A mesmerizing imagery of Aristotelian catharsis: or the chance to break free1
In whatever way the early snow will fall on single living young maître, the idea would turn out to be the same!
He was standing still near the entrance of the majestic dome, waiting for the mass of people to pass away from late evening's service.
He required being alone, when he was ready to ask his preghiera on another chance to break free from his loneliness.
Since divine support was always given generously whenever he had asked for it, he reflected very carefully not to be taking the role of the fisherman's immoderate wife who incensed the bothidae or flounder rather.
'No irreverence though in this in due course silly comparison', he thought.
If it were only a sort of reversed corollary to the advice, not to exhibit too much superiority to the ancient gods, like e.g., Odysseus did, in carelessly arousing their jealousy, it were straight away a case of ungratefulness as well, not to accept the so-called genetic starter-kit as the most generous bequest, already presented.
However, something he was missing dearly anyway.
Since he had lit the candle at the ancient cathedral of San Marco a half and six years ago, he had never found out how to get hold of the other chance, he had asked for as replacement of his destroyed by life relationship, if possible.
Maybe he had actually missed the opportunities, open right in front of his eyes time after time.
On so naïve a thought emerging then as the genuine cause to surrender:
"The woods are lovely dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep"2
Nevertheless, now, from discovering the daft name of an otherwise unknown band of musicians, out of the blue, the following lines emerged as a serialization; in a simple plagiarism of - significantly misinterpreted - above Robert Frost's of course:
'My little horse will see the light
And then decides: commit suicide!'
Or in the words of unhappy ancient Gaius Valerius Catullus from Sirmione, at the wonderful Lago di Garda:
"Miser Catull!
desinas ineptire!
et quod vides perisse, perditum ducas!"
Now, he thought, 'I am free again, to sleep with another woman, after I have kept my promises and went additional miles for'.
Since it was always his 'little horse' carrying him on and since it always were promises he obviously was obliged to keep, it does not matter in the long run that he failed one way or the other.
He always went miles before he slept; though he erred many times when to keep his promises and when to declare forfeit.
Stymied by his urging him on little companion, who right now might finally be ready to let her go from his dreams?
Stymied by the wrong woman, chosen on a lonely day of his life, for too many miles in the end.
A woman who shut out the light for a period of time too long!
Even though, in a catharsis-like repercussion, fate donated to him, his intentions were just otherwise, the sacred moment he gently stroke the bare right breast and arm of Romeo's lovely Julia, downwards to her hand at Verona:
Only a short stretch after, unfortunately, he realized the truth of their cruel inescapable destiny and he suddenly felt the ultimate pain of over:
'So, this is goodbye!'3
"che ti manchi ancor qualcosa che ti manchi ancor qualcosa
Forse un sogno che è rimasto la dov'è
e comunque sia altro cielo c'è..
altro cielo c'è..."4
Where is the light actually?
Well he thought, 'hordes of!'5
Molon Labe6
next
1 Courtesy of one or two lonely top managers' fate.
2 Robert Frost (1874-1963); Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening;
New York: Henry Holt and Co., 1923.
3 Moby.
4 Solo un volo di Ornella & Eros.
5 Cf., Clinical Corner.
6 Leonides the Spartan King.
