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Lulù Massa: In the factory is annoying, fucking boring, so I work, that's all. This is the idea: life, stripe, goal. All inside the racetrack. Everyone here is running. I'm a little champion. She knows it, right? Then you find the southerns, like him, from east Sicily, they are all outlier, tired since the first morning. So I beat'em on the rate! Once I have earned 25.000 lire of task-work in a month. But running, running... Because I can concentrate myself, I keep my mind busy. I've a method to keep me busy She knows. I just think in a pair of butts. An ass like this. Here, there's nothing to think, what do I have to say? We must work, so do it. With no excuse. Do you understand? Work, with no excuse.
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Lulù Massa: I'm gonna speak now. I don't know how to call you: gentlemen, workers, friends, comrades... I'm gonna speak on the mic. The students out there, say that when we enter is dark and when we exit is dark another time. What kind of life is it? This is routing, but since we are here, why don't we do twice task-work, working in Sundays too, we can enter in the night, with our children and our women. The children works there. And our women put the food in our mouth, so we can work twice, keep running and on and on, for some lire more, and live our life here, working till death. And we'll leave this hell to go to another hell...
Luigi Diberti
Extended Reading
