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gray

I open my eyes and lifted his head.
I sat bent over my chair in the room.
Everything around me has lost its color, everything is in shades of gray: the table, wardrobe.
Even myself: now that I look at my hands, I find to be in shades of gray.
the window I see: the world behind the glass is still in color.
I jumped up, ran to open it, I am facing: shades of gray.
closes it: the colors do not add up.
I want to go out and see.
through the house to earn the exit.
On the way I run into a mirror, I look: the veil of a beard gives me more in shades of gray.

go down the stairs and finish in the road.
I scan around, close to me is an old, also in shades of gray.
I look at him, looks at me, smiling, asked him:

"What has made the colors?"

"What?" I answered, laughing

"well, yellow, red for example,"

"and what do you do color? This is a tale in shades of gray. There are and even if there were anything you would not chains. "

In a story, I thought, We are a story. And I, old, everything that surrounds us and even my chair, my closet, are just words. Even the clouds are just words.
raise my head to look at them. I almost imagine them as spots of ink on the paper flow.
And me? What word am I? Maybe not even a word, maybe they are a punctuation mark.
But why a story should be in grayscale or color? It makes no sense.
Riabasso the head, the old is gone.

I'll scream:

"I understand, is not a story, is the reality we see in shades of gray because it seems that there is life, and so we accept it without doing anything to change it. For this shoot then become old and finally "

works like movies once this life, the shades of gray would only stimulate the imagination. And with our imagination we should give it color.

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This script came to me in mind while studying English literature and aesthetics. It 's based mainly on a book by Foucault, from whom I learned that my sketch of a theory already existed, so I decided to made out his name.

through my I see the world body.

Through my eyes I see him.
Not only can I extend my eye from where the view draws a vague and hazy border, but I see the world through words etched in the pages of books.
's so far away that I look through my eyes, in space and time.

Through my hands I meet him.
not just chasing the words, with the index, line after line:
but my fingers themselves become the peaks of the Apennines and on my palms, you can create deltas and estuaries. My body

unpleasant topia. My body
pleasant place invisible any time he shows me other things, elsewhere.
my physicality, a dispenser of quell'estraniante impossible to see where I am, I shall make the rest.
Because if my body occupies space, making it invisible. So I will not see
where ever they are, but you always know where they are not.
And if I know where to go, that reached us, I will not know whether to be not what surrounds me.

But if you will be the place to go, he had reached to find out what's in my will permeate your body.
And space to get ahead will be for me an unpleasant utopia:
because in reality, even though I like to convince and hope, you'll never get.

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Foucault's imaginary friend

How many of you have had a small imaginary friend?
And at what age have you forsaken me? Because usually you leave, right?
I realized I do not have one. For this reason perhaps I never even abandoned.
What then is not so imaginary.
I do not know how much time has passed but they are certainly a number of years.
I was little, I remember when he made his appearance.
it was not at the bottom of all this novelty, there were already others in the area, although perhaps never been anyone's imaginary friends.
Or maybe they were or still are a few home.
However, the peculiarity is not originality.
The difference is that his peers are still more or less in strength.
him instead, because, they say, the small mob of neighborhood, immediately closed their doors.
Since then it has still remained the sign, now dusty, and the gate Red always fall like a curtain, hiding behind the scenes,
lets my imagination and fueled my desire to find out:
did not open anything in its place and I guess you are still in the coffers and maybe even products on the shelves.
Every time I come in my area, I see that sign, now dusty and the red gate, I see quell'eterotopia that makes me feel at home.
I never thought about the fact that it could be an imaginary friend.

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introductory monologue

Actor is on stage, everything is dark around, only he, dressed in black, is illuminated by the reflector

"will there's a" says, looking forward fixed in a vacuum Shakespeare

"to want is power" again, this time with less security, almost sad tone

"I just want to be able" to reflect aloud, looking down

"Sometimes it can not be wanting, sometimes they can not want to" debate with himself

"but what matters more is that this" ago pauses, looks up, still staring at the empty

"want to know is," says with newfound confidence

"and even more is that " pauses, smiles

"knowledge is power" states with even greater determination

"But what do you know of will" look at the public posting

"but what do you know the power" continues with disgust

"of knowledge then" goes on with pride

"but what want to know "concludes

a moment's pause

"Oh no, do not look angrily" beckons his finger to emphasize what was said,

then continued to gesticulate with his finger, but looking almost complicity, continues

