He died today at age 18 Aniello Falcone. In his life he has not done anything important, indeed, was able to die a few months before taking the exams, so that has not even been able to say that he graduated from high school.
I am writing this eulogy in his disgrace as it was, after all, a great friend of mine and despite not having accomplished anything good Serb is a wonderful remembrance of him. Generally
death cover with a veil of oblivion the faults of the deceased and all those who speak of him they see him almost as a saint, as someone in his life has done so many things good and beautiful and has always done well with everything and everyone. I will not fall in this condition hypocrite and try to honor him as he wanted, and who was Aniello? What did he think of himself? What did you think of others? And 'this is what I will tell you today, while in front of me is still resting his coffin opened to allow latecomers to give friends a last farewell before the earth will cover the head and the worms begin to devour her body ... watch! It seems almost happy ... for the first time in his life seems to have really enjoyed it, the death must be a really nice lady if he has managed to do so laugh like that, but let's get back to us.
The relationship that I established with him was really special, it was a bit 'my alter-ego, rational ego, his passion, I am a mathematician, his letters, I womanizer, he onanist ... there was a time we lived together We were a real couple in fact, even without the law that these political charlatans are still planning to do and they are afraid of ecclesiastical anathema, at that time we had the most interesting debates about God and the afterlife, and in fact is was quite interesting, because I was anchored to the classical view of life and death, certainly influenced by the Catholic culture, while he was a revolutionary ... saw Christ at the right hand of God in the afterlife and Marx to his left and then all of you before feasting and carousing, and singing in front of a campfire songs by the Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Bob Dylan and Pink Floyd. Now that was heaven for him! No one who spoke to Luca di Risio, Madonna, Sean Paul, or whoever I know. I see him there with a guitar in hand between Saddam Hussein and Hitler (ah, did not believe in hell) to sing "Knockin 'on Heaven's Door" Bob Dylan hits while Stalin claiming copyright, or to speak of the Bible with Muhammad and De Andrè, while John Paul II called him to continue tressette they started. Sorry for the emotion in my voice, but this picture a bit 'strange really makes me remember Aniello.
What I was saying before you start to wander?
Ah, at that time we had interesting discussions on a bit 'of everything, not just stuff on divine things but on the "divine". When he was in the company liked to drink, but could not stop and you ever get drunk, even if they become drunk and felt a bit 'uninhibited enough to speak honestly and tell her what she thought of others. One evening, after an epic match to "lady drink" we ended up talking about the people he hated and loved ones.
remember being impressed by what I said, because I did not expect so many and such things, but I fully agree, for example, said he hated those who yell instead of talk, everybody (and) those who are not able to get the facts its not for thirty seconds, those who hurt people and their ways of behaving and then, when it is too late to pretend you want to repair. According to him, they were not able to understand that good and evil do not compete with the money spread and that, I quote from memory, "the good and bad events are not stochastically independent." Haha, trying to make me the verse, but overall he had a point. If you hurt a person does not mean that you agree to be followed in doing good. And in this room where everybody cries and tears as well as where the makeup melt faces, I see many people responding to this recommendation, and I think I understood he was referring in particular to those people who ... are very familiar with it.
And then those who had loved? This could not tell me ... "I've always been in love an indolent character," he said, but then after a couple of glasses has been released ... loved the same people who love me, it was one of the few places where we were not complementary, but it overlapped. He loved the simple people, who smile for a word or a nonsense, those who do not claim that you love them for their uniform, but that you understand and you do understand the difference; He loved those who understood him and his critics but condemned him, he loved his listeners when he said stupid things and not talking behind his back. Oh well! But those who loved you really care? Maybe he loved those in front of a starry sky feels capable of loving and who before the heat of a fire is able to heat everyone ... be it man or woman, friend or lover. Just the heat was another thing I loved ...
In fact he told me one evening before the heat of the fireplace and the warmth of the whiskey he knew that he sometimes acted like a hypocrite, at least a little. Did not do it intentionally, but felt it was normal for a human being "forget" this time of what he believed. "Here," he said "Here's another category of people who hate: those so hypocritical to hate the hypocritical hypocritically but unable to understand themselves to be hypocrites. That was the last wonderful evening we spent together.
remember how it was today that the fire was crackling in the fireplace with his arms wrapping the pieces of wood stuck in the grate, the snow was falling fast in white swirls painted with crazy that strokes the dark sky in January and sent the dark liquid in our glasses that swayed and flowed into our mouths as if it were alive. Then he began to write the numbers. The next day he ran away without telling me, leaving only a letter, I'd love to read, and that seemed anything but a sensible letter.
"I loved you so much, certainly more than myself. You were everything I wanted to be, but I could be. You were suddenly appeared in my life and now I suddenly disappear from yours. Strange life, no? A series of bizarre and enigmatic moments, all different, but at the same time all the same, in which the only choice we have is just to experience them or not. I must run away, I live, I have to wake up and I can not idle: I can not let me rain on me, the risk of dying rusty. I will die anyway. I know. A man can not live without sleep, but can live without sleep. What is death but an eternal sleep? Hope you're wishing me good night. Signed 'I'. "
I wipe this tear.
That son of a good mother even managed to make me cry.
After reading the message I have not seen for almost a year longer, then I read the news in the newspaper, a young man of 18 years, that AF had climbed up a rope attached to a cloud, but a gust of wind had broken the bond and the general astonishment was collapsed to the ground. Laughing. Laughing! When I read it I immediately thought of him ... who does not sleep crazy and only a fool would learn to fly only to jump without a parachute. So I went on site and there it is. He had that smile on his face, very different from face who claimed to resemble a smile on his face that led first to escape, and a note in his pocket that read only: "I know you're here, you ugly bastard. Sorry if I made you feel worried, but now I'm here. "
And now I finished speaking I have loved you ... I too much.
If someone else wants to talk can come here and challenge the microphone on the altar .. I give it to him willingly.
