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Hi Project,

today is New Year's Day and I'm alone in my house and have nothing to celebrate. I am 74 years old, I have worked a lifetime to buy my very small house and I have been cheated more than once by very bad people used to speculate about everything, but now I have my little house. I have brothers, sisters and nephews, but obviously they have their own world made of dances, of trips and of skiing in the snow, because they have the money to do it. Life, for everyone, even for them, in the end will nevertheless be disgusting, even if now they don’t realize it and when I talk to them I see that they didn’t understood anything and that they treat me like a half demented. I'm gay, they don’t know it, maybe they imagine it, but of course I've never talked about these things and on the other hand I've never had a partner. 

I feel proud of only one thing, that is, of not having given birth to children destined to suffer anyway. Youth, if you are rich, is a drunkenness of foolishness, you follow fashion, social role, and you don’t look around you, you don’t see in what a squalor so many people live, you don’t see that there are so many people abandoned to themselves that are slipping into the abyss of misery and depression. Yet nothing is done for these people and we continue to put children in the world in a completely irresponsible way. I’m gay and obviously I have no children, there will be no one condemned to live because of me. Frankly I never understood what my life is for: no children, false or non-existent family relationships, some pious illusions like religion, but it didn’t last long, and otherwise only a painful waiting for the hour. I'm still in quite good health, but years pass and every new year means to go down a step, this is my waiting for the future! I am now waiting for just one thing. Perhaps old people can no longer understand the world of young people, old people come to the awareness of the non-sense of life but cannot communicate it to anyone who is able to understand it. 

Yesterday I bought two over-thighs of chicken at the supermarket, this morning I put them to boil, with the broth I'll make a little rice, then half a chicken over-thigh for lunch and a half for dinner and an orange, this will be my new year’s day. I'm looking forward to tomorrow because if I need the doctor at least I find him. My three brothers and my eight nephews have "forgotten" to wish me well, and I understand them, because my little house, divided among eight heirs, is a very miserable thing and it is not worth wasting time with an old uncle. But I'm better like this. 

I saw the Pope's Mass, he's an old man too, he tries to say something good, but nobody listens to him, who knows what he really thinks inside of himself. I'm always afraid of falling asleep with the fire on, I have to buy a kitchen with a safety system that extinguishes the fire if the temperature rises too much, or, and perhaps better, a time-controlled electric cooker, at least I can feel comfortable. I didn’t buy the telesalvalavita Beghelli (an alarm device), because I should connect it with the phones of my brothers and my nephews ... and no, that's not what I want to do. I was thinking of making a will in favor of a charity, but I am still uncertain, my nephews throw  a lot of money and they certainly don’t need mine. 

At the end of November I learned that a very nice gentleman died, we always greeted each other on the stairs, then I did not see him anymore because he ended up in the hospital and died there after three weeks. Now an agency came to his house to take care of the apartment (a much better apartment than mine) and took away all the furniture to make the renovation, from the way they took away the furniture it was obvious that everything would end up in rubbish dump, furniture, but also books and many other things, the memories of a life all in rubbish dump. Well, I don’t make it that long, so you understand, and I'm going to see at what point is the broth.

I don’t know whether to wish you a happy new year, because it would seem to make fun of you, I'll just tell you that reading something of Gay Project pulls me out of the well of melancholy. Bye.

Philip (from Milan)

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