The Bullet Biter

10:03 Happy couple jogging in the park. They’re drunk on a cocktail of oxytocin and protein shakes. They share a penchant for leisurewear. I bet they have a joint Instagram account, where they post pictures with caption such as: “Couples who run together, stay together”. I hope they keep running. Away from me, if possible. 10:09 Man who is shorter than me (this doesn’t happen often). He is dressed in black from head to toe. He is sporting a suspiciously fresh haircut and he’s clearly feeling himself. That makes one of us. 10:15 Man walking three French pugs (they’re all identical). He has a face tattoo (who did you kill while in jail?), tracksuit bottoms tucked into ankle-length sponge socks and a rolled-up beanie hat. I am sure there’s an interesting backstory somewhere there. 10:21 Mother of two accompanied by her ageing single friend. She is forced to push a buggy and engage in a conversation about poo-stained nappies. Her eyes are soulless, a permanently sorrowful grim is stamped o

Is there anything more pathetic than an aging child prodigy? If I had to pinpoint the exact moment when the seeds of self-delusion were planted, I would probably have to go back to 2002, to a musty reception room in a small town elementary school on the outskirts of Naples, where a well-meaning teacher solemnly announced to my mother: “I have no doubt that he will become someone.” I didn’t know what that meant but my mother ecstatically repeated it to my dad that night at dinner, who in turn reported it to my grandmother - next thing I knew, I was unofficially elected “most likely to succeed” in my family (which also translates to ‘’most likely to have a nervous breakdown in his early 20s when the realities of adult life will inevitably dismantle the castle of expectations cemented with years of groundless predictions on the future success of a child whose only interest at present is Pokemons and Mars bars).   Eighteen years later, I can confidently tell you that the level of self-delu