The Italians of Asia

February 26, 2018

No! I dont imagine I see the world like an Italian….but I happen to know of many who do. If I’ve such an aspect in my character that qualifies as a vice or gift depending of course on how many tiger beers have been emptied. I am simply one of those fellows who are content to see the world prosaically…that’s to say as it is warts and all in its pure and unadulterated state. Sometimes especially when the light wanes ever so softly in the reproach of the evenings…sometimes I flatter myself that surely this has to be a talent. At other times when the long drawn nights seem to stretch forever like a solitary ship ploughing thru inky blackness….I wonder perhaps it is a curse and nothing of the sort near talent.

After all, a talent has to serve. I admit it need not. But it should. Even if one happens to be its sole secret admirer….not something that enslaves you. That if you understand is why I can never seek anything resembling oneness with those who claim they have to write…they have no choice, but to bear witness and narrate. That if you must know is what i regard as a useless talent as one is compelled to serve it always.

The talent you cannot put down or let go for a whole week or better still a month is a talent that uses you…you can’t command it at will – that’s a liability.

But as the light dies and I confess all this to you my dear perceptive reader…my way of seeing the world and nursing the conceit of my talent..for the moment at least while the light manages to hold out….my talent seems more of a virtue than a danger, which ironically is how all dangers first appear…as talents that one is able to command at will.

And this brings me to the coda of my point. No…I dont think Italians would ever think of such things.

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