BLOGGING

I have had several blogs in my life.
For hobby, for diaries, for artistic culture, for poetry, to discuss ..
Some have had a good following, others have been completely snubbed.
However, they all died the moment parts of me completed their cycle.
From there I understood one thing.
Pass what you are.
Whether you put your voice in it or even just a keyboard.
There is a spirit in things that communicates beyond words; which cannot help being perceived when the content is consistent with the container, and vice versa.
Otherwise you can become whoever you want. You can study the techniques and adopt emulations, but you are left a lot emotionless and lifeless.
It is no coincidence that the least durable blogs have always been those in which I did not write on instinct. I didn't follow my nature.
And this applies to everything.
Career, relationships, friendship.
Sooner or later the body lets you know if you are doing everything wrong, and if you are careful you know how to understand when to get back in the office.
It is from the dawn of time that the Sages repeat one and only teaching in different words or doctrines: know yourself, give birth to yourself.
Don't fight. Not processed. Don't pretend.
But, know who you are.
Because if you're looking for joy, if you want to deal with freedom, authentically do what you do, that's where you have to be.
In total honesty of yourself.

I DELETED MY BLOG

I deleted my blog, with 2300 followers, because the dialogue was over. Because writing in English I wanted to reach more people and I couldn’t do it by having an Italian blog. Now here I say everything I think, as a woman, as an artist, as a professional. I want to express every part of me, tell about me, my life, and my thoughts. I don’t care that I have lost so many followers, this is not important, but it is the essence that we explain that survives. Anything could happen to us every day and I want to fix my existence here.

I HAD ANOTHER BLOG

My blog was born as an artistic space but nobody cares about art. I also had a blog with all my works but it didn’t matter to anyone. I also said that I would burn my paintings but no feminist or association said a word. I have no friend or I would have given them all as a gift, as I did some time ago. I never wanted to make money with my art. For me it was just a way to vent my pain. And also my paintings and all the things I did. Now I’m tired of creating useless things. Nobody cares about my life. I could be dead and no one would notice. People got bored with me. My German Shepherd puppy gives me more satisfaction than a lot of fake people. There was a user who wrote to me that “HUMAN GENDER IS GOING TOWARDS A POSITIVE EVOLUTION” So then he called me a pessimist. So apparently it is only I who now see the human disaster where it has come. Maybe everyone else is blind. So I take a step back and leave all this scum to their positive evolution and I step aside and think about my own business. It is not a defeat but every now and then you have to take a break. What I was doing was important to you, to me and to some haggard whore. For the rest, everyone was there to comment with monosyllables and smilies at the end. No dialogue. See, this is my trouble. I am sociable, still too sociable, and I expect to have a dialogue with people. But some believe me to be superb, pretentious, dominant. And all this because I had different life experiences from theirs. Then some when they know that I am not looking for money they almost consider it an affront. As if having money you can live well. On the other hand, they do not understand that inner well-being cannot be bought with money. I can have it all but I still don’t heal. My heart no longer exists. I live only for my son and my husband. Only for them. For me to exist or not to exist is the same. I don’t differentiate between life and death, they are just two different types of energy but the source is the same. I have lived with such strong emotions and even ecstasy you know, mystical ecstasy, seriously. And then? I have never used drugs, I have never taken anything, not even opiate drugs or psychiatric drugs. For my anxiety I use a simple tranquilizer, which I only lose if I have severe anxiety attacks. I have a very normal life: husband, son, dogs, cats, garden, swimming pool, vegetable garden, cellar, … I don’t drink and I don’t smoke. Never caught anything strange or poisonous. I have had friends who are alkist and sadistic artists as well as ordinary artists. My inspiration came only from my pain. My fantasy originated only from my pain. The pain of abuse lasts for a lifetime. I used my pain to do good to others. I am at peace with myself. I wanted to help other people but I couldn’t. If people want to listen to Chiara Ferragni’s advice, let them listen to her. People have the right to choose. I don’t want to save anyone anymore. What happens will happen. I had to stop in every sense. The pain resurfaced. There are bad dreams, bad things about my unconscious memories that come back to the surface. But I’ll be fine, I’ll continue to paint trying to keep the shadow of my executioner away. But I don’t want to talk to people anymore. They don’t deserve my words.

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