You may have wondered: why does everything have to happen so quickly in television programs? Why are guests constantly pressed and pushed to be brief, more and more synthetic, to speak for a few seconds, and then immediately after they are interrupted, because we have to RUN in advertising?
I think the reason is very simple:
haste is in itself a powerful fear intensifier.
Communicating this permanent state of agitation, determined by the lack of time, increases the spectator's state of alarm, and that is ultimately his fear.
Every new event actually arouses concern in human beings, teases us, disturbs us, and so it should push us to UNDERSTAND what is happening, making us grow.
That is, fear is not in itself a bad thing, if it helps us to broaden and deepen our knowledge of reality.
But here the intent is not this at all, here the intent is pure and simple Manipulation, that is, we want to push people to believe very unbelievable things, and to do things they would never want to do.
So mass communication uses the most basic and most effective tools of manipulation:
first of all, as we said, increase fear, keep people in a permanent state of alarm and uncertainty,
so everything has to happen quickly,
there must never be time to think deeply, to better understand what is happening;
then you have to obsessively repeat the same message, but always in a hurry: repeating the stimulus is the most archaic of the means of mental coercion, and propaganda like advertising uses it without any scruple.
When you've put the person in a state of permanent fear, you have to weaken them, somewhat by blaming them: after all, it's your fault if things go so badly; a little flattering her: you are good at doing what I tell you; somewhat isolating it, both presently and emotionally, creating conflicts that turn everyone against everyone, and then increasing it by confusing it with the hasty increase of news that we can never delve into, because there is no time, and we have to RUN into advertising.
Every deviant consideration with respect to the repeated stimulus must be condemned, abrogated, ridiculed, mocked, trivialized, categorized as fake, also shown but in a context that shows its inconsistency, and in the end possibly marginalized from any honorable communication: their dirty and crazy environments of maniacs, narcissists, antisocials, provided however that they do not violate (our, increasingly strict) laws ......
At that point the Manipulator must offer a solution, a way out, which may appear as the only salvation to the poor victim, now exhausted and desperate, who will therefore at that point do what he would never have done in a decent state. serenity, and inner freedom.
Perhaps approving and even thanking his Executioner.
What a horror!
How can we react to this now so shameless system of Manipulation?
We have in a certain sense already indicated it:
Immediately slow down the induced mental frenzy.
Therefore, practice meditation and deep prayer with renewed intensity, simply to clear our poor minds and save them from the poisonous stings of universal Manipulation.
Furthermore, study the issues in depth, seeking different sources, comparing them with great calm and serenity, precisely scientifically, with the true method of rational verification.
Also keep the memory of what Manipulation proposes, and unmask its continuous contradictions, and its pure and simple and truly far-fetched and sometimes scandalous lies.
Finally, always returning to one's deepest feeling, to ask ourselves: but this thing they want to push me into, this conviction that they are so obsessively injecting into me (and excessive repetition is already pure violence in itself), how does it resonate in my heart? in my stomach? how do I feel, beyond the mental intoxication induced by the propaganda?
When we have created a large enough critical mass, which has the strength to follow these small spiritual tricks, and to aggregate in a spirit of friendship, we can begin to challenge the System of Lies in completely new, unprecedented, creative, and overwhelming ways.
Many of us are already working, in reality, with great joy and great confidence, to prepare an exciting Season of Refreshment, of Human Restoration.


I write. When you have inspiration, you don't have to block it. It's like blocking a raging river, an erupting volcano, a band of protesters during what can be called a revolution.
We all lead a life that sooner or later will have to undergo analysis. This can be defined as the right moment, indeed the perfect moment, that is the night.
I stop, I look outside, the night upsets me too much. These stars are too beautiful. The sun goes down and thoughts rise. I think the night is the sweet spot for everyone.
Wise friend and kind adviser and at the same time despair of insomnia and unexpected nightmares. The night.
I am writing by interrupting myself very often, making many full stops, leaving what should be obvious and obvious slightly in suspense. But that's how it is at night.
You want to clarify, wriggle between your problems and your paranoia but she makes you a barrier of stars, engulfs you in her luminous shadow and takes you into her galaxy.
He puts a full stop and removes that strange squiggle that makes up the question mark. It ends your hopes and fuels them at the same time.
He does some strange things tonight.
God, thank you for having created the night, a forbidden and inaccessible place for those who do not dream and a place of enchantment and wonder for free minds. For brave, bold and fearless spirits.
Give me strength tonight too.
Tonight I know that you are my friend, sweet darkness, cradle me and put me to sleep, take the reins of my life and take me far where no one knows.
Make me yours and make me a star because I want to shine and bring peace.


