Stefania Gelpi

26 Set 2016

BY JOVE!

A selection for non-italian readers translated by Stefania Gelpi

We went on a boat trip on the river Mincio and we ate a whole load of library. We had a snack on the lawn, except some chunks of banana. What happened to Fabio? A thorn in his paw? Toothache? Belly cramps? Uh, Gianluca, how did it all happen? Gianluca’s ice has melted, so, if we want more wet mud, we need a lot of water.

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St. Rocco was a protector, shame he died. He was a protector, protecting everyone at the same time: but if you’re not there when he’s protecting, there’s nothing you can do, he cannot protect you. Protectors and saints are scattered everywhere, St. Rocco is important because he created all his things and because he is needed to look at the sky and the sky looks down and back at us. He lived in his house, which was a hideout of all God’s creatures in a village called Franco Galbiati, in the province of Pavia.

Maria went to Lourdes last year, on a motorbike, with uncle Gino. In Lourdes she prayed to St. Mary, over and over again. Maria dived into the water to swim with her arms open, but came out all dry. She’s healed: she’s worse than before.

It gets on my nerves when I sit at the table with Alessandra and she keeps biting her finger, and she cannot even explain why. ‘Bother’ is a threatening word, an emblem, a mystery. I somehow get annoyed by people who keep on provoking me, they “misbehave”, they are a bit “touchy”, and then at times we make friends with some of them, but not all of them. Whispers bother me, tickles bother me. The thing that bothers me the most is when they make fun of me. Or when you agree on meeting someone and they don’t turn up.

I don’t know, I don’t know anything. I’m here, like that, doing nothing.

Underwater gangway, on foot with the dog. Glass gangway with many lights above and below, shining, big electric torches. I check, I am not sure who is the worker, I check, full stop. Everything is ok. A guy buys a ticket (2 euros) and walks on the gangway, under water. You can see fish, shoes, two scrapers, dead nuns, bottles, boats engines, cars engines; it’s full of stuff. I am not sure when it will be ready, I’ll let you know so that you can pop by.

(Manuel S.)

The void is like the nothingness, something that was never there, it’s infinite and does not have an end. The void is nothing, you cannot touch the void, you cannot catch it, you cannot avoid to call it void. The void sometimes can be touched with your hands, it’s tangible, but I’m also trying to figure it out. I try to run away from the void, even when I don’t care that much about it. The void dazzles me, scares me, torments me, I try to run away to try and stay calmer. Not only calmer, but also quieter, more open.

In order to be beautiful, religion must be important and certain. Certain, because certainty is important, we need to be certain of something, for example certain of receiving presents, like a bunch of roses. Sometimes I like religion, I feel for religion, generating harmony, likability, it’s generous with everyone. Religion is there to be read, reading the words that are in the books. Religion is perfect, is likeable and fantastic, I recommend it to anyone who works as a cleaner, in IT, in science.