One day of Alzheimer
A day of Alzheimer is a swirling stream of shocking novelties. It is the loss of perception of your own body, mind, and soul. It is living in a world, where time does not exists, and memory as well, so that nothing means anything, anymore. A day of Alzheimer is a silent collision with the reality of a life which you were used to call “yours” once, and to which now you look as something alien, unknown. This estrange life flows in front of you in its alterity , as if it lived by itself. This “living” life displays in your presence with all its polychrome, interweaved combinations. It is like bumping into a frightening and charming circus crossing your road, whose magnetic, overpowering force of attraction makes you enter its tent. Timidly allowing the clown to take you around the caravan, you experience as a complete novelty what was once familiar. Those attentive guides try to teach you things you cannot learn a second time: once you have forgotten how to perform this frenetic dance called “life”, its steps cannot be recalled to mind. Your career as dancer is over; nonetheless, someone force to play a role in this big show, making you move like a marionette. Before you fiercely rebel against your puppeteer, then you passively accept the patient authority of whom controls your strings, feeding, washing and dressing you. A day of Alzheimer is the story of a performer, who has been downgraded to a simple spectator of the big “Life Show”. Now he just sits down, watching the monkeys performing on stage, which think to have freely chosen a career in the circus, while they have forgotten instead the day in which their trainer forced them to wear jacket and tie; looking at the clowns, concealing behind their shiny painted smile an irreparable sadness; staring at the tumblers, jumping to not fall and crash against the absence of meaning of their life. When you reach the point of no return, a day of Alzheimer is not so bad: the absence of past memories, and the inability to perceive the difference between who you were used to be and who you are now let you float placidly in the sea of the years which still have to come, unaware of the pain we cause in the people you loved, just sailing, pushed by gentle streams, towards the unavoidable end of your travel.