A LITTLE HUGH

I feel a little sad this evening because I realize that I am a little creature in the face of things we have always struggled with: time, death, love, destiny, life in general, injustices, evil, suffering etc. etc. I feel a little crying because I know that this life is as beautiful as it is sad and we have so little time that sometimes we waste it without realizing it. We could say that we really love that person who has been around us for a long time, we could help that someone because more unfortunate than us without being overwhelmed by arrogance and selfishness, we could decide for once to improve someone’s life because (yes never knows) that that person hasn’t been smiled in a long time. We could teach someone to walk on their own legs, even if they need a little nudge at first, we could just hug each other a little bit more without adding a word too much, because the power of a warm hug is often underestimated. We could do many things that we don’t do, but still remain in the memory of those who have us, each in their own small way, loved until the end. Each of us, as can.

INNOCENT TULIP

An innocence stained by a dark past. I can still hear the devil whispering wicked advice into my ear. My heart gradually became corrupted until it became a black hole. All that remains of me is a ravenous monster, haunted by a visceral desire to harm someone. The stomach quivers, eager to taste the taste of blood. The hands tremble with a knife, while gently brushing the delicate skin with the sharp blade, fully enjoying every moment. The cries of pain are music to my ears; an intoxicating melody that inhibits the senses. It is an iniquitous and malicious gesture, the fruit of a mind devoid of sense and a soul infected by the evil one. It takes little to shatter such fragile bones. With one creak after another I reduce you to dust, a putrid mass of dreams and hopes shattered under the weight of my shoes. There are those who would hope for a faster death, but you beg for torment; the more harm I inflict on you the more you ask for and I gladly grant you an atrocious end, because it wouldn’t be fun if you finished too quickly. Ah, the harm I could do to you if I only wanted to. In this sensitive and naive world it is so easy to break such a delicate heart. But the part of you that is dying is only your innocence, because soon you will become like me: a vicious creature, stirred up by a blind rage to bring about extermination and desolation. How sweet is the taste of death on my lips, it is a kiss of Judas what I give you. I reach you with the promise of a love, but the gift you will get will be only that of regret.

PENNY DREADFUL

Penny Dreadful is a real masterpiece! A thriller series where, in a gothic and dark London, the paranormal meets and intertwines in the lives of some of the most terrifying characters of literature, keeping the viewer glued to the screen, sometimes even against his will.

The series takes its name and inspiration from the "penny dreadful" short horror novels distributed weekly at low prices to the London bourgeoisie of the nineteenth century. Products of dubious literary taste, but which gave birth to some scary characters such as vampires or Sweeney Todd.
An unrivaled Eva Green, who in 2016 won a Golden Globe for the role, in the role of Vanessa Ives is engaged in a constant search and fight against vampires, witches, immortal beasts and evil spirits. Accompanying her is Sir Malcolm Murray, father of a childhood friend, Ethan Chandler, an American with great skill with firearms, Abraham Van Helsing, Doctor Victor Frankenstein, busy bringing dead bodies to life, and a controversial Dorian Gray.
Vanessa has a special task: to fight against evil and make sure that it does not take possession of her. She prays day and night but she can't do it alone. So here comes he, the LUPUS DEI, the one who will help her stay in the light. But will the divine messenger be able to help her?

BORN IN THE STONE

So ready to disappear
I was
so featherweight
and apologize to the skin
with every dust of air
for undue occupation,
so impressed by the transparency
I was
to make glass
tersissimo
to dazzling mornings
and smell of wave
between propped bodies.
So strictly useless
the soul
my
to keep it green next to it
in the long course of the so-called
dating
without any unhinging
of speech.
"Then? Then?"
Then
I slipped out
in hard peel
world skin,
I make a silence
on evil,
a cloak
of insolent beauty
terrestrial.
I cannot command
this flow
it is a great work
of clear yield
with a majestic current,
I am a word to the light
I was born.

RESIST, REBEL, EXIST

 

WHEN THE PEOPLE TAKES INTO THE STREETS AND CRIES YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO HIM.

BUT WHO GOVERNS A DICTATURE DOES NOT LISTEN. 

