So the queen of the golden age of loneliness ate from the dish of the day 
Approaching the building, I felt growing inside of me I do not know what feeling of terror. The streets, the voices, faces, everything takes a sudden appearance in the lead suspect and left the usual symbol of horror films. If I was not hysterical tendency, it would have had to worry about, but simply went on giving a blow to the head as if to say "stupid is not it time for imaginations!" The door was open. There was a great coming and going of people, probably one of those moving companies. REMOVAL ... For a number of free association, I shuddered thinking of the word. I took the stairs and I saw him here, shorts and a T-shirt to cover that large bust of him still as a kid, but still ... He looked shabby and greyish that would frighten anyone, but I had seen worse. I stopped. He, too, shaking with a nervous gesture black trash bag and the other hand if the hand through his hair. He clenched his teeth and looked me straight in the eye. Oh, I could not, I could not look into his eyes for so long, human nature is such that he will never see the beauty in the eye, always look in the wrong place to look for what you do not want to find, since only one appeared it throws into turmoil the most complete, to be so small, so selfish, so incapable. When we find it, everything is the opposite of all our nights become days, and the desperate hope the joys and anguish of the end for his farewell. And then we stop to envy the artists, who have rocked the terrible queen, those who possess it, teach it, hold it captive, keep it day and night, never tired and never gave up there in front of where the bars have closed the essence of their existence, saddened but never repented, because they want it, want it at all costs. Until it sells, and then you open up the dull prison of a land suit and exploding horizons in unison as their bodies are joined shouting Hallelujah white ... and no God, or Krishna, or Buddha, or Jehovah never divide, what the crowds will have merged. There will never even the veiled mother, who feeds the flowers along the river of death.
And Paul, as if he had caught my squalid shame, my sickly surrender, he said angrily, taking down the stairs:
"What are you doing here?"
He was everything I wanted to be. The true artist. He knew that I would not have responded. He knew it like me, some things are so and others may change, and I hated for them and for others. Paul knew, as I knew, too, that in winter the sun sets very early, then if the night seems too long and dark, it just means you're on the wrong side of the Earth.
"I'm going to empty the garbage" - said at the bottom of the stairs and disappeared out the door. After two more flights of stairs before I arrived at his door and sat on the floor.
Sometimes it really seemed like being on the wrong side of the earth, indeed, the universe! Here, sometimes in the morning, before leaving the house, nervously around me in the small hallway, like a poor sperm ready to be spat out . Out there ... What I actually created out there? They still my creatures suffered ridicule for their perverse nature, complex and bizarre? Sometimes it seemed to me a universe out there, "demented" (in the literal sense of the word) full of annoying creatures psychologically neutral vessel filled only during the life of advertising material. Small creators slaves of their creations, armies and armies of subjects, drafts of some kind of pure subjects in distant universes. And I, I will always be there to feel part of a vacuum still undiscovered, and there were no roads for someone like me, there was no parking, no schools, no suitable institutions. So some mornings I used to tremble and the only thing I wanted was to return to the darkness of my room ... Sleep, morphine paradise for people to live with evil. But my god holy blue-bellied convulsive was always excited, always ecstatic erections for the sacred mysteries of life, and here I shot out there!
Paul came back and watched me leaning against the railing. I awoke from dreams do not know what I threw the look which made him even smile. Oh god divine excited, now if you throw me in his arms, because that smile is the only light that my eyes are not yet used. But as usual, I stood rubbing the skin of the leg. The tan was disappearing floor. He always said with that smile:
"What are you doing out here?" leave me with a rush and I got up to the usual hype going towards the stairs.
"You said it twice, that we do, we do ... Ok I'll go if it gives you so much trouble"
He came to the door and pushed her with two fingers.
"was open" - he said quietly, "you could enter here, that's all."
And I felt small again, off-site front of his noble calm (I confess that many times I try to imitate him) in front of quell'insignificante hand gesture that I do not know what other point of schizophrenia appeared to me divine Orpheus pushing the door of his home, inviting her Executioner to enjoy the depth of thought (one day I said, not the disease, you've condemned to the most terrible evil ...) the meaning of the sigh of an unknown to the world's largest immensely because of it.
"I hate you when you make the gods ok Do not make me feel small" - I said. He laughed out loud this time. Had already entered and put a pair of slippers worn, enjoyed yet another of my delirium.
"Listen lady, now entering. What want, that makes you feel great? I'm almost twice your age
"Sometimes you look like a baby instead '- I went tenendogli the muzzle.
that apartment was as the home of a happy ghost. Paul and his former shoe traveler, Paul and his carpet dirty swamp in the middle of the magic of the metropolis, Paul and postcards of the trips ever made, Paul and the bed of insomnia, Paul and his absence.
"And on, on say something!"
"How are you?"
