Category: IDENTITY: ORIGIN
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THE LIBERATION
At five years old, I did not enter school: I was introduced. Mothers in the 1970s did not ask for permission, did not negotiate with rules. They decided. And their decision became State law without ever passing through Parliament. For them, age was not a fact — it was an opinion. If you were five…
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MASKS AND IDENTITY
The first masks we learn are the carnival ones — expressions that do not reveal emotions but traits. For a moment, people borrow a gesture, a posture, a playful way of being, and call it celebration. Then come the others, the everyday masks. The ones we used to live, to show what we want to…
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THE ENEMY
As an observer — with that same childlike hyper‑vigilance that never really left me — the word “enemy” hits me in the simplest way: it is not a friend. It is a closed definition; it does not invite interpretation. But in everyday life we twist it, bend it, dilute it. The enemy becomes an opponent,…
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THE WAY WE WERE
I have always been fascinated by the beginning. Not the one written in books — that is just someone’s version, a representation, never an absolute truth. I mean the real beginning, the one no one could record. I imagine it like this. The woman — the first real being from which everything starts — walks…
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THE SERIOUS MAN
My father walks into a small tobacco shop in Seminara, a town in the province of Reggio Calabria. He is not there. He is in the area for work, a Gillette sales representative. Inside, he runs into a neighbor from back home, a bank teller. He asks him, “What are you doing here?” The man,…
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THE SCRIBE
It does not take much time to create a story. You just need to be good at cheating a little. Then they give you a badge and call you a writer. Ahahahah. Psychiatry, when it tries to evaluate you, creates exercises nobody on Earth could pass. But they did understand one thing: a “crazy person”…