ITALY WILL SOON HAVE ALL PORTS BLOCKED TO PROTEST AGAINST THE GREEN PASS.
The well-known Italian television director, Colabona, creator of successful programs for both Rai and Mediaset, in an interview-complaint in April 2009, released to the television station Napoli TV, highlighted the above phenomenon. In fact, he stated:

 “Pay attention to all those messages that we television directors give you because they are almost never reality. We want you to believe that reality is what we tell you through our programs but it is not quite so. Behind the scenes of the programs, a television is being made that is objectively leading us all to cultural degradation (…). We all accept to be inside a system which we do not have the courage to oppose and which suits us. However, let's face it, they give us the money to keep you from thinking ”.

WOMAN IS THE “N” OF THE WORLD

Even now women are victims of a system that oppresses them. War is one of the many means by which the oppression of women takes place who are considered spoils, slaughter fodder, their abused bodies. This violence has no limits, it is the worst form that exists. Women who see their freedom canceled. Useless years of study. Unit sacrifices. Useless jobs. Useless clothes. Any free choices that women have made until now are useless. The war - and the men who fly it - have taken it all. They steal and erase female freedom. Men who have the power to annihilate women, their stories, their choices. The influence men have on women's lives is frightening. They are the masters and exercise this power of life or death with extreme wickedness. They are women whose life is over. Many will be sold. They will be given in marriage by little girls. They won't go home. They will end up in prostitution. They will be forced into the worst violence. And they will have to undergo everything in silence, in the blackest terror, without any hope.

I am furious because now I am sitting on my beautiful sofa writing a stupid papyrus which is useless, which will not help any woman. I'm furious because I can't save any woman with words. Because using a fucking keyboard is useless. And while I choose which stupid shirt to wear, a hundred other women will suffer and die because others will choose for them.

A strong thought full of pain and hope goes to Afghan women with the hope that one day the world will accept all of us women as an integral part and not as a category to be oppressed.

Germaine Greer wrote: "Women have only a small idea of ​​how much men hate them."
Limited education, prohibition of certain types of clothing, restrictions on freedom of movement. To fall under the control of the Taliban again means this for Afghan women, who have taken to the streets to oppose the advance of Islamic fundamentalists. In the days when the foreign armed forces left the country, they marched along the city streets in the north and center of Afghanistan carrying rifles. The most popular demonstration in Ghor, where hundreds of women, marching with weapons along the streets of the center, chanted slogans against the Taliban. “There were some women who just wanted to inspire the security forces, only symbolically. But many others were ready to go to the battlefields, ”said Halima Parastish, head of the women’s leadership in Ghor, in the statement reported by the Guardian. “I and some other women – she added – we told the governor, about a month ago, that we are ready to go to fight”. “I don’t want the country to be under the control of people who treat women the way they do. We took up arms to show that if we have to fight we will do it, ”a reporter later declared.
It is not obvious to say that war, like evil, only brings out the worst in people, capable of showing their true nature without hesitation, in a state of suspended judgment. The strongest oppress the weakest, it has always been like that. And in the whirlwind of clichés, one from last August 15th echoes more than the others. With the takeover of Kabul by the Taliban, women are in grave danger. Everything that the Afghan women are or have conquered is raided day after day, in an all-encompassing process of depersonalization; they are objects for man’s use and consumption, they must satisfy their pleasures and to define them as sexual.
It is not obvious to say that war, like evil, only brings out the worst in people, capable of showing their true nature without hesitation, in a state of suspended judgment. The strongest oppress the weakest, it has always been like that. And in the whirlwind of clichés, one from last August 15th echoes more than the others. With the takeover of Kabul by the Taliban, women are in grave danger. Everything that the Afghan women are or have conquered is raided day after day, in an all-encompassing process of depersonalization; they are objects for man’s use and consumption, they must satisfy their pleasures and to define them as sexual.
Islamists have given “numerous warnings”: women and their families are threatened with death or torture if they go to work. The fighters do not warn twice, they go directly to action, staining even the most wicked acts such as necrophilia. All this seems to be confirmed by the warlords’ order to hunt girls aged 12 and over to make them sex prisoners, after the surrender of the Afghan government and the abandonment of the last US military troops. Rape, in reality, could only be the beginning of a long hell. Then, after the sexual violence, the same can be sold or sold as part of some commercial negotiation, such as weapons or drugs. Omar Sadr, who is a professor of politics at the American University of Afghanistan (no one knows how much …) argues that “the Taliban fighters feel authorized to do all this on the basis of their rigid interpretation of Islam, which sees women as kaniz », that is as a commodity.