" Then you come here to ask me how I am? "
Yes, sometimes we hurry to get down to it, then here, unplug everything and go to sleep. But this is hopeless. It may be that the man has one thousand ambitions and many fears, but not in haste, as a sure nobody will be able to remove it, the certainty that sooner or later will fall sick in bed or on the sidewalk or along the tracks of a train, or on the bank of a river, and will what it is intended to participate in silent universal matrix. I wanted to tell him that I had missed, and squeeze in a big hug.
"So let me guess. Someone has messed up your pace again, damn the (poor ignorant) has trampled the margin line, went outside the square of your absurd world. I was disappointed, disillusioned, disappointed! Oh that the world collapses because Eveline has raised the sails and he is stubborn and silent reflection in the sea! "
He performed in a loud voice in this farce as he tried to fix the few dirty dishes around the kitchen. I saw it as struggled to stay standing with my back. Perhaps fierce stomach pain plagued him but his face is not apparent in other than the usual sadness.
"It 's easy to disappoint Eveline. Hey, what?! Are you ill?! Sacrilege, no! Disappoint Eveline, be healthy and happy ..." exclaimed with fierce irony and fell exhausted on a chair with his eyes fixed on the floor. I went over and took his hands, I squeezed in the chest, and the force did not seem enough.
"That Charlie, here ..."
"Again this stupid game?"
"His last letter I read in complete immobility, in complete indifference, as if full of contempt. And 'this good? "
" When the young man will understand that you belong to? When you realize that you can never escape dall'Attimo? When you realize that you can never go back? Have you explained the meaning of this? There are streets with only the lane way, and then either go off the road with the risk of dying or go more towards the light, that is cruel but innocent until ... until you run out the last drop of petrol, the last breath and last word. Well then, then you stop ... "
" You know Paul, yesterday, just yesterday, unfortunately I read "Orpheus Emerged" by Kerouac. And I was so excited, yes he is stupid, just for a book ... "
" In your opinion, who then disappeared with Helen? By Paul or Michael? "
" Many times Paul, it seems that the book you know? "
" Reply on .. "- he said, trying not know what in the kitchen cabinets.
" You know Paul, I know and gone with Michael to contemplate the beauty of the sun. But when you read it you? "
"
"-whispered a fragment of the book." Ah yes, yes as no. Crudele sentimental and mendacious the Queen of the Golden Age. " He had an incredible memory
. At one time, the morning I repeated whole sections of novels or poems he had read the night before.
"Helen was not a liar ..."
"Yes, it was only complicated, I know ... "
Meanwhile she had prepared the coffee and handed me a cup. Soon would come the winter ... this thought flashed through my mind, clear, loud and clear as if someone had spoken to aloud. Only this thought and then nothing more than silence and the smell of coffee.
rang the intercom and Paul opened without asking who he was, now is not surprised about anything, now do not ask for much because, now had no most all applications for a time. I looked up and saw the spider walk. They stood majestic in their corners, sometimes annoyed our presence, sometimes indifferent. They were building the realms of painting, and we are there to stumble to grasp the meanings. As you have created a spider? What dreadful creature has arranged things in such a state? The grape as it appears from the void and become perfect, mature, full of sweet nectar? Well, I watched a grape on the kitchen table and I filled the whole mystery of creation. A sweet juicy pulp, covered with a tough skin, containing one or two hard-core. Different subjects, mix into each other in harmony to create the most infinite miracle. A grape ...
heard a knock and Paul went to open it. Frank appeared at the door. Paul made a gesture of impatience with his arms and walked towards me as if to say: "And him?"
"Do you know Frank?"
"No, if I do not owes money! "- returned to the table and said, annoyed. Our moments of perfect silence. He hated those who ruin our times .-" What are you doing here? "
" I am here to defend the princess from the big bad wolf. I would not want to eat your heart "- Frank jokingly said, unaware of what simple words would cause, unaware of some words that touched our lives deeply, our memories, our reality.
" What are you doing it here? "- Paul shouted as held, turning to me -" What, do you want him here, here in my house? Why did you tell him to come? "- Said to slam down his coffee cup, was covered with sweat and started shaking hard.
Paul Calm down, I told him to come only ...."- cough would not let him breathe, "calm down. Frank And you get out of here, go away, "Frank
I pushed out the door and in a panic I went to Paul, who had opened his shirt and scratched his chest violently as to move some rock that would not allow him to breathe. I tried to hold the hands, but escaped each socket. bloodying He was forced to scratch his chest, then exploded into tears talkative.
"Why did you do that Paul, because Paul? What is the point of all this Paul? "Life dolor es," so you say, no! No! I am not strong enough to accept it. Where are your meds, where? "- Began to empty the drawers where he used to keep his medication and shortly thereafter, for some unknown instinct of self-defense, it was as if I had removed his presence, I put my head in my hands crying on the floor, including all those boxes of medicines, vials, tablets and recipes.
