“Never Say Goodbye: A dialogue on approaching borders” by Tillo di Lorenzo Badia, Moscow

topic: BORDERS medium: TEXT
T: What a terrible idea to move when you’re heartbroken. No more New York Times on your doorstep, no more cappuccino lying in the sun, no more Pakistani cabbies in the streets, no more miles of eastern beaches. Just that one feeling, the one everyone has felt. It never changes, while everything else changes around you.

T: Stop complaining Peter, you’re a grown man now. And, after all, you’ve always enjoyed adding a little suffering to your perfectly exciting life. Well then, if it has to be a fresh start, so be it. This is like receiving an invitation. An invitation to go East.

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T: Here comes a border, just off the plane, but it’s not the real one. Take my word for it, I work in Government.

T: We know that T, and you think it’s so cool.

T: Then what could it be? The ruthless weather (“a sky that tries to resemble a Turner, and succeeds”, once wrote an Italian), the impossible traffic, the ostrogothic language, the strangers that don’t smile?

T: No, I’m afraid not. It’s about knowing better, and the struggle to get there. Plenty of us get it.

**********
T: The first thing that goes is sleep. Then comes the heat, the growing heat, like you’re on fire.

T: Yes, it hurts. It’s breath taking. But it also means you’re alive. Someone said the little things are those you miss most. Of course they are. It’s because you notice them. And because it’s strictly forbidden to miss the others.

T: Fine, I’m stepping off my cloud now.

**********
T: Comparisons are always tricky. Especially if you’re comparing feelings. My hometown is thousands of years old. It certainly gives you perspective. My chosen town is the most portrayed ever. But you feel like you’ve lost it the minute you leave.

T: And, of course, you haven’t. What about your new town?

T: Well, my new town is new.

**********
T: All I ever wanted to do was write a song. One that goes right to the heart of what life is supposed to be.

T: Strangely enough, you haven’t succeeded yet. Or even tried, for that matter. In the meantime, you’ve concluded this little tale. The only way to cross a border is to never say goodbye.

Moscow, 21 November 2010