"Have you ever noticed? Everyone knows how you learn to talk " wait a minute in silence

"hearing others talk about" continues with a gesture indicating the banality of the statement

"But how many of you" walk like a investigator, speaking as a professor

"know how to learn to listen?"

look at the result, then a person as if he had said something

"going to the theater?" as if repeating a reply just felt

"going to the theater?" marks the questioning with a tone and a look of disappointment

indicates another

"no listeners are not born, is born auditors ' distorts a little' lip

makes a gesture to indicate you want to give up

"listeners become" explains how to read the story to a child

"forgetting how to speak" accompanying the statement with a gesture that indicates the banality

"and how to become thinkers?" statement raises a hand to his chin, then, without changing pose, smiling

drops his hand from his chin, leaving a bit 'go, and in a confidential tone continues

"know" keep smiling

"you are a public good" show the thumbs-up

"yes, indeed, usually via van before" raises arms

"I do not get even half of what I have said so far" brings her hands to the sides

"all rise when I say that the party was at the end monologue an excuse to attract people, "shrugs

remains silent for a moment, puts his hand to his mouth and continues

"I still did not tell you that?" coughing, poses for acting, a bit ' puzzled looks around: it is as if someone from the wings urged him to pretend nothing has happened and move on. Then down again empty Shakespeare

"But you want to know is to want to know?" is doubtful

"but this is not just a playful crossing of verbs?" still doubtful

stops

"but I really thought there was? Refreshments say" shows behind the scenes

"Well now if you think to want to get up and go potervene" look at the public

"or feel entitled to silence me," continues

"well" focuses

"Go on," accompanying his words with a act relating to the invitation

"fairies, fairies always change the gesture to accompany the words

" of course, you believe it is easy to sit here the dark, standing little break

"with your eyeballs, which contribute not less than reflector made me sweat" continues in one breath

"so you're in theater," he extends his arms

"yes, you're in theater" means the public

"not me" shows himself an open hand resting on his chest

"I should stay here to play, pretending that there are and that what happens here on the stage is all true, is real" raises his voice on the last word

"but you" break

"but you're sitting there watching, thinking that what I say is completely false, I do not really exist" mimics a surprised face, as if he had seen the audience

"it is so. As if what you are seeing is not just a mask, a fiction, a character, something that does not exist in reality" presses

"not counting those of you who believe that I finished the play vanishes, because of me there that the character " look at the result, serious

"I'm real, and are also a character. That 's what puts you in awe, not knowing if he talks the actor or the mask" nods safe

"yes I'm acting, but I play the role of an actor" crushes the eye

"do not tell me who is boring," she smiles

"oh no, feel free to say whatever you want, criticize to whistle and walk away "gestures

" just because you paid for the ticket? " amazed

" It costs so little freedom of word? " opens her eyes

" So tomorrow I will make the viewer too "smug nods

" no more stage, "the indicates

"No more whistles takes two fingers to his mouth, mimicking a whistle

" nothing more than rotten eggs " pretends to have one in hand and shows

"I will make my entry" pretending to walk into a theater

"I will try my place" sits on the edge of the stage

"and no one can silence me" his finger to his nose

"sst" makes no gesture of a finger, then shows an imaginary ticket

"I have a ticket, I bought my share of freedom " shake it back and forth as he speaks

" ah, this is the place "is desolate

"Excuse me, sit well" gets up and goes back to center stage, in great shape

"to each his place," he extends his arms

"want is to know, knowledge is power" resumed the conversation, politely conversing with

"but you know, you know, leads to two needs" shaking a finger

"share" raises an arm in the air

and fight " shakes fist stiffening the arm

" you know always leads to having to stand in the front row opens the hand, arm remains rigid

"but not always tickets were" again waving the ticket imaginary

"then to step over the first file" brings her hands to the sides

"remains only a possibility," lifting an arm and raises the index

"go on stage, to stand in front of everyone, where everyone can see you" passes the index on the public, from left to right

"without having to give away to someone" points behind him with his thumb

makes a 180-degree pirouette, showing their backs to the public . It turns off the spotlight. It closes the curtain.

It reopened shortly after while at the same time you turn on the spotlight. The actor is no more, in its place a table full of food. The lights.