Paolo+Tombolato

“Once below a time”, in a place possibly called Nowhereland, maybe there was a king? a prince? a knight?…..what matters is that his name was Peterpaolo!!!

……it’s by now “a truth universally acknowledged” that the web is not a physical space and that you can make up an entirely new identity if you like it (it seems that someone is even willing to pay cash to make it as properly as possible); I didn’t mean to say anything new by my initial lines, just to make fun of this paradox and let you know why I chose Peterpaolo as a nick an Nowhereland as a name for my space.

So, back to the real thing!!! As you may assume out of this picture of me, I’ am not what might be called a baby student!! I’m enjoying my 30ies…..uffff!! I’ve told it, what a relief!. Now I am supposed to talk about me, my life, tastes, friends, leisure time………but are you really interested? I mean, am not sure I would willingly read about someone I don’t know, who could be an angel on earth as much as a serially committed killer; but I admit I am assured that this sort of game actually works…..so I will rely on my informants but I won’t start from Eden, I apologize (if you are interested in my undertakings as a child let me now an I will provide you with plenty of unnecessary information!).

……well, to cut a long story short, after being born I was brought up in the prettiest neighbourhood in town (am I running overemphatic? Looks like so? hm…).good, it was almost wild, savage countryside over there in the Jungle that in my eyes was all trees and bushes and the fields of corn and the enormous, tremendous Hay Balls we guys, my twelve cousins and I would challenged the chanted place like Knights in front of Giants and Dragons And I Was King (self-appointed though I may admit, beg your pardon. ehm!). Child and Hoods spent on wearing warmest summer afternoons fighting my fellows twelve and loving them to the bone, and kicked each other every other day off one’s shelter that nobody might find out one’s secret for killing the wicked dwarfs (now I think I’ll be more sober), while a hunchback (namely, GranPa) in the pebbled yard delighted working his timber that the arrows and swords we would kill each other with could be as sharp as possible ( Oh Save Save Man!! I Know you’re now Honoured among the Stars and Heavens). Sorry, I’m afraid I didn’t live up to the promise. At 6, I sailed for the Primary…..a lively child, hard to be looked after by my teacher (granny Marina….but she’s still alive, I won’t kill her with still another anthem, beg you pardon!). And the were the dusty soccer ground, the parks and a herd of furious children, other than my cousin (I hadn’t realised yet that there could possibly be other children in a world that was getting wider and wider!). And there we were: all the guys I now drink my coffee with: Alessandrino and Marco, Piero Patata, Manuel always with his white sheet along with him like Charlie Brown and like him carrying a head heavier than a cannon ball, everybody fear a WMD was beneath and run away fast: And we sill boxed and fought heavier than ever (broken arms and bloody ankles were the ordinary day entertainment, pardon). God Bless You friends, I love you more than ever today!!! (sounds like a sermon? Uhmm…I will sleep on it).

On Friday 16 October 1987 at 11 in the morning, while Regan and Gorbachev were probably discussing the world, I discussed my first kiss with all the passion I was capable of.: at 11.15 I was in the toilet vomiting my entrails off my body…….( to be continued)