Letter #7 (or, Into the Wild)

Caro Dario,

It’s a month I moved to Sicily.
I am in Pozzallo: one of the most southern places in Sicily, hence in Italy. People from my Master’s degree told me I would have been shipped to Modica – which is a slightly bigger town – but…here I am. In the industrial zone of Modica-Pozzallo. Modica is 13 miles from here, and Ragusa is 20. I’m basically in the middle of nowhere.
Into the wild.
Which is a wilderness for the body as much as for the soul.
My abode is the depandance which was used by the old keeper of the property which belongs to the company I’m working for. But he doesn’t live here anymore. I suspect that they just needed a new keeper, so they requested an intern!

The house is detached from the main building of the company. But the external gate is shared. The company is 50 steps from the house. Which, in complete honesty, it’s not that bad; cozy and warm.
Around here, as I’ve said, there’s nothing for miles and miles. Only small industries and empty, abandoned warehouses. I am not shy to say that during the weekends, when I’m alone – as my jackass roommate runs back to his mom to get his laundry done – I struggle to fall asleep without the thought of being the only living being in this ghost town! I imagine the soul of past workers, still chained to their nine to five job, gathering in the empty warehouses, empty offices – cathedrals in the desert of capitalism – and keeping chasing their spreadsheets, in a modern version of Dante’s Inferno.

Corporate jobs are hell on earth.

But maybe my complaints are just coming from the general situation. I’m lonely. Not just from the physical withdrawal from fellow human beings, but from the fact that I feel a stranger in a strange land. I cannot take a train and go home, and planes are too few and expensive.

Looking at the bright side, I’ve a lot of spare time. I’m watching so many movies lately, and I’ve started again to read books. I just finished Carrie by Stephen King and am starting ‘The Closed Circle’ by Jonathan Coe. I don’t know if you know him, but I think he’s a great writer.

I’ve watched Birdman and I loved it. One of the best movies of the year. And I think Edward Norton is one of the best actors ever. It’s a shame that, after his brilliant roles in the nineties, he couldn’t find roles that were suited to his nature. Until Birdman.
I’m working with an online magazine called Exportiamo. After my first successful article, about the state of the market in Morocco, I’ve submitted another one, this time about Cinema. I actually tried to link the very low exports of Italian movies, but I ended up talking about a thousand directors, even very obscure ones like Lenzi, Bava, Fulci, Deodato and such.

They didn’t like it. But I thought it was a cool one! Let’s hope they’ll publish it.
Ok. I’ve got to go now.

I’ll continue in the next email.
Speak to you soon, Da.
A hug,




3 thoughts on “Letter #7 (or, Into the Wild)

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