The long night and the dead souls of Gogol

Yesterday at six in the afternoon, in Villa Borghese, everything was ready for the usual dawn ritual at the Pincio. It only meant waiting twelve hours. A usually endless time that many have instead spent sleepless, roaming the city. You could already are see herds of youngsters that slowly reached the centre with the same walk that the fans have when they go to the stadium.

Perhaps this is the message that wants to be passed on with the long night: transform everyone in an indistinct mass of “dead souls” irrespective of age. Always keep the light on. Such as in the breeding of chickens in battery, so they never stop eating. Otherwise it doesn’t explain this waste. This greedy banquet of events and shows. All in the name of consumption, of entertainment. It’s the Veltronian hedonism say the critics.

When instead there would be much to learn from this midday light. Villa Borghese is one of the better places to take sunset lessons. So that when night comes, the night is not a surprise. A thought, an intention for the next day or only an emotion. But we know that in these times, even walking alone is seen with suspicion. Singularity is subversive.