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A story of my city... (according to Migjen)

A story of my city... (according to Migjen)

By Luciano Boçi

Kalashnikov song again in the capital of Northern Albania.
An attempted murder followed by multiple murders, accompanied by the suffering of a city that has never surrendered its joy for life.
Nothing random.
We are now in the order of order (murderer) and not of the regulation of order (which does not exist).
For some time now, in Shkodër, a waiting has been felt like anxiety...
Awkward and annoying, but waiting for the moment to be fulfilled.
Built and embedded with rape these years, the tension carries with it the question embedded "in the brains of people":
When will the music of crackles and murderous barrages begin?
At breakfast, lunch or dinner?
Because they have long become the ruling refrain of this unique city.
The Migjenian beggar feels terribly outcompeted by the new Venetian "music".
"When the morning rolls through the streets of the city, the rays of the sun begin to tangle through people's legs, the shadows of automobiles and carts begin to slide across the ground - then a chorus begins among the sidewalks, the beautiful chorus of my city."
And this music is neither classical, nor cheerful folk, nor jazz or techno.
It is the music of Rama e Benet's renaissance period in Shkodër.
The music that the criminalized politics brought to Shkodran as a fish of power, killing not only their lives, but also the peace and joy of life.
The music that Migjeni would ironically ironize as "...give me something":
"Who can express the beauty of this refrain?" Mozart, Beethoven…hahaha! Only the sidewalks of my city can sing this melody, and only our citizens can hear it. And enjoy.
I sang music to our citizens a lot. They listen to the same chorus from morning to night and never get bored.
They have never given the roads (and money) to a singer. No!- because they are music lovers. This chorus sounds especially beautiful in the evening twilight: the streets of the city take on a romantic decoration (as they are depicted in colorful paintings), people, enjoying the day life, go to enjoy the night life as well, the sky laughs like a virgin and everyone's lips are ready to kiss her, there is a kiss of love...and in the middle of it all: the beautiful chorus of my city. Are you able to imagine all this happiness for yourself?”
And we must uproot this "Benetian" music, because it is the "music" that holds the fate of the city hostage, and give the city the joy of playing its music of life from morning to dinner, the music that has given him the image with which we imagine and love Shkodra

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