MY LIFE AS A STUDENT

Every time I find myself in a new place or even if I just wander around I start to scan the places and imagine what it would be like to live there as a bum. So I look for corners to shelter, where I could escape the elements, ways to get food, money or clothes, possible companies and I analyze, weighing how hard it can be, I study the movements of those who already lead this life. I have lived in Palermo for most of my life, it is a city full of people, sunny for most of the year, one of the most trampled by tourists in the world, perfect for life as a stray. And vagrants (it’s not a sarcastic joke) is full of them. I have lived for quite some time near the BALLARÒ market district so I have really seen many, many, everyone has their own style, everyone has their habits, each their dignity and even the pet can vary, too in Milan, in the Cenisio area, a vagabond had a beautiful rooster as a pet, enviably kept, well fed, beautiful shiny, proud, you went shopping and found him in front of the supermarket wandering with his head held high. Seeing some of them made your heart cry, while others, it seems ugly to say, made you hate the life of a privileged student. There were days that I met one under the house, he was always on the bench and sometimes I stopped to exchange a few words and he spoke in dialect and I gave him my best drawings because they were more precious to me than money. Then sometimes I would bring him some hot food cooked by me, typical things of my country. He was fine, calm, serene, he talked about math and plants and he knew about it and I went to the Ethiopian shop on the corner and bought him some colorful blankets, some sweaters and some flowers because I wanted to cheer him up. He didn’t want to live in the dorm. A wandering woman, on the other hand, was sad, she was always sleeping at the station, alone, downcast, I think she was actually a woman who had lost her job and always carried a suitcase with her, with everything she owned inside I suppose. I saw her every morning and I very much hoped she would get away from there, I was afraid they would beat her. When I saw her sleeping, I left her a plastic container with hot food. I had a house, or rather a room, tiny but for me it was a lot. I led a life where the only time I expected was the night to study in silence. I didn’t know who ate and dressed in style and I wondered what it would be like to take courage in both hands and stop the life that I had never wanted, not even imagined and give up everything, be left with nothing.

I DIDN’T KNOW REALITY

I have lived for half of my life in my art world. Then I got out and discovered reality. Unfortunately for me, not knowing the rules, I didn’t know how to behave, so I was always spontaneous, sincere, without ulterior motives. Instead I had to learn that reality is artificial and that people are almost always constructed and false. I had to suffer criticism because I am too “sociable, open, convivial, affectionate ..” Think about how a person who always has everything with his heart and hears certain things can be. So they explained to me that I have to follow certain behaviors to be accepted by people, people who are all cold, detached, always with a mask and not at all spontaneous. I refused, rather I am alone with my dog ​​and my books. We wrote, sang and danced and the inevitability of the black future was tangible. We looked too far away. We didn’t touch a drop, no substance but our minds were so full of things that we were unstoppable and unstoppable. At night we wandered into philosophical discussions and our intent was not to explain things but to express our experiences. We went to the most unknown alleys of Palermo, wandering in search of wonderfully unknown corners. We sighed as if we were in love with the air itself. How can one continue to live after having touched eternity? How can we expect a future that was invisible to us? We were our infinity.

I HAVEN’T SEEN “LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL”

I have not seen “Life is beautiful”. And I have not seen “The boy in the striped pajamas”. Do you know why? After seeing “Shindler’s List” I was sick for 3 months. I was in Palermo. I went to Zen and left there all my books, my jewels, my paintings, my clothes, everything I owned. I’ve never told anyone. I managed to get into Zen because I was dressed like a gypsy (they control everything). When I was a little girl and I saw a movie “Amazonia” during the break I went out of the cinema, went to a shop, bought some make-up, went back to the cinema, went to the bathroom and put on my make-up like an Indios. At the end of the film everyone was looking at me as if they had seen an alien. I lay badly for months and months. I wrote desperate letters to the president of Brazil, I wrote to the Pope, many letters that have never been answered. Certain films, about certain truths, make me snap something, and I risk my life. I do absurd things. After seeing “American Sniper” I bought a ticket for Iraq and had to leave. Except that I have health problems and my doctor told me that I would go to die without my drugs. I cannot know of some suffering otherwise I feel too bad and do unthinkable things. When I was 4 they abused me for a long time, and so I know what it feels like when you get great pain. It’s not up to me, I can’t get rid of it.

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