Liar
Prologue
Once upon a time, there was a kid who walked and walked a lot.Walking and walking, one day the kid met a man. There was something strange about the man, so the kid asked:"Why don't you have the mouth?""Because in a world where everybody is already talking, whispering, and screaming," the man scribbled on a scrap of paper "my words don't really matter and nobody would hear them anyway."After thinking about it, the kid took off his mouth and dropped it on the ground. He was about to ask another question to the man, but he was long gone.The kid resumed his walk.Walking and walking, one day the kid met another man. There was something strange about the man, so the kid scribbled down:"Why don't you have the ears?""Because in a world where nobody pays attention to anything but himself, where nobody is listening anymore" the man replied, slowly "I don't have anything meaningful to listen to, and even if I did I wouldn't care."After thinking about it, the kid took off his ears, one by one, and dropped them on the ground. He was about to ask another question to the man, but he was long gone.The kid resumed his walk, again.Walking and walking, one day the kid met a girl. There was something beautiful about the girl, and the kid stopped, breathless. But there was also something strange about the girl, so the kid started wondering how to ask her why.Why she had no eyes.
Chapter I
No matter how hard he thought about it, the kid couldn’t figure it out. So he moved on, leaving the girl to her journey. It was not like she could see him anyways.Walking and walking, one day the kid spotted a city. He went in.Everyone there had eyes, ears, and mouth. Everyone there had nice clothes. Everyone there had something to do. Something to say, something to listen to. The mute, deaf, naked kid from the outside had nothing but a bundle of scraps from his travels.The kid thought he could tell people about his journey. About all the discoveries he had made, all the wisdom he had come by. But people were barely noticing him, and when they did, it was to make fun of his appearance. The kid daydreamed about telling that girl about everyone he met. But even if she was there, it was not like she could see him anyways.The kid started to think he had made a mistake. He couldn’t stand that the people weren’t paying attention to him, so the kid decided to hide. He descended deep into the city slums, and found shelter in the sewers. The kid spent days looking through the leftovers of this society he stumbled upon. He couldn’t believe the amount of useful stuff that was being thrown away.Kinda like the kid himself.The days turned into weeks. Months. Then years. All spent talking with himself, about things he already knew. The kid was still thinking about that girl. He didn’t know her name, so he kept writing “HER” on walls. But even if she was there, it was not like she could see him anyways.But what if she could?Would she like what she saw? Would she like him in his sorry state?Ashamed, regretful, and tired, the kid finally had an idea. Maybe he couldn’t undo his mistakes, but he could hide them. And maybe, just maybe, people would listen to him then.Maybe, just maybe, that girl will show up again. And he’ll be ready.So the kid built himself a mask. It was just a box, but at least it covered the roundness of his head. The mask was as heavy as his mind was, but the kid put it on anyways. The kid wrapped his body in bandages and scraps he found in the trash.And with his newly made costume, the kid left behind the small bag he was still clinging on to, and ventured back into the city.
Chapter II
The kid still wanted to tell people about his journey. About all the discoveries he had made, all the wisdom he had come by. He picked up a marker and some cardboard, and he finally could.The townsfolk started to notice the kid. They pointed him out, not to laugh at him, but in awe. He was the mysterious stranger that couldn’t speak, but that wrote wise words on his cardboard signs.The people of the city were captivated by his cryptic messages, and started interpreting them as if they were teachings. The kid’s reputation grew: people wanted to talk with him, asked him questions. He tries his best to give honest answers, but sometimes he didn’t know what to say. So he made something up, just to please the townsfolk.The kid forgot about the girl. Sometimes he still thought about her, but it was brief, it went away quickly under the newfound attention. Until one day, she showed up again. Holding hands with another kid.The kid noticed they were talkig to each other, tracing shapes on each other’s hands. The kid was livid: how come he didn’t think of that? It was so obvious!Suddenly, he felt guilt. If that girl was so special to him, why did he give up so easily? How did he forget about her? No mask could save the kid from these thoughts, so he retreated back into the slums. There, every wall screamed “HER” in bold, black ink.That was it. Oh, he thought he was so special, but he was just a stupid kid. A know-nothing. A nobody. A false prophet. Reduced to writing “HER” on some sewer wall, because he didn’t even have the courage to ask her for her name.And what about his own name? The kid was tired of being some nameless nobody. He was faceless, he made himself a mask. He was nameless, and he will now pick himself a name. He got a spray can, and started covering up his past:Liar was HERe.