By now it is understood
Mankind will soon become extinct,
People suffer for love,
People don't have children anymore and if they do they are treated like toys,
People who love pass for weak people, in fact there are few left
Betrayal is the order of the day and this action is more protected,
The right people always get made fun of, Good people look like a jerk,
Lying is considered more correct than telling the truth,
The boys have no plans,
Women often want to be treated badly because they like having a badboy by their side without thinking about the future,
Men only want to have a woman as an outlet and not as a shoulder to lean on in times of need, face obstacles together build a family, None of that.
My generation has literally burned, like the first one and like those to come... education has changed, we no longer respect each other either in the family or outside the home
And unfortunately there are things that cannot be saved, and this is one of them.


Eyes of the heart inside a ring,
They wrote sad words of sin:
The wrong time,
The wrong beat,
The wrong night It was raining and you were crushed.
The wind was deserted,
the night dark,
You had a thought that warmed up,
You took it with you inside the hotels of iron.
And then he came,
with a shadow in his heart,
devouring donuts,
devouring the dust of ancient houses.
You wanted to escape the grave,
and your rose was still alive.
Then the flower turned daisy yellow,
Wine had the last drop on his heart And the car went into the ravine.





Crazy people,




Those like this live on kindness, sharing.

Free souls, at peace with each other and with mother nature.

Graceful spirits in harmonious connection with each other.

Burning with life, hungry for beauty.

Those who have left

the handrail for some time

and they don't remember the way they went

let alone that of the return.

Masters and slaves of the truth

Rarity in short.


The Moth Animal Spirit can relate to the secrets you hold deeply within yourself and the knowledge and wisdom you have acquired over the years. It can represent your attraction for good and evil and the frailty you feel with every choice, your faith and determination, and is also associated with clairvoyance and psychic abilities.
The Moth represents the truth that you cannot see because you find yourself groping in the dark, but when the rest is illuminated, everything becomes as clear as day.
The Moth also represents your passions and the things that give you pleasure.
This Animal Spirit is full of initiative and determination. Nothing will stop him from getting what he wants, even if it means being consumed by fire. Your totem pole wants you to be bold and brave.

Don't let your fear of rejection or failure stop you from getting what you want! You have the gift of attraction. If you commit and focus on what you want, you can easily attract the people and energies that will help you come out triumphant.


It burns.
He wants new life:
this is my heart.

Yet I know how much it can be her golden shower
yet it is discouraged in front of revealing itself, 
saying it is eager,
to the longing to return to peaks of joy irradiated with the light of love.

As the caterpillar forces the shell to come out, 
it must be my heart:
 it must become aware of itself and understand that it is worth, 
and reclaim its joy.


Hard rock,
a gentle constant,
beloved unknown,
Veiled touch,
the different girl,
as he dances he looks out.
And he is inside her
and wants to climb a mountain.
But do you really want to climb it?
The different girl misses a simple step.
It is resumed.
The rain comes down,
he also goes down to the mountain where he waits for the start.
But he's only in his head,
he tells her bad things,
she falls and gets hurt.
He comes out of the dance room,
cut in two by this conflict:
to be with him or to be with herself?
Time goes fast,
the other dancers follow the hands,
she is still sitting in the locker room, she doesn't know what to do.
The rain comes harder,
he falls from the mountain,
there he is at his feet, he's a tiny being,
like a little elf,
it's her Ego, and it's dancing for her,
just for her.
The different girl smiles.
She gets up and goes back to the room, light,
sweet, a feather of a cloud.


Eyes to the sky, a dark sky, without stars. The silence, dark and cold, with no more screeching. A window that separates me from that world that fits me tight. Nothing to upset me. Me, the silence and the coolness of a April dressed in November. The arms resting on the railing and the head that slowly becomes heavy. What’s giving out? The heart, the mind or the body? And perhaps in the end it is the heart that carefully chooses the most painful moments, those moments in which to turn off because enduring is no longer allowed, because at a certain point endurance is no longer human. And anger arrives, pain arrives, tears arrive, disappointment arrives and loneliness also arrives, because anyone in front of your pain does not understand and yells at you. Or maybe in the end the problem is just you, who always believe so innocently that you are so hurt that you don’t want anything anymore. In the end, it’s not even worth it anymore. The lights beyond that window go out, the screams cease, and you can go back to lie down on a bed drenched in hidden tears.

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