Ho capito di essere diventata adulta quando ho iniziato a preoccuparmi per i miei parents, the consequences of my actions and the world around me.
Unfortunately this concern, most of the time is only asking obsessively as I can intervene. It almost always ends with sit at my watch things go worse and worse, doing nothing. I note my helplessness, and I feel terribly worried and distraught.
Contrary to what I could imagine, after so many years I have also started to feel a bond with the place where I come from and where are fiercely ran away. That link is my family, are the streets where I took my first steps into the world, are the faces aging of my fellow citizens. But the point is I do not recognize it as the fruit of this tree. My roots are here, but I went away. And I think part of me will lead me to distance myself even more. Not without pain, of course. Still, you can blame me?
This is the road which leads onto the entrance side of the cemetery of St. Maria CV, where my loved ones are buried. Look who greets me: a pair of mongrels and a chorus of barking dipserati. Yes, well, to point out that once we are dead ashes and nothing more, the city of my native country has also seen fit to keep the kennel dientro here. Both mica dead have ears? And not even the nose, then do not feel the stench coming from the illegal dump along the road.
The dead do not. But the visitors? The poor elderly widows to proceed unsteadily between barking and foul effluvia?
What is the name this way? You read that right. They also poetically headed "Way of the Spirits". In fact, the night stand suspected gas from the ground, wisps or toxic fumes, that we can not know.
Someone has even considered appropriate to post here, which is realized in full the meeting between man and beast, a leaflet advertising the service of "pet cemetery".
But it's no wonder that the common feeling to go in this direction (I will not miss a word search). Here work is sold, as were homes.
They keep us on a leash.
October 2010
S. Maria Capua Vetere, Ce
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