Everybody or Nobody
No one wanted to tell me when he would come back.
The great Dante, connoisseur of all the illustrious people’s death and miracles, thinks that he’s dead and he’s now in the eight circus of Hell, the one of the authors of fraud. But I wary of who is known for compose his work under the influence of hallucinogens. Not to mention Homer: since he’s been a prisoner of the goddess Fame and the worship money, he makes up a lot of nonsense about himself.
He makes people believe that he’s back to Ithaca and, despite some misadventure with Cyclops, Gods and Mermaids, we are still a united family, but this is not the case. No one is coming back, I am sure of that; meanwhile I am surrounded by satyrs ready to kill their own children, just to tie me to a bed and raping me while a wear my husband’s crown. I don’t want this to happen. Until now, they’ve always been too focused on me to realize I am tricking them every night, when I undo the canvas I weave all day under they impatience eyes. Every night, but not that night. I fall into a sleep, so deep that Nobody came in my dreams. I just heard a reassuringvoice coming from the dark: it was suggesting me something but soon it was interrupted by a white light and a strident metal sound that stood me over. I couldn’t open my eyes or ignore that unbearable noise. It lasted almost three seconds, then slice again, dark and sleep.
When I woke up, I saw the nurse undoing the canvas and Argo jumped on my bed to play with me. Usually it’s suspicious and all that care made me think of the happy-making words in the night. Euriclea was an expert in the interpretation of dreams: with her eyes focused on the loom, she asked me if the voice I heard coming from the dark prophesied the encounter with an horse and also if he suggested me to walk the island three times with Argo, following the sound of the wind and the low rhythm of the sea. She seemed like she knew everything. I nod in silence, amazed. – Maybe he came back!- she said in a low voice. – They say, in the official version of the Odyssey, that Nobody will come in your dreams, but only a voice will tell you how to facilitate his return. They say that Nobody will show you the way, but Argo and a horse, the same built by Athena for the Troy’s venture, will bring you to him. Then, hostage of money and fame, Homer would modify the first draft of the opera, but maybe Destiny already approved the plot!
Heard the news, I wore a white robe, no sandals, I called Argo with a whistle and we went out from the back’s door, to avoid the contact with the satyrs who were waiting in the lobby foaming at the mouth. I turned twice or three times but I didn’t stop; I could see the palace smaller and smaller, a little more than six feet, and then there was the so expected sound, a nitrite. It was a beautiful white exemplary: the famous Trojan horse. We slowed down until it reached us. We were perfectly aligned and we followed the rhythm of the sea, as the prophecy said. It was a dance with the same moves, soft and convinced. Convinced that the voice suffocated by the wind would help us to find him.
I saw the palace going further and then nearer a couple of times. Tha path was almost finished, Nobody in the distance…
I felt lonely and with an uncontrolled sprint I started running. Very fast imagines passed by me melting in a rainbow full of colors. Animals followed me always aligned, we left very deep signs on the sand and I could feel my heart beating for hope.
Suddenly we stopped, leaving a deeper groove. A man on the ground was breathing heavily and he was shaking from the cold. They could be everyone or Nobody. The shy Argo gave me courage, he smelled his face and he stood by his side. There was just one way to see if it was him: I kneeled, I looked him in the eyes and I asked him- What’s your name, stranger? – With a reassuring and feeble voice, like the one in my dream, he just answered - Ὀδυσσεύς - It was the most beautiful confirmation. Nobody, wanted to tell me when he would come back. Nobody, showed me the way to find him. Nobody, appeared in my dreams that night
 It’s still that fraud of Homer who proposed a distorted version of reality when, in the book XIX, he tried to explain the etymology of the name “Odyssey”, from greekὈδυσσεύς, like the “one who hates” (in this case, the satyrs) or “the one who is hated” (from everyone who hopes he won’t come back to Ithaca). But actually, the truth lies in a thin and extraordinary accordance. “Odyssey” recall the greek word “oud-eis”, which means “nobody”. From that, the famous ruse that Ulysses put in place to escape from the clutches of Polyphemus, Poseidon’s son, God of the sea.
“Oud-eis” : "Nobody" is my name: my mother, my father and all my friends call me Nobodyi.
And he told me withacruel heart: nobody will be the last I’ll eat. This will be my hospitality gift. (Odissea libro IX)