Friday, May 27, 2022 02:33

Desire

Because I have not yet matured entirely, I still have moments when I remember the feelings and experiences of childhood, and I feel them alive, as I would live them now, or now would be again as back then. When I was little, I often broke off of reality for hours and dream, and dreeeeeeeam with and without open eyes, until I myself did not know for sure what is dream and what is real. I remember particularly a dream that often occur, and which – at the time – it seemed perfectly feasible, and even incomprehensible to me how people do not put it into practice: traveling through time and space to talk directly with various illustrious figures. Obviously, I had no idea about the relative time of Einstein nor the continuum of space-time, but it only seemed absolutely superb to be able to talk, for instance, with that brilliant Mr. who created Jerry or Mickey. And honestly, it would not have been polite of me to assail the poor man with a flood of questions, but ..

Now that I grew up (at least in centimeters and years) and I widened my horizons of thought, I also added on the list of “Good Person To Visit” some others, more abstract and who would not present to a child the same interest that would present, for example, the man who invented the first cotton candy.

I wish I could visit Hitler a little. See what childhood had he, that he got so bad. To see what was so fatal to him that to pervert his soul in such a plight. Almost – almost in the same category with him I would place the little people who invented monsters cartoons of today, or those who steal other children’s childhood.

Somewhere in the top of the countless people I would have wanted to visit “first hand” and to whom I would have loved to exchange some words, is Freddie Mercury. Oh Lord, I would have really really liked to be able to talk with him in a typical day of his life, without any prior arrangement, officials and other polite things. I would have liked to talk to him one day when he would have felt shy and lonely, and tired of flashes, a day in which he wanted to be a little sad and surrounded by friends. To just sit and exchange stories and thoughts …

It would have been peerless. I could have sworn that it would have been as nice as some random chicken skin, on some random boiling Wembley, in a random night of July…

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