More than once I turned down the opportunity of fortune or, let’s say, a certain financial security. Here are three examples. The first was with Paris Vision. The owner, Mr. Georges, if I remember his name correctly, offered me a career in the company. With a little determination and my knowledge of languages I knew I could have become an excellent organizer of Paris Vision and earned some good money, but I turned it down. The second opportunity occurred in Australia, at the European School of Languages, in fact. The parents of Rebecca G. ( whose mother, Mrs. G., in order to get to know me, had attended one of my French courses for two years, even though she knew French better than me) wanted to marry me off to their only daughter, and if I had accepted, a villa and half a million dollars would have been included in the package. Rebecca, who taught English at my school, was apparently in love with me but I, unfortunately, was not in love with her. So I turned down this splendid offer. The third occasion also concerned my school. I had somehow, instinctively, turned into a miser, something which had always been totally alien to my nature but which developed once money started to fall into my pockets so easily. Then I would feel a greedy shiver, the call of money demanding more money. I no longer wanted to spend, I just wanted to save, pile it up, put money in the bank. I got to the point where I would even deny myself the purchase of a book that I really wanted! In short, I no longer recognised myself. So I sold the school, putting an end to the temptation to become yet another worshipper of the god of egoism.

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Everyone has his borderline experiences. I had had one of these in Paris a few years before I started working as a tourist guide for Paris Vision. My existential angst, which I had long been keeping under control by sheer will power, suddenly exploded. Then a nauseating, gloomy, intolerable vision of life took hold of me, possessed me. There was no escape from it. I hated everything, death above all. Just the idea of it terrified me, made me feel powerless, rebellious, neurotic. I felt trapped, couldn’t free my mind and my gut of these destructive, negative feelings. I even despised the world that man had constructed, a world that I knew something of by then, having had personal experience of it. I knew what it meant to work, to struggle to survive. I tried to find an acceptable comparison between living with human animals and living with animal animals, such as goats, and I couldn’t find one. Goat society seemed to me to be a million times better than human society. Goats don’t kill each other, they live pacifically together. I had become convinced that any other animal on earth, however brutal, could not possibly have created such a false, bestial society.

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Today I am in possession of three diplomas, two from universities and one from a college: one I obtained in Australia, at the Holmes College of Melbourne, one in Spain, from the Universidad Complutense de Madrid, and one in Italy from the Università per Stranieri di Perugia. I have no idea what they are worth. Perhaps nothing, perhaps they are just pieces of paper and nothing more. But I have never been interested in qualifications. Whenever I took an exam the challenge was always with myself. I wasn’t desperate to get a diploma, I was desperate for knowledge; it wasn’t for the professors that I racked my brains, but because I needed to satisfy my hunger for knowledge. I wanted to understand the world, I wanted to know languages, to understand peoples, life, everything. My motto was and still is: I don’t know, therefore I suffer.

At any rate, and without wishing to offend educational institutions, I regard myself as self-taught. I did not meet the writers and people who transformed me, formed me, opened my eyes and revolutionized my existence in schools or universities but in real life and in the course of my reading. The books that I have read and the experiences that I have had have been my teachers; they are what have given meaning to my life, illuminated it.

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