WE’LL GO FAR AWAY

Sea of ​​thoughts made of sad realities.
Let's dance until we no longer hear the thoughts but only the sound of our hearts beating in unison, let's leave the sad real world to others and enjoy ours, the two of us together. So that nobody disturbs us we run away, dancing an infinite dance, made of freedom and joy, we run away from that sea of ​​reality that cries us to come back, that dreams end and that they are not real, but I do not listen to it and continue to dance , with you. Our endless dance that cries for the freedom to never go away.

FLYING TO THE MOON

Flying higher and higher to prevent anyone from cutting off my wings. Reaching high and shouting: you did not make it and you will never make it, because My dreams and My freedom are stronger and more powerful than all of you, hypocrites and hopeless! The desire to fly away, to leave, to take any train, any means, the desire to give up everything and start over, to go as far as possible, to forget everything, annihilate the rest, disappear and never return, the desire to get away …
You save your heart yes with a walk but you stop and wait for the world if its shoe is untied and how many clashes, how many efforts strong breaths, keep going for these broken dreams shooting stars are not enough So used to falling that you seem born to get up take you to the sea alone you have the whole world in the air you have sun-shaped eyes if it rains make music and offer the monsters dinner if you are afraid that’s fine and if there is a jump you skip it and if you fall you laugh at it ….

V_V

In his 1998 book The Common Good, Noam Chomsky describes the key role that managed disagreements play in modern politics…

The smart way to keep people passive and obedient is to strictly limit the spectrum of acceptable opinion, but allow very lively debate within that spectrum — even encourage the more critical and dissident views. That gives people the sense that there’s free thinking going on, while all the time the presuppositions of the system are being reinforced by the limits put on the range of the debate…”

This remains true despite the increasingly obvious fact that Chomsky himself is part of that function.

What he’s describing is the “fake binary”. The imposition of the idea that Viewpoint A is the official approved narrative and that Viewpoint B is therefore its antithesis.

Points C through Z can therefore be ignored.

The fact hidden in plain sight being that both Viewpoint A and Viewpoint B actually reinforce the overarching narrative being sold and both lead to the same place.

It’s an incredibly effective management tool.

A fake binary allows you to not just manipulate the conformist Normies who automatically obey, but also those who consider themselves to be ‘anti-establishment’, contrarians or ‘rebels’.

How are fake binaries created? They are often initially introduced by the following methods…

FREEDOM

But what is freedom? I say that it is the possibility of choosing what can make us feel good in our small way, a decision that can go against everyone and everything.
Freedom is something that we must know how to control to make it ours in all respects and to be able to live it in the right way so that it can guide us, taking us far away, to the place where it is captured in its purest essence.
With freedom we go to the rediscovery of deep emotions, great desires and strong experiences.
There is nothing more beautiful than feeling that responsibility on you in having to choose yourself, when you want and how you want, accompanied by that adrenaline energy that flows through your veins and pumps your heart strongly, feeding your soul with joy and admiration. towards the world. Nobody, I mean nobody, must stop us on our way.
A passion, a goal, a dream, a desire are ingredients for the recipe for our success, we must conquer them, with all our strength. So try it, drop everything, indulge in the magic of being free, fill yourself with hope and run towards the journey that awaits you.

DON’T BE OFFENSIVE!!!

I am really very sorry to receive comments in which some people tell me that I am a Nazi just because I want peace or because I am talking about Ukrainian victims.
I ask everyone to respect ideas other than yours. 

Also, I'm sick of being considered a Nazi just because I'm Italian. These prejudices do a lot of harm and it is not right that we are accused in this way in a space that is private to me, where I put my personal things and where I have to feel free to be able to post what I want and not what others expect of me. 

It is really absurd what some people do. They write offensive comments to me and this is only because I have expressed my ideas here about Ukraine. I think we must all have the freedom to be able to talk about our ideas about war. 

Instead a division is happening, again, as has already happened for the covid. So I will not post these offensive and disrespectful comments to my person because I believe there is a different way to accept other people's ideas without insulting. If any of you don't share my ideas then don't follow me.

I don't want to repeat the same things over every post, I'm sick of always having to repeat it for those who can't accept those who have different ideas. I am Italian and I am for peace. I do not accept this Italian government. I did not choose this Italian government and therefore what the Italian government decides does not reflect my will. But I don't always have to come here to write explanations about my position on the war. I'm really tired of repeating the same thing over and over about me and my ideas. I am for peace and not for war.

MY GARDEN WITH HOLES

My garden is full of puddles, holes made by dogs, pieces of branches flown in the storm, bare trees and no flowers because the mice have eaten the bulbs. And I'm very sad that I can't have a nice garden but the weather is awful here. It is very cold and there is already snow on the mountains and yesterday it was only 4 degrees. The house is very humid and even if we heat it later it becomes cold again, it does not keep the heat, it is an old house and it is a torment. Here in my area life is very sad now, especially for me because I don't have the green pass and I can no longer go to the gym, to the theater, to the cinema. I always have to stay at home. Our Italian government has taken away all freedom from us and people like me, who cannot get the vaccine, are limited in everything in life. I am getting depressed and I can't stand this deprivation of freedom. Now in Italy there is this dictatorship that is destroying the country's economy and the people.

