I was going to entitle this film »Where cats go to die»

Luca Pacchiarini

I was going to entiltle this film “Where cats go to die”. But sadly I can’t make films, I don’t have the necessary equipment and if I won the Oscars I would not know what to match with my purple tie. Either way, luckily the title does not make sense. I just like the sound of it, it has no correlation to the following story. Relax.

Anyway, if I could make a film I would take two heavily idealised characters. Say, Oniria, a personification of dreams and sleep, and Insomnia, meaning real life, sorrow, etc.

They love each other but cannot meet because they live in different worlds or at different times of the day. The presence of one implies the absence of the other. Insomnia can, under certain conditions, enter into Oniria’s realm, but not vice versa.

At this point my dad entered into the room as I was typing this. He asked me if I wanted a cup of tamarindo. He started moving his arms and legs frantically to mimic a goal that happened in a 1997 Empoli-Fiorentina derby. Bless dad.

One night, anyway, Insomnia decides to court Oniria. So she (yes, it’s lesbian story) gathers all sorts of strange and borderline characters belonging to her world (confusion, decay, marginality), forming a band of drug addicts, drunkards, amputees to sing a serenade under Oniria’s apartment. Hey it’s going great so far! Great symbolism man.

At this point I should say that inside Oniria’s apartment there is a tv turned on an obscure channel, (maybe a prime number, to give some sort of mistery). The film being watched should be a Portuguese experimental movie from the Sixties, where colours are all saturated into an uniform cobalt blue. That will make people think I’m a fan of psichedelic films, I really want to see that influence in my Wikipedia article.

Mentioning blue, I’ve again forgotten to buy the new kits for my 5side football team. Shops are about to close in 30 minutes. Would you be kind to remind me of this when this film ends thank you.

At this point I think I should skip the lesbian sex scene when Oniria is moved by the serenade and lets Insomnia walk in her room. Hell, even an orgy with all the amputee flute players would have been great, but I recently read a Guardian article saying that there is a yearly award for the worst sex description in literature and I don’t want to win it.

My mum is calling from the kitchen, she says dinners’ ready in about 5 minutes so I will cut the film short. So, yeah basically after their encounter Oniria is pretty pissed up because you know, Insomnia really doesn’t want to go, she wants to stay and stay and them goddesses of the night can’t stand daylight, ya know. They would, like, dissolve.

Insomnia chases her with a cricket stump through a psichedelic valley until they reach an enormous cross a bit like La Valle De Los Caidos in Spain. There Oniria climbs on it, jumps but nothing happens. They both fell asleep on the ground, and when they wake up the next morning they discover they were in a junkyard in the outskirts of Barcelona. Oniria has her face cracking like dry mud under a scorching sun and Insomnia has finally slept. So yeah, the roles are reversed, the first one is suddenly suffering from the decay of real life and the latter has entered the world of dreams.

I would have liked to make a reference to the seminal drug classic “The Seven Sisters of Sleep” but I can’t seem to find a suitable place.

I must remember that tomorrow I should go and buy olives at the supermarket, otherwise the promotional offer will end. Also, tomatoes

fennels (2-3)

carrots

Duracell batteries

I would like to end with the image of them nude in a junkyard at dawn, with a view on the sprawling city that seems like a prostitute on her bed after a hard night of work, with the first cars driving through the streets resembling blood that starts to flow again through its arteries, the arteries of a body which has just come back to life, like in every new day.

A day that will see loves germinate and rot, a day that will see children lose their last tooth, and only the night will tell if they succeeded in their desperate efforts of screwing it back into their tiny mouths. And if they die of hunger, then the night will come, but no vultures will fly in circle over their bodies, because even the vultures had died!!!!!!!

AND THIS IS THE ENDLESS SPECTACLE OF HUMANITY!!!! !!!!!!!!!1

(ENDTITLES!!!!!!!!!)

Need to rush out and buy the kits!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111