When I was a child I used to watch documentaries about three things: space, asteroids and time travelling. Do you know why?
I was trembling and laughing at the same time with secret joy and comprehensible fright thinking about the possibility of an asteroid destroying the entire world.
At the time for me the world was very small, at least as small as a shiny school in a shity small town of the most repressed province of the poorest country among the richest countries: south of Italy.
The end of the world by mean of an asteroid would give back to the teachers all my pain and get rid of all the trash of their souls thought the elimination of their bodies, their instructions, their prestige, their roles, the burning of their ridiculous branded clothes.
I loved to talk about space too. It was because I couldn’t stand relatives’ intrusiveness, compulsory smiles, compulsory hugs, compulsory manifestations of affection, compulsory good morning, good afternoon and good night. I couldn’t stand misogini, religious bigotry, entrapping gender-roles, priests pretending they were scientists, fascists pretending they were priests.
In other words, longed for space, or, why not, for gaining to space itself like the space child I’ve been and the spaceman I will never become because I was not good enough in math.
When I was a child I used to watch documentaries about three things: space, asteroids and time traveling. Do you know why? Because a time traveller at that time knew about you and prepared me to the meeting, because I already knew that you would come as predictable as an asteroid, as uncatchable as the space.