Liar (bugiardo)
Prologo
C'era una volta un ragazzino che camminava molto.Camminando e camminando, un giorno il ragazzino incontrò un uomo. C'era qualcosa di strano in quell'uomo, quindi il ragazzino chiese:"Perché non hai la bocca?""Perché in un mondo dove tutti parlano già, sussurrano e urlano," l'uomo scarabocchiò su un pezzo di carta "le mie parole non contano davvero e comunque nessuno le sentirebbe."Dopo averci pensato su, il ragazzino si tolse la bocca e la lasciò cadere per terra. Stava per fare un'altra domanda all'uomo, ma lui era già andato via.Il ragazzino riprese a camminare.Camminando e camminando, un giorno il ragazzino incontrò un altro uomo. C'era qualcosa di strano nell'uomo, quindi il ragazzino scarabocchiò:"Perché non hai le orecchie?""Perché in un mondo dove nessuno presta attenzione a nient'altro che a se stesso, dove nessuno ascolta più" rispose l'uomo, lentamente "Non ho nulla di significativo da ascoltare e anche se lo avessi non mi importerebbe."Dopo averci pensato su, il ragazzino si tolse le orecchie, una per una, e le lasciò cadere per terra. Stava per fare un'altra domanda all'uomo, ma lui era già andato via.Il ragazzino riprese la sua camminata.Camminando e camminando, un giorno il ragazzino incrociò una ragazza. C'era qualcosa di affascinante in lei, che lo fece fermare senza fiato. Ma c'era anche qualcosa di strano nella ragazza, quindi il ragazzino si ritrovò a riflettere su come.Su come chiederle perché lei non avesse gli occhi.
Capitolo I
Per quanto ci pensasse, il ragazzino non riusciva a capire come comunicare con lei. Così se ne andò, lasciando la ragazza al suo viaggio. Ma tanto non avrebbe potuto vederlo comunque.Camminando e camminando, un giorno il ragazzoino individuò una città. Ci entrò.Tutti lì avevano occhi, orecchie e bocca. Tutti lì avevano bei vestiti. Tutti avevano qualcosa da fare. Qualcosa da dire, qualcosa da ascoltare. Il ragazzino muto, sordo e nudo che si arrivava da fuori non aveva altro che un mucchio di cianfrusaglie provenienti dai suoi viaggi.Il ragazzino pensava di poter raccontare alla gente del suo cammino. Di tutte le scoperte che aveva fatto, di tutta la saggezza che aveva acquisito. Ma la gente lo notava a malapena, e quando lo faceva, era per prendersi gioco del suo aspetto. Il ragazzino sognava a occhi aperti di raccontare a quella ragazza di tutte le persone che incontrava. Ma anche se lei fosse stata lì, non avrebbe potuto vederlo comunque.Il ragazzino iniziò a pensare di aver commesso un errore. Non sopportava che la gente non gli prestasse attenzione, così il ragazzino decise di nascondersi. Si addentrò nei bassifondi della città e trovò rifugio nelle fogne. Il ragazzino passò giorni a frugare tra i resti di questa società in cui si era imbattuto. Non riusciva a credere alla quantità di cose utili che venivano buttate via.Un po' come il ragazzino stesso.I giorni diventarono settimane. Mesi. Poi anni. Tutti passati a parlare con se stesso, di cose che già sapeva. Il ragazzino pensava ancora a quella ragazza. Non sapeva il suo nome, quindi continuava a scrivere "HER*" sui muri. Ma anche se lei fosse stata lì, non avrebbe potuto vederlo comunque.E se invece potesse?Le sarebbe piaciuto quello che avrebbe visto? Le sarebbe piaciuto il ragazzino in quello stato pietoso?Vergognandosi, pieno di rimpianti e stanco, il ragazzino ebbe finalmente un'idea. Forse non poteva rimediare ai suoi errori, ma poteva nasconderli. E forse, solo forse, la gente allora lo avrebbe ascoltato.Forse, solo forse, quella ragazza si sarebbe fatta vedere di nuovo. E lui sarebbe stato pronto.Così il ragazzino si costruì una maschera. Era solo una scatola, ma almeno copriva la rotondità della sua testa. La maschera era pesante quanto i suoi pensieri, ma il ragazzino la indossò comunque. Il ragazzino si avvolse in bende e brandelli trovati nella spazzatura.E con il suo costume appena completato, il ragazzino lasciò indietro la piccola borsa di cianfrusaglie a cui era rimasto aggrappato fino ad allora, e si avventurò di nuovo nella città.* "her" vuol dire "lei", in inglese
Capitolo II
--- TRADUZIONE IN CORSO---