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Accetto Chudi

June 18th 2023

by Matteo F.M. Sommaruga


I almost forgot why I am living here and what I am aiming at. Intellectuals are moved by different ambitions than most of the common people. We like to enjoy our dreams, being able to live on them, catch the attention of as many people as possible and being remembered for eternity. Such ambition can be explained by an exceptional ego only and I wonder whether common men are not better gifted than intellectuals. Perhaps their understanding is also quite a good one, their IQ could be as high as mine, but ofr some reasons they lack ambition and determination. That is the point, I cannot find this determination anymore because I have lost my goals. One hundred years ago there was a czar to be overthrown. I hated him and his family because he represented everything. I could not obtain nor by birth nor through my skills. After one hundred years everything has changed. For some reason I do not wish anymore to live in a large castle surrounded by hundreds of servants nor to sit on a golden chair. I kept some taste for champagne and beautiful women, not necessarily with strong moral principles, but nothing more. By strolling along the lake and looking at the rays of the sun reflecting on the stones, or the bricks of the roofs of the japanese garden, I do not catch anymore the need of improving my condition. I do not know whether by reading Karl Marx, or looking into my own past writings - they are indeed too many - I would be able to find any reasonable explanation. I am beginning to even confuse the correct wording. Perhaps a good dish of knusperli with a beer will clear my mind.



The art dealer

Once again on the road to Basel. Basel Art Basel or Art Basel Basel. I need to attend the fair every year, a great vanity circus where just few can afford to buy and many pretend to be potential buyers. Of course there is someone who can really afford to make a good investment, but you can never know who it is. The adventure starts on the train, sometimes from Zurich, sometimes from Stuttgart. Planes are fully booked and you need to find a suitable alternative on land routes. This year I collected an aged photographer, a woman who says to have attended the art school in Duesseldorf, or in Hamburg, and been invited for some ceremony. Beside her a Hungarian performance artist who has got to take a train connection to Budapest and relies on the precision of the Swiss railways. Forgetting the effects of soft socialism or the country's efficiency. The best character is however a tall man, in his late fifties or early sixties, whose accent is not clear, trying to justify some mismanagement in a transaction while speaking on the phone. On the other side, somewhere, perhaps in the US, given the accent, a certain Sara is complaining that nobody is recognizing her role in the deal. Most probably it is a matter of fees to be divided.The man mentioned a party at the Beyeler Foundation, he does not look really affluent. Perhaps he is one of the many who makes a living from some occasional deal, while also living from state support and free food and drinks offered at these parties. His nose is red, perhaps some effect of the burning sun of these days. Or perhaps even an affection for alcohol. I hope to never look like these people, but be able to earn enough to sustain all my expenses without begging around or playing like a clown. I am too proud for that kind of life.



The consultant

Without a project in my hands, I am wasting my time in the office without a clear purpose. The senior manager is teasing me. He is well aware that, due to inclusivity management and other quota criteria, I have got more chances to rise up in the company hierarchy than he has. Without a project I am like a warrior in a circus who has lost his weapons. Or her weapons, in my case, with the extra need to adopt inclusivity in my words. Anybody can take advantage of me and the best solution is to avoid my fiercest enemies. I doubt that trying to make a pact with them could help. Just the idea to propose a truce would highlight my weakness and some colleagues would enjoy throwing at me the arrows of their frustration. Luckily, it is summer time and I could enjoy a rest all around Zurich. I have got the choice, perhaps driven by the less crowded areas. Along the lake it is indeed quite impossible to find a place that is free. Even by paying the entrance in one of the most expensive Badi. They are actually all very affordable, especially given the average Zurich prices. The only swimming pool not being overcrowded, if not for children, is the one nearby the zoo. Perhaps because most people want to stay around their home or tell their friends that they could take a refreshing bath just by crossing the road. What I am really missing is however the comfort of someone I could thrust and who could stay by me. That would be much more important than feeling on my skin the waves of the lake, or on my face the gentle wind coming from the surrounding mountains, or hills. Right now I am just waiting for the end of the regular bank hours and planning for an afterwork at the Fischerstube.

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In Frankfurt like Heidi, in Zuerich like Lenin

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