Territorial pissings

Sometimes words come, but you do not want to say. Because as long as the word is not  pronuonced, you still doubt. But when you say the word, you magically open another world. And sometimes in the new world you do not want to enter. And then you can delay until pronouncing the word that you're thinking. So gone are the days and I have not had the courage to write a word, to write this word. But even to say it to myself. Now I want to write. From now onwards I will enter into another world. And leave the world before. These words are actually 2: territorial pissing.
For those accustomed to travel, the concept is clear. For those accustomed to travel and take pictures or movies, the concept is even more clear. But, in truth, there are thousands of ways and circumstances in which you might encounter these "territorial pissings".
If someone until yesterday pissed on my feet, in solidarity I mean, I thought it was because of the wind. These days I realized that was not the wind, he purposely pissed on my feet to make me understand that this was his territory.
I did not take it. Piss on the feet of someone else is sometimes the only way of communicating that people can express. Needless to blame. I step back, then 3 steps to the side and 2 forwards. And let's see if he still will piss on my feet.
Is not the first time I made this argument in the context of video-documentaries. Does not exhaust the topic. But the terrain is more familiar to me. So I repeat what my vision is. Each documentary (but we should say that every work which is a representation of something else) is composed of 2 things: the observed object and the observing subject. I have no confidence in the idea of being objective. subject. Objective reality is the not observed one only. When you look, the reality becomes subjective. Therefore I do not delude myself to drive out my subjectivity. Therefore I insist the legitimacy of manipulating reality. Where's the scandal? I do not announce as objective a reality manipulated. No, it's clear from the outset. My reality is manipulated, distorted by my eyes. The reference to honesty is something that I solve in the secret of my conscience. Then everyone is free to criticize, appreciate, or hate what I do.
Therefore these "territorial pissings" depresses me deeply in the soul. But I learned to live with it and go forward.
Some years ago I met an Iraqi filmmaker living in Italy who was working on a documentary about Italian partisans, full of old memories of what had been their incredible experiences of young members of the resistance. Over many years I got to know, meet and learn many things about the Italian resistance. Not that I started to pee on the feet of the director of Iraq. On the contrary! Someone, if he were in my place, then would say to the Iraqi director: "ah, but I already know everything about the resistance, I do not need to watch your documentary, because you certainly can not know because you are from Iraq and you can not understand the things that I know". Ah! Ugh, how many times I heard this phrase.
But one thing that made me mad with this documentary: the subjectivity of an Iraqi refugee who tells the Italian Resistance during years of U.S. occupation of Iraq, his country. In other words, is his eyes the thing which really is interesting for me. Understand? This was the most important thing about that job. Besides, it is said that looking at familiar things from another perspective through the eyes of another you can learn something new.
On the contrary, for years I lived in viale Bligny 42, Milan. An incredible place in the heart of the Milan of white collars. A "stronghold", as they call it, with an ancient courtyard inhabited by young people from North Africa and transgender people from South America. The place where I always wanted to tell a story iabout. But perhaps because I lived there I never did.
Well. I moved. I moved a few days. Always in Istanbul. I am living in a new flat now. Because if I really like to refresh my feet I prefer the rain much more than the territorial pissings of somebody else. 

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