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Sledge Hammer 11 (English)
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Sledge Hammer 11E.adf
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quest.txt
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2020-05-02
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THE QUEST
FOR ME
For a life I've looked for myself.
When I was young everything seemed
already planned for me. Childhood,
studies, work. Some powerful and
friendly hands were preparing
everything for me, I had just to
follow the path. When I was at the
university, I thought that I had
reached a good knowledge of the world,
of life, of human relations. I had
definitely known that what I was, how
I was, was just the result of the
experiences of my life. I was the
mirror of my life, of my society of my
culture. I thought that I could start
to see things in a different way, more
detached, clearer, closer to reality,
to their essence. I was a rational
mind, not violent or evil. I already
knew what I could expect from my life,
I admired the guys who had the guts to
travel around the world, but I thought
that my life had to stop in a normal
town, doing a normal work and
cultivating my hobbies and my mind. I
was sure that I could find myself and
the meaning of my life in a normal
life of a normal civilized guy. The
world was something fixed and planned,
there wasn't the need to cross it all
to discover it, I needn't to go to
India to find myself, as a friend of
mine used to tell me.
The studies finished, I had to face
life in its hard face, the mindless
times were over. I looked for a work
for two years. There was the crisis,
they told me, it's difficult for
everybody to find a work. The life of
an unemployed was empty, I were losing
the friends of the university and the
juvenile hobbies, I was losing social
contacts and hopes. Then my mother
died, she was the one who was keeping
the things to go in the proper way, my
father had died some years before. I
was alone, with a brother distant in
the space and in the mind. I decided
to leave, to give up with the world
which had fed me since my birth, I
decided to live what I had seen on
movies or listened from the stories of
known people. I had to leave Italy,
to leave the country which was still
my cradle at 25 years. I decided to
kill my previous life and to build a
totally new one, in the hands of fate,
without any certainty, without any
home. From zero to the arms of the
world.
I travelled to Scandinavia, I
thought that that was my dream world,
the people are more honest, the
society better, the culture sober. I
stood there for two years, working in
many different places but without
really knowing what poverty means, I
still had the money I took with me
from Italy. Then something happened,
I realized that after all there wasn't
much difference, I still had to fight
for money to survive, that wasn't a
thing I liked. I went to India, the
dream country of the hippies of the
sixties, I thought that there had to
be a reason for that. I stopped there
for ten years, ten long years in a
inferno of different people. There is
something completely crazy in India,
something that escapes from the
mentality of the western man, of which
I had always the roots. It's a
mixture of cultures, people and
religions of different types, it's so
full of contradictions. For ten years
I tried to find the peace of my mind
but I had only obtained misery,
violence and a daily battle for
everything. I saw people dying for
starvation there, I saw brains
completely destroyed by drugs, the
same drugs which had to open your
mind, according to some badly informed
hippie.
I lived for ten years without a real
home, I travelled from place to place,
till I realized that I had to change
my life again. To go back to the kind
of life which was devised for me, to
my occidental roots. I reached the
United States of America after a long
painful travel by boat. Finally I was
there, in the heart of the "civilized"
world, in the arms of the world. I
was 39 and I had changed much. I was
no more the young student who believed
in reason and didn't like violence. I
had killed a man in India, I had to
fight, to battle, to see blood
flowing. The world had made this of
me. I went to the west coast, where
the sun could shine high in summer. I
started to work as a waiter, it was a
decent job and it allowed me to stay
in the same place for some time.
@IPkekhegyC
I stood there for eight years. I
had found an humble home, I had found
a work and I thought that this was
just a momentary thing. I thought
that I had just to collect some money
in order to keep on travelling, to
look for other places where I could
finally find myself, where I could
give a meaning, a sense to my
existence. But I was tired, I was
tired of travelling, of looking for a
bed, a piece of bread, an half job.
Eight years. Eight years delaying a
decision that seemed too hard to take,
eight years waiting for what, inside
me, I already knew. Eight years
thinking about future projects without
living the present, without living at
all. Right in the heart of the world.
I decided to go home. To come to my
real, only, unique home. The place
where I was born, the place that
unconsciously had always filled my
mind since the first day I left it. I
came back to Italy. It was much worse
than when I left it, it had pollution,
crime and corruption. The same
persons were changed at my eyes. They
were detached and alien, they didn't
seem my own patriots. I was already
on the decaying half of my life, I had
left behind me youth and hopes, my
eyes could just see the things of the
present, the future was just a grey
polluted fog. I went to my hometown,
I can hardly explain the sensations I
had seeing it again, walking in the
street where I lived for 25 years,
trying to recognize the buildings
that had built my childhood, the
signs of my times. Sad and sweet
nostalgic tears were filling my
eyes while thousands of different
memories, which I believed lost
forever, came back to my mind, while
I was trying to see past, distant,
lost, known faces in the eyes of
the persons walking by. I went to
the cemetery. It was changed, it
was different, I tried to look for the
tomb of my mother, to find the
sign of my presence in these lands.
I walked for hours, looking tomb
after tomb, I felt the sun leaving
my shoulders and when I was
compelled to leave the graveyard
a huge, unsustainable sensation of
emptiness came down on me.
I was there, while the evening of a
summer day was accompanying romantic
couples, walking in a park without
understanding. While the moon was
facing pale and indifferent the events
of life, I realized finally what I had
done. My utter mistake. I had tried
to find myself travelling around the
world, I had tried to cut the ties
with my past and I had found that they
were the only ones that had built a
major part of my same personality and
that could give a sense to it. I had
decided to change my life too late,
when the hands of my roots had already
moulded my mind, for a life I looked
around the world for what I could find
only in the places where I was born.
I was made there, there I had to find
myself.
MACNO of
ABNORMALIA