Villa Pia say I'm crazy, but until they say that I am calm. the important thing, my father always said, is not to affect the brain, and this I what I have studied and learned at the end. say I'm crazy because I do strange things like spend a whole day without talking, or not sleep for a couple of weeks and then take the two later. things like that fact. cose che a me, a dir la verità non sembrano così strambe. vuoi mettere mio nonno? lui si che era picchiatello forte, giù a billy city ancora se lo ricordano tutti quando da giovane girava per il pase sul suo ciaetto facendo le linguagge ai forestieri. e come lui anche il fratello di mio padre, tutti, o quasi, con qualche rotella in meno.
dicono che quando mio padre disse al suo che voleva sposare mamma lui per tutta risposta gli diede un calcio sullo stinco: 'mascalzone, a metterti un'estranea in casa! ti ha dato di volta il cervello?'. Mio padre lì per lì rimase un po' perplesso. Suo padre gli stava domandando se gli dava di volta il cervello. A lui, che si era laureato a 22 anni in fisica e matematica e che a 33 era uno il più giovane accadrmico del paese. Inarcò il sopracciglio destro, poi quello sinistro, poi si massaggiò due tre volte lo stinco indolensito. il calcio del nonno, più che un'azione intenzionale con lo scopo di far male, era stato un gesto di stizza. e se poi, in questo moto diciamo così casuale, si era trovato un mezzo lo stinco di papà, poco male. eppure mio padre non lo odiava mio nonno, anche se lui diceva sempre cose stupide, anche se la gente del pase gli dava continuamente dell'imbecille. ma perchè poi continuo a parlare di mio nonno e di mio padre? mica me lo ha ordinato il medico, e se anche me lo avesse ordinano io non lo avrei fatto. non prendo ordini da nessuno io. non ne ho mai presi, neanche dal mio maestro di scuola, quello that when the bad guys made us feel we were hanging upside down from the window of the class, and he is holding in her hands unhappy. Master lorenz. that this time I found the comic porn in a backpack if they kidnapped me and gave it back. even at the end of the school year. Lorenzo was a master with hair type Claun that widen on the sides and bald on. the color was between the indefinite and reddish brown. Maestro Lorenzo. Once I saw the janitor groped among the machines of snacks, in the middle between that and the other soft drinks with snacks. have been around 12.55. you know, this is one of the moments where there is more silence to minus 5 from the drum. Some teachers, anticipating the sensation of rising out of the boxes their students, have them be silent, 'children, started to prepare but quietly, and when finished avevte incroociate hands on the table on the chin'. other teachers instead grant the last 45 minutes of class to start doing homework, then if you are good in half an hour you've already done everything and you can start playing a naval battle with your classmate. My companion, however, that alessio seccutelli, it was a duffer at one and five minutes of me running away from death and asked for permission from the teacher. lorenz when I found clinging like an octopus with lemon balm did not understand well what was going on, if she was or was not amused, and if you CONSENTING. I spent guardondoli fixed on the eyes. I looked at them too hard. we looked like three cats that are studied before attempting to battle, or like those Japanese manga where the characters do look with cynical - question. The fact is that I went to the bathroom thinking about my comic still in the hands of that pig. and what we find interesting the caretaker in the head with a clown that puts children swinging from the window.
but now there's a reason why I speak of the school and when I was little. is because since I'm in here I seem to be regressing. This green apron with the buttons back then I hate him, for us to talk about what you do not leave your arms free. I put it when they say they are bad. but I'm not bad. a child is, but not now. before, when levavo the chair from under the seat of the great when they sat down, then I was bad. but not now. then I remember when I made this joke to gnomes, I must have had about 4 years. I took the chair from under his seat while his Terga were about to touch the wood strong and he went down. that laugh. but if it means to be bad, or tell me to be nuts. I do not think I'm neither. and they really do not think even all of all my colleagues over here they are. certain someone, I forced to. but not all. for example India seems a nice person equilibratae. that time that I spent a month not to mention he was the only one to feel a sensible approach. knew that I would speak and remained silent. and so, too. and so we passed those wonderful afternoons in the garden without uttering a word, in the warm April sun. But then the doctors here have realized that I was making fun of them and started with an electric shock, with baskets of strange that they put you in the head. an evil dog. and then the second session I decided it was appropriate to talk again. but then I have not passed those wonderful afternoons with India. I then started to do something more fun, hide behind walls, in the process of the corners, and do bhu! people passing by. 1 month of isolation. bhu I did! the wife of the director of the center, that if she started crying and then ginocchio a chiamare mamma.
adesso dico, palrando seriamente, voi pensate che una povera persona solo perchè fa bhù alla moglie del direttore meriti di essere messa un mese in isolamento? bhè, io credo di no. io credo che un mese di isolamento, ma che dico, 2 anni di isolamento, dovrebbero darli al direttore per aver sposato una matta. ecco, si. due anni. non un giorno di meno. neanche un secondo. un millesimo di secondo. sapete, io sono fissato con la precisione. una volta mio figlio aveva messo alcuni miei libri fuori posto, e non era la prima volta. allora presi rocky, il suo bel gatto nero che ormai pesava sui 12 chili, e gli accorciai i baffi con le forbici. bastarono due tagli. zac zac! lui non sembrò aver capito bene cosa era successo and came down to me with a slight jump, but the arrival on the ground was a bit broken. and when the cat was solid on his legs turned to me dubiously.
I'm mad. yeah, maybe I'm crazy. no, not crazy, they are mad. But in here I do not want to stay longer. I want to organize the escape with someone. Yes, but with whom? Good question. camilla maybe. Or jucas. or with the Indian. by short, quiet then I find someone. was also the director's wife in fact, actually be the best person, the most suitable. yes, maybe tell her that her husband, as during these last few months have been good, allows me to go out to attend to simple errands, such as paying some bills. something fast but I will re-establish contact with the outside world. a trifle. a trifle. her, already half of its dumb, do not find it hard to believe the whole story and I'll be finally out. without medicines, sheets of paper to draw, lavatories no longer anything, nothing at all. I'm out, out of Villa Pia.
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). Prima ancora di arrivare ad Asti eccoli che trafficano di nuovo con le valigie, l’impazienza ormai è evidente. “Buon proseguimento!” mi dicono salutandomi e mentre il treno riparte li vedo alzare le braccia e salutare animatamente una figura che li sta raggiungendo… 
