Until Tuesday I had the pass, I could enter and out of the tent as I wanted, I was still allowed to stay. Monday night I decided to stay for dinner the last time with my friends.
I had never done, I felt like a thief. A person who uses a service to those who really need it. There was confusion, the hearts were really in turmoil because of the latest directives. They're closing the camps and no one can come to live there. Who is sent away, is sent to Avezzano, in Marsi Luco, even 70 km distant cities, which are unable to reach loved ones every day. Of this they were talking about a man with a house and a man unfit for civil protection. How absurd it is to send men of eighty and ninety years away from their children, alone, without the slightest hope of seeing their city, one in which they lived for a lifetime.
Tuesday was cold, and I was a thief, because other people in a corner of the table, people were complaining that although they were in their homes, continued to go to eat in the canteen. It is not right, it is true, but I wanted to be with my friends, at least last night there. When I left the pass I was told that I can no longer enter the tent city in itself, will have to come get the person at the gate that I visit, and I can not stay there for more than ten minutes. It 'just, sacred because otherwise the fields will not dismantle anything, but my cuore piange. Non ci stanno cazzi.
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