The others Like that morning, like the mornings that everybody lives once in a lifetime. Then nothing. Life, endless roles. Indicators, moments of solitude. In the sand, the fishing boats overlook the village shore. And it was so hot. For a love to be a murderer. To betray a friendship. For the Other who doesn’t wear the cape, drink wine and get drunk? For Alli who wears burgers and paints her toenails orange, to demonstrate today that no one has ever understood her. Those others we loved dearly and forgot within them, the pain of our own. How Much Does « Thinking » of One of Us Cost?
For how many silverware can one buy? To be sold? Or be destroyed? I sell to be a dog. Do not believe in God or Allah. To be with the others and with those that are made of the same cotton cloth. To become a flag, a union for all. Become a pencil in the hands of the Others who fight for ideals and write « Peace » everywhere In a corner of the earth, those who laugh and others who cry. Complicated or just like a rustic song, raki in the glasses, we will celebrate this year, away from the fireplaces. We hope these and others are still alive, to walk freely on the ground again.
In Paris, in Milan, in the lounges, in the poor neighborhood, the tear of a pearl is not made. Someone Else Will Become a Saint They Said…. A thousand years have passed .. And another thousand. So much pain to continue and multiply. For what crime, should we all pay?
For what debt?
Eva Petropoulou Lianoy