I wasn’t there but I remember. I remember the feeling of powerlessness in front of those moving pictures of violence and distruction.
I wasn’t there but I could feel the fear and the pain, we, those who lived (t)here, knew and felt that something tragic would have happened. What other could happen after you’ve built up walls in the hearth of a city, walls made up to separate and not to protect, walls made up not to see, not to listen.
I’m astonished in front of the brutal actions done by human beings but I’m even more astonished in front of those done protected by the uniform. Could you really be justified for such painful actions just because you were following orders? Where do YOU start, you, with your moral sense of justice?
Everything really happened. In Genoa.