Pazza Idea (Crazy Idea) – edited

So I have this kind of crazy, weird idea lately. That, when you are talking to an indefinite audience of millions of people from Tasmania to Alaska there is always something that you say that refers to me. Not to me as a person, but something that refers to something that I like, enjoy, read, hear. It’s weird. Really weird. And makes me feel uncomfortable, inappropriate, unfulfilled.  Because it has happened, after reading or hearing something you have said that accidentally I have surprised myself saying, for instance, “I don’t think that poem was in that book, but it was written for that show on purpose… don’t you…?” and I stopped with my bigmouth still open because I was talking to… no one. Because we will never have that kind of conversation. Those conversations that are like pulling Ariadne’s thread of Art and Life, passing from one book to another, talking of everything, about the melancholic decadence of the country I live in, or the frustrated hopes of the one I come from. Commenting if you think you feel like playing already a character as the tired hero that has returned to Itaca, smeared with the blood of the Greek princes he has just slaughtered. I know for sure that it would be the most fulfilling intellectual experience of my life. But it’s frustrating. Because it will never happen. Then, I wonder: is there something wrong in my life? Following the logic I should say that something is missing, if you unconsciously fill that kind of void with what you said to a vast worldwide audience days ago, months ago, years ago. I’m too old for this kind of feeling.. too old.. older than you (just fifteen months, anyway).

I will give you up one of these days. This can’t be. (I don’t think I will give you up, anyway.)

Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherised upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question…

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit

(T.S.Eliot – The Love Song of Alfred J. Prufrock)

(Note: do not write posts anymore with Tori Amos as background… increases my “spleen”)

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4 thoughts on “Pazza Idea (Crazy Idea) – edited

  1. Melancholic decadence! Wow! BTW, Prufrock has always been a favorite of mine 🙂 Isn’t that the one where he says, “I should have been a pair of claws scuttling across the floors of silent seas?” Or something close. I understand your sentiment entirely. Fandom has its melancholic side…

    1. The shipwreck of the Concordia is a perfect metaphore of this country, Linnet. 😦

      As I don’t relay on my memory I have checked my kindle and indeed that’s the exact quote. 🙂

      Yes, the melancholic and frustrating side of the fandom.

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