?

I have matured more in Bolo than here, where to be honest, you all always seem to be in an impenetrable bubble, stuck in the convictions of a life that no longer exists, I scream to tell you that …

Now that I think about it, 20 is over.

The 30s started a while ago, and now there is greater awareness, but there is always the same desire to live as before, indeed, for certain things even stronger.

I can’t stand the closed-mindedness of this place, and maybe I’ll be presumptuous, but… really, I seem to be the only one who considers other points of view, alternatives, to see beyond “black and white”, and it makes me laugh, because at 28 they told me it was me doing it.

Have I really changed? Maybe I’ve always been the same. Today at 33 I still think about a person who in many ways had similarities with Valentina.


sometimes I believe that fate or God “but put it” in my path (as much as I doubt the aforementioned), to make me reappear at that myself of 23, which I had avoided thinking about. I was ashamed, I was afraid to remember it, because I thought I had only caused suffering, but…

but now, thanks to what happened I know that DESPITE APPEARANCES; in a situation, in a quarrel there is never a person who is wrong.

Since like Valentina, she behaved the same way, as too many people do by now, and I know it doesn’t just happen to me, when you can’t make yourself heard, make yourself understood.

I’m really a “hunchback”, I too found guilty even before a judgment is given: popular opinion has already condemned me, and since “the victim” is a (beautiful) woman, it’s over for “the bad ogre- rapist”.

Exactly, called in really bad ways, without my having ever done it, therefore based on nothing, on facts THAT DO NOT EXIST.

What are we talking about, after all? Who is really the victim here?

So in what sense did fate do what it “should” do? Because in the future-present I understood many things about the past.

It seems I “found” her and fell in love to (somehow) absolve the former self.

And today, loving me, basically.

As much as I find it unbearable to have been defined in ways that I am not.

(Among other things here between denunciation and denunciation, I should have done it to you for defamation, since you have so conveniently defined my person with epithets of people who commit very, VERY SERIOUS crimes. I’m not so sure that the victory would be been so obvious on your part, as you have always defined. But it is clear that it is always the “bad ogre” who loses).

Yes, I’m the bad guy today and yesterday.

I’m not saying I was wrong, nor do I want to place myself “above” something or someone.

I suppose that if someone (even if compared to the vast majority of people I’ve known in my entire life is still a very small minority, as a result), felt bad about me, I could never say I had no responsibility.

However, I have always acted, as they say, “in good faith”. I think I have touched negative points in the hearts, in the heads, in the so-called “minds” of certain people, without ever realizing it, and obviously, however much they have “TRIED” (but even here it’s funny, because instead of explaining, they accuse), a explain it to me, I know I haven’t understood, precisely because contact, rational confrontation has been denied.

That is, after all these quarrels, it’s not like I really understood the alleged or substantial harm that I have done.

As happened to the 23, even today the same thing: advice, opinions, people who had to “protect me or the other” from (in the end), the inevitable evils of life.

It was all contaminated, and well, I understood practically nothing, and I laugh, again, because thinking about it, they all seemed so convinced that they understood, and that they could teach me.

Well they failed.

And I laugh again, because I understand that no one has ever been rational, that at best I am, now, detached, no longer emotionally involved as before, to understand… what I can.

I have limits, obviously human, that don’t allow me to understand. For this we need a real confrontation and not just outrage, outbursts, or pointing fingers.

Fear is the thing that most influences our decisions, but it shouldn’t, because it only causes evil, and in fact it is never reasoned.

My fear, fear of Vale, of Stef… Fears. The things we run from, yes, but where?

The only difference is that we didn’t argue live today… and therefore I was spared a bit of disturbance from unknown people and I can get around the city “peacefully”.

I wonder if it’s a good thing, though, that we haven’t had a face-to-face confrontation, however aggressive it may have been.

It’s better that way? Or you may think that since we have phones and social networks, we have easier escape routes.

Block, “ghost”, ignore.

Are they really positive things, or… well, I’ll say it: are they cowardly things? What can you really understand only through messages, how does the other person feel?

To understand someone, you always have to look them straight in the eye, as they say in a movie: “Her eyes, Chico, never lie.”

And what I saw in the eyes is so different from what I read in the messages…

And therefore, today as then we suffer/suffered for love,

today as then, I want to leave.

Today, as then, I’m a little sorry to do it, but I have to.

Because alternatives, I don’t see any, by the way.

My mind seems to travel through time, it reminds me of the sensations of the time.

Instinctively I’m also slipping into resignation, because everything is never that simple.

What will be stronger and faster? Time or fate? Now very few things can change the situation.

In the end if destiny  ever exist, it will only put me in the place, and situations that have always been mine.

I felt emotions even before living the situations, sometimes it seems you can know what will happen, because you calculate the possibilities, and not because I have the power to predict the future, in short.

Am I the same? After 10 years so many things seem to have remained the same.

23 vs. 33,

and many things have changed.



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