STORY OF A DEVIL INSIDE THE LAKE

"At the beginning there was a great ocean on which brave winds blew and storm waves rose. Then, as the years went by, gradually the water decreased and new lands stood to limit the ocean, transforming it into a closed sea. Still other years passed and the boundaries narrowed more and more and the pain absorbed more drops of salt water. The water was still, there were no more storms and the breath of the winds was far away and he could not cross the mountains to get to the sea.
More years passed and the pain dried up more drops, turning the closed sea into a salty lake. Few fish remained and the water was now thick and dark, impenetrable. Still other years carried away more water and in place of the lake remained a stinking and evil pool where no fish and no plants had survived.
More years followed and the unbridgeable pain narrowed the pool to a tiny, devious and agonizing puddle.
Eventually, after the last few years of suffering, only a drop remained on the hard and parched ground. It slipped into a crack and no one ever saw the clear eyes of the dead fairy shine on that desert.
After many years a strange spirit came out of that crack, an evil spirit, an inhuman demon who wore the fake smile of the fairy on his lips. He went around and brought death to those who had ruined the soul of his divine companion. He avenged her and no one noticed who that being actually was who at first glance seemed a girl like the others, but like the others she was not and obtained every revenge with her evil power. "
Where had that drop of water disappeared?
One day a tiny green tuft appeared and grew slowly. But after a short time it had already become a great, beautiful tree, a lush oak.
A girl passed by and saw that huge tree in the middle of the deserted field. He walked over and sat down at his feet. He took his guitar off his shoulder and started playing. When the sun went down she went home. After that, however, the girl often came back from her tree and sang a thousand songs for her friend oak, then she went more rarely.
A few leaves fell from the branches of the oak.
During a dark night strange black flowers sprouted on the now bare branches. One after the other they opened their petals. The little girl came and although the black flowers had all blossomed she did not even notice them. The next day the flowers withered and fell to the ground. The petals crumbled under the scorching sun but something remained on the ground: seeds. Each branch of the oak withered away. The oak died.
After a long time the little girl passed. This time she realized that her friend oak was all dry and started to cry because she realized that somehow it was her fault. Some tears fell on a seed. This, made smooth, slipped into a crack in the ground. The little girl started singing a sad song and then went away forever.
During the night a snow storm crossed the mountains and reached the arid ground and gelled it, covering it with thick layers. But under that hard and cold glass surface the dark seed opened and let out many tiny colored filaments, which spread in various directions creating an underground branching. Thus a wonderful new tree grew, underground, bigger than the oak from which it was born but no one ever saw it.
But people say that on certain dark nights, when the moon is not there, a sad melody is heard carried away by the wind. And from the surface of the lake come out of the light beams that rise towards the sky like arms of light

A WHITE LADY

I have lived half my life years now. I have traveled the world. Saw many good and bad things. Experienced with good and bad people. I was abused at 4 years old. But I was saved by art. I loved it very much. People and animals. So much so that I was able to save a lot of people except myself. I have always done everything following my heart but my heart has taken me to a country where I am dying out. I am dependent on vital drugs for me and I cannot marry from this damn nation. I hate being here. I hate my beating heart. I see too many people just looking for money. That’s why I’m alone here. Many have used and exploited me. But I said enough. I have given too much of myself. The world will perish and there is no Gandalf to screen Evil. No brave group to take out the orcs. We human beings are finished now. Machines own people. When I talk about real life and not virtual, they laugh in my face. All. It is normal for them to be on the web 24 hours a day. They consider me strange to me because I prefer to go out and live outside and not inside a screen. But unfortunately there are few left without cell in hand. We are just white flies.

I’M A NAIVE

I am still naive. I discovered reality at 22. They tell me that I am too spontaneous, I have no malice, I am like a child. Many people have exploited, used and abused me. Sometimes I don’t recognize evil, I trust others a lot, I’m a white dove but the others are all snakes. I always pray to God to give me a good heart, only this I need but my good heart causes me a lot of damage because people take advantage of me. There is no girl as naive as me. I tried to change but I couldn’t. I try to help others and in the past I have thought more about others than myself. Art has carried me with it for many years and when I entered the real world I did not know the rules and so I was bewitched by certain people who did not deserve anything of me. I have been wrong so many times and I did not know why, I did not know I was different, because I had been far from the world and I had lived only among the colors. It was very difficult to get close to the real world because I was a poor naive.

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