ARE YOU REALLY FREE?

 

You are free now, to entrust your soul by penetrating only the first layer of pleasure, free, to have enclosed every moment in your breath, free to slip into dark, hidden, bitter places, to bear the weight of the world alone, while you listen. the music confide in you the secrets you don’t tell, send the senses to addresses where nothing speaks more of you, free to pretend not to know that freedom vanishes when you stop listening to yourself, to believe that duty is the greatest love, to give in to the moral blackmail of a social restriction, erasing all truth, free from what you wanted most of your life, you are free?
What does it mean to be free? Freedom is the ability to act without constraints and impediments. But what does it mean concretely, in everyday life, to be free? I think that in the end the value of freedom can be interpreted differently, or sometimes even misrepresented. For me, freedom is choosing based on my ideas, being who I want to be, living how I want to live. To be able to make mistakes, to suffer, to regret any of these decisions, but to know that it depended solely on me and on what I felt was right. Freedom for me is authenticity. Accept myself, in what I am, including defects, in order to live a life that is mine. And to do this it is necessary to recognize the freedom of the other, what makes him free, although it may seem wrong to me. It is not true that my freedom ends where that of the other begins, but simply recognizing that of the other opens me up to a much greater horizon of freedom. Only in this way can authentic liberation be achieved. And the men who fight to make it happen are heroes. It is not easy to be free, it requires the greatest courage and the greatest responsibility. We have the courage to be free.
But what is freedom? I say that it is the possibility of choosing what can make us feel good in our small way, a decision that can go against everyone and everything. Freedom is something that we must know how to control to make it ours in all respects and to be able to live it in the right way so that it can guide us, taking us far away, to the place where it is captured in its purest essence. With freedom we go to the rediscovery of deep emotions, great desires and strong experiences. There is nothing more beautiful than feeling that responsibility on you in having to choose yourself, when you want and how you want, accompanied by that adrenaline energy that flows through your veins and pumps your heart strongly, feeding your soul with joy and admiration. towards the world. Nobody, I mean nobody, must stop us on our way. A passion, a goal, a dream, a desire are ingredients for the recipe of our success, we must conquer them, with all our strength. So try it, drop everything, indulge in the magic of being free, fill yourself with hope and run towards the journey that awaits you.

I HAD ANOTHER BLOG

I thank you for your closeness and your support. I believe that our freedom will never go back to the way it was before and that now we are the only ones left who know what it is. I see people very happy to be slaves. I see that everyone watches TV and believes in the mass media, they are manipulated and diverted. The dark mind is now mush. I am very sad and in the past I was an artist but now I am dying. I had an art blog with my paintings, I didn’t sell anything, I gave them away. I said that if nobody wanted them I would burn them. I have no real friends here, I didn’t know who to give them to. I wanted to leave them on the street but there was the covid and they would have thrown them away. I said I was missing, that I would burn them, and nobody told me anything. Nobody cared about what I created. I studied art in London, I refused recommendations, I refused a career. I regretted it. One day I wrote to a psychologist who had an association, I told him: “I give you my paintings, they are 50, you sell them and use the money for sick children”. Do you know what he answered me? “You are not famous, you do not get anything out of your paintings.” I regret having rejected my career. And so I burned all my paintings. My artistic blog no longer exists and there are few paintings left in my attic, eaten by mice.
I had a blog with 3000 followers. I said very interesting and important things but people weren't there. There were a lot of them but none of them spoke. I was really disappointed. I wrote very important things but somehow there was no dialogue between them and me. This made me very sad and one day I deleted everything, I deleted the entire blog. These 3,000 people got lost. I don't know if they still exist, I don't know if they looked for me, because I also changed my nickname because I wanted to close with the past, I wanted a new page in my life. But I believe that past has remained and always remains glued to me like a dark shadow.
I was very sorry to close that blog but maybe people didn't expect a woman to talk about certain things. I didn't talk about nails and I didn't talk about actors, not even about cooking, or about many other subjects that women love. I don't regret what I did but a piece of my life has been lost, destroyed, erased.

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.

AMEN

Thanks to my father, I have learned to screw those who think that the world should rotate as their head says, or worse it should rotate around itself. Three sentences and a few attitudes are enough to identify self-reported assholes, a few more behaviors for sneaky or victimized ones. It is not presumption, they are years of parasitization and direct experience with those who do not observe themselves, and in this life they will never do it. Get it out of your head that you can support their path by absorbing their garbage. The sooner you recognize them the sooner you take back your freedom. Nobody can help them, because 95% of the time it's not a solution they are looking for. They just want to pour the non-sense of their existence onto the neighbor (and in that non-sense there can be anything).
Precisely because they turn the root of their problems to everything but themselves, they are unable to be responsible for the harm they do to them and to those around them.
Even if you tell them. It applies to all relationships, know that.

