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Showing posts from June, 2019

Fragments of photos and news

Stories and News No. 1168   Here we are, at the end of the day, no matter how much we can rant and scream, pontificate and even insult, the meeting with the others beyond the boundaries of our moral solitude could only be reduced to that. Fragments. More or less sensitive or exploitable fragments of photos, news and more than ever lives that necessarily need a much larger number of human details to understand them. It’s one of our main problems modern, people of this hyper-connected society, made up of perpetually running clock hands and eyes and ears that can't wait to jump to another digital table, to enjoy new, flavorless but so sparkling food. Because it should be obvious at any age and for any IQ that single humans’ story is not physically synthesizable in such a tiny portion of pixels. None of the protagonists of the latter really would like it, not even us. And above all, in many, too many, they surely don’t deserve it. Oscar and his daughter Valeria’s pa

World Refugee Day 2019 story: human refuge

Stories and News No. 1167   Once upon a time our body, that despite the technological regression, and the illusion of digital closeness, in shapes and large part of its substance it’s still human. It happens during the summer, on the beaches, at the sea or near any waterway, remembering what inevitably makes us similar, and often identical. In one word, refuges. This is really one of the most reliable measures of nature itself that distinguishes us as living creatures, in every time and place. As refugees, safe in the womb of a mother, we perceive the delineation of the contours and the precious and fragile contents that define us as unique. Everyone, without any exception, we come into the world torn from the right and ideal heat, but from that moment we desperately try to return into the beloved former condition. In other words, protected from the primeval refuge. With the feeling that nothing has changed since those few months, we face life, growing and suffering as

Italians first? No, everybody

Stories and News No. 1166   Once upon a time a school. To be precise, when I say school , I mean the building, but also inside. At least in this short story the students and their precious teachers were one with the foundations, the supporting structure, the windows and the ceiling, as well as the walls. Walls which – it should always be remarked – are not only allowed to divide, but also to support and protect the weakest ones, not just the opposite. Well, the previous night someone left testimony of his thought, or delirium, on the walls next to the entrance gate. Italians first , this is the writing that children and parents saw the next morning. It would have been impossible not to see it, as it was very large. Some of the adults commented briefly on that, some complained about the usual carelessness by the education ministry, but most tried to ignore the aggressive message. It was certainly not a new phrase in their eyes and their ears; and it's well known. When