"There are no Paul ... your meds ... oh this ... I hate you Paul ..." - I cried with the genuine cry of a child.
Then I felt his embrace, and his sweat, and its tremors subside in contact with my parents. He kissed me on the head and I squeezed his arm around my waist.
"Silly, I had the pills in his pocket. Calm down now ... Love, calm down now ..."
Those who claim to know the pain, do not know what it's about, and others are dying every day without being conscious. I could say a thousand words, but not worth talking about really important things ... And who has the heart to hear, construed.
There is a framework within which I live: Hopper's Nighthawks. Sitting at the counter of a bar, a night like any other, indifferent as he shook his hand. And then the jazz music will stop, and the waiter will clean around, and we we'll be in our little house, and we will get our stupid slippers, and watch that piece of Casablanca where she asks "And what about us "and Humphrey Bogart says," We'll Always Have Paris ". Then he will say that I was right, and I just smile and go to sleep with her head in her lap. Or perhaps, maybe dance "I Think Of You" by Sinatra, or maybe once again I'm going to fight with the neighbor's cat that s'intrufola always in bed between us. And coming back to find him sleeping room with his notebook on the brown chest. Then do not lift a finger, knowing that there are ways for me in those pages, to extinguish the lamp to see in dim light, all night.
"I'll hate you Paul, you'll hate and forget you and burn all your letters and your poems and those funny drawings, if only you try to go ... I'll hate you Paul. But why, why?
" Why I have something in here in the body, that is not working as it should. And it's your fault you know? He told me One day a man caught but very funny, fast-talking and ridiculous. These scattered on a clear sky some abstract paintings and said that because of some evil E. his heart had weakened and did not want to toe the line. "
" Who was this man, a fortune teller? "
" Why Are not the doctors unprepared for the actors who play in actual theaters full of tragedies? Now I feel a little 'cold. "
" Jump on the couch. I seek a blanket. "
" No. .. do not go. Come with me on the couch "- held me back.
" Ok, ok I do. But now, calm down "- had begun to tremble .-" And in the end always a tragedy to do anything right? As if everything, everything revolved around me. Excuse me ... "
" Do not be silly, everything, everything revolves around you, except that you lose yourself somewhere, but do not notice anything if you do not leak. Too distracted to not let it happen, too innocent to believe that the cause is you. "
" Paul I
...." "I know, I know. So tell me something ... Oh, how many nights you've been waiting Eveline. How many nights ... "
I threw that look deeply sad, the look of one who has the courage to even ask what belongs to it. Take it hard, makes you insecure. ... The sutra of the inferiority Why God, the great Creator of poor creatures, why did you allow that some dimenino day and night, unhappy at the beauty, powerless in the face of beauty, without words, ignorant, small, modest, full of fear and remorse in the face of beauty? And then a strong wind interrupted the flow of thoughts. Outside the sun was gone, a dark gray spread over us. The balcony door slammed loudly. And he was a sigh from me. The slightest touch of the lips, "I wanted him to understand the essence of the kiss" *. I have two big regrets in life, the vision of libraries that drip with books that we will never have the time to read and the courage of artists. Courage ...
"You promised not to return"
"I'll be back tomorrow ..."
"I'm tired Eveline"
"What are those marks on her arm?"
"Small Souvenirs from my visits to the hospital. "
" Nothing morphine. Paul Do you promise? No morphine, please ... "
" And so, finally told me that certain afternoons to discern the North Sea? "
" I'm trying to silence that spoke to me long ago, remember, only the grass beneath your bare feet will make noise, you said-I. I hear the sound of the sea and the creaking of a ship silently rocking from side to side. I want to leave with you ..."- these words alarmed me said
"Do not talk nonsense!"
"I'm tired Paul."
"And so it is always you. But it is no reproach, my Queen silly tramp. S i is always with you, for you are all of us, and you do not want a heart, but to do ours. Only that love us in ways that we can not understand. So silly to suffer ..."- then began to whisper as if I had this-"And if you dare look at that light go blind, and so a slave to it forever, you'll want to drag you anywhere!"
became pale, pale as morning trapped in the clutches of the night, clutching the walls transparent and spreads everywhere the dark mantle.
"I ..."
"Now it's better if you go away"
"Paul ..."
Indifferent . I turned away and began to settle some papers, some notebooks. His shoulders, and arms so skinny, so tired. I wanted to put her head behind her back and tighten it. Making love on our sinking ship, but I got up and walked to the door with some still in mind the words of Kerouac:
"I decided to avoid the outcome of the event, and remain beyond the sky"
"come back, I have to study for an exam, but I will return "- I told him.
"Do what you want" - he replied.
Every time I thought I had discovered the extreme view of solitude, I was wrong. I went out the door in silence, leaving him free to hate his cruel queen of the golden age.