Manzoni  ( ALESSANDRO MANZONI, a famous italian writer of XIX  century) had not seen the plague, but he had studied documents after documents. And then he describes the madness, the psychosis, the absurd theories about its origin, about the remedies. It describes the scene of a foreigner (a "tourist") in Milan who touches a wall of the cathedral and is lynched by the crowd because he is accused of spreading the disease. But there is one thing that Manzoni describes well, above all, and that he takes up from Boccaccio: the moment of trial, of discrimination, between humanity and inhumanity. Boccaccio had indeed seen the plague. He had seen friends, loved ones, relatives, even his father, die. And Boccaccio explains to us that the most terrible effect of the plague was the destruction of civilized life. Because the neighbor began to hate the neighbor, the brother began to hate the brother, and even the children abandoned their parents. The plague pitted men against each other. He replied with the Decameron, the greatest hymn to life and good civilization. Manzoni responded with faith and culture, which do not avoid trouble but, he said, taught how to deal with them. In general, they both responded in a similar way: inviting us to be human, to remain human, when the world goes mad.
Health without Freedom is what is guaranteed to Farm Animals. . This is why they define you as “Herd”. FREEDOM is not a luxury, it is not an extra, an ornament that embellishes if there is, but in short, precisely if one can afford it or else something more comes first concrete.. NO! FREEDOM is your right to live, to work, to be happy, to express yourself, to be there .. what’s more concrete than your right to be there ..? Sometimes I would like to find an arrow indicating “free life”. I don’t know, maybe in the process of some woods, where the light filters through and the heat doesn’t kill you. A kind of guarantee that you are going to meet like-minded people there. People to talk to about everything but vaccines, governments and passes. Just talk to. A place you reach to express absolutely nothing, no opinion, no point of view on hundreds of points of view by now worn and tired. The only thing that sometimes matters is the need for sharing among similar people. Vibrate in the same tribe. Simply because it feels good to be together on the road. Stay in touch with those who look like you and aren’t afraid to hug. Talking without a muzzle, talking about good things, without someone having to convince the other and the other having to defend who knows what. Talk about what seeds you planted, what bullshit you did, the music you wrote or the love at first sight that got you. Thus, without having to find that prosaic sense to the questions of living, the more you think about it the more they have nothing to do with Life.
Yes it’s true, it seems to never end. It seems that humanity is condemned to an eternal struggle just to buy bread. It seems. Lately I often answer with a phrase that I said to myself when I was working, giving exams and in the meantime I had my father in hospital for cancer. Be grateful that you can fight, because you mean you are Alive. No matter how long the fight seems, it is the purpose and the mood with which you face it that make it appear to be war or peace. Choose your path and you will no longer have any doubts that that bread tastes sublime. The whole system is made in such a way that man, without even realizing it, begins as a child to enter a mentality that prevents him from thinking anything else. It turns out that there is no longer a need for dictatorship now, because the dictatorship is that of school, of television, of what they teach you. Turn off the television and gain freedom. Even the way you dress and the haircut you wear makes you realize that you really don’t choose anything. Already becoming aware of this would show the world in other terms.
Keep walking, when you realize it you will already be with your buttocks on the ground, in that uncomfortable position that the puppets hold. Immediately after, a long and obstinate reflection begins on the convenience of staying there on the ground. But the companions are already moving away and the path is far from appearing a clear path, obvious. It is not even in question the idea of ​​staying there all life, with the mud filling the soul and the backpack, so that the time comes to get up, a difficult situation and unpredictable in its results. Perhaps it is better to continue to stay on the ground and drag yourself little by little but, in addition to being not very aesthetic, this is impractical (believe me, I have tried it): there will always be a hidden root or a thorn to hold you back, and then a new reflection on the comfort of sitting in the mud, despite the mosquitoes, flies and blue flies. Already determined to get up, which is always the most difficult thing, comes the complicated operation that consists of resting with your hands and knees where it happens and trying to place the heavy hood on your back (so simple, and heavy, is to carry the house on the shoulders: just a plastic sheet and a hammock). But the backpack insists on carrying other absurd things: some poetry books, some clothes, a mismatched sock, medicine for the world, food, a damp blanket … The load as a whole weighs tons (especially after the first hours of walking) and tends to get muddy whenever he feels like it, that is, almost always. By now tortoise face on the ground, it follows the act of putting one foot and getting up on the other, with the consequent protest of the knees; the horizon then widens and will always be foreign. With the eyes on the ground, the march is undertaken again until the next fall, which will occur just a few steps ahead. And history repeats itself …

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