Look behind my mask!

There live my foster parents, to whom my doctor father had me sent when I was an infant, because he was distracted by my baby writing in his academic work.

Then you can hear the cry, "God, save me from my relatives, I can deal with my enemies myself."

You can find my socialization among the tenement Roma and in inventory there are 4 degrees, 3 children, 1 grandchild, 3 evictions, 11 fractures (6 bone, 5 psychological).

I left the traces of an adventurous life in Palermo and a quarter of a century of Italian work.

You can see the pain of Christmases spent alone for decades, and I no longer have the love gene in me, replaced by a hatred that has become a character.

All of this has caused such a change in my eyes (in the mirror of my soul) that going without glasses is not recommended.