STORY OF TWO MIRRORS

Once upon a time there was an old sage sitting on the edge of an oasis at the entrance to a city in the Middle East.
A young man came up and asked him:
“I've never come this way. What are the inhabitants of this city like? "
The man replied in turn with a question:
"What were the inhabitants of the city you came from?"
“Selfish and bad. This is why I was happy to leave there ”.
“So are the inhabitants of this city!”, Replied the old sage.
Soon after, another young man approached the man and asked him the same question:
“I just arrived in this country. What are the inhabitants of this city like? "
The man replied again with the same question:
"What were the inhabitants of the city you come from?".
“They were good, generous, hospitable, honest”.
“Even the inhabitants of this city are like that!”, Replied the old sage.
A merchant who had brought his camels to water had overheard the conversations and when the second young man left he addressed the old man in a reproachful tone:
“How can you give two completely different answers to the same question asked by two people?
“My son”, replied the wise man, “each one carries in his heart what is within himself.
Anyone who has not found anything good in the past will not find anything good here either.
On the contrary, he who had loyal friends in the other city will also find loyal and faithful friends here.
Because, you see, every human being is led to see in others what is in his heart.

In life you always find what you expect to find .. because everyone projects outside what resides within himself.

HOT LIKE THE SNOW

“Be the anomaly.
The aberration.
The error.
The inconvenience.
The diversity.
The indecipherable data.
Let them shake their uniformed heads while watching you.
Let them be ashamed of you.
Let them be embarrassed.
Let them get angry. They will insult you.
You let them do it.
Let them make fun of you.
Let them point you.
Let them laugh.
Resist their mockery.
Be their victim, their laughing stock.
Be a resounding failure in their eyes.
A tiger does not lose sleep by caring for what sheep think.
Go on.
Be the scar on their way of seeing things and their normality. They will hate you.
They will fear you. They will want to be like you ”.
Resilience is the strength of people who, despite being injured, consider themselves not victims but users of their own resources and are preparing to recover the resources necessary to face the future with planning hope. The word resilience (from the Latin resiliere, to bounce) in physics indicates the property of materials to return to their original shape after having suffered a blow. In sociology and psychology it highlights the human capacity to overcome the difficulties of life with elasticity, vitality, energy, ingenuity. Resilience is the ability to face risk factors, to get up after a crisis, stronger and more ingenious than before: it is the ability to overcome the injustices of life without succumbing.
Do you know what the truth is?
That people fight only for themselves.
Yet the best wars are those that are fought for others, because there is the strength of an ideal, pure, and not of interest.
No one fought for me. I never understood what it meant to be strong, until I was left alone and now that I’m fighting the world I don’t need a hand from anyone, because the best enemy is someone I trust, but he will be the first to hit me from behind . So I realized being strong alone is the only solution.
The studies I have done
they will make you believe
that are all the grades taken at school,
I am the exam given
the debt to mathematics, the outdated thesis,
you will think I am the degree title
completed
the friends I've had
three little freedoms of my childhood
they'll make you think they know
where i come from, what have i done,
the fatal mistakes that I carry with me
and what rebellions
my ideal is composed
the car I drive
the clothes I choose
the premises in which I enter,
you will think they are excellent clues
to get to intuit
who I am
you will believe
that I am the flaws of my zodiac sign,
that besides the cheekbones, it also has all the qualities of my mother,
and that I think it
like the music I listen to
when heartbroken
I practice solitude in the bedroom
but what you glimpse of me
it is homeopathy of my experience
is a distillation of your imagination,
a tiny span of my infinity
served on the table of your little judgment
I am
everything
that you still can't see.

THIS FEELING

The thing I hate most is crying, which attacks you when you least expect it. You’re there doing something and suddenly your eyes are shiny again, what the hell, and you don’t understand how it happened. And the last thing you want is for someone to notice, because a second later they come to cuddle and chirp, and they want me to talk, and I’m really not into it. I close in on myself. I often get nervous and I take it out on myself a lot, because if my heart is shattered in one way or another it is also my fault. Thoughts crowd into your head, questions pile up, how do you try to answer one, no ten more pop up, it’s terribly hot, you can’t sleep, you are hoping for something unexpected but that won’t happen, as he opened his mouth to say one something, maybe even joking, all ready to judge and reproach you as soon as they have the opportunity, is a chain that will never end and that no one is able to break it. they are said and and tries to get by with the judgment of others. There would be so many more things to say but it would hurt both me and you too much.
I thought about leaving. Not to say anything to anyone, go to the station and take the first train. Escape without a trace, abandon everything and everyone. I wasn’t going to tell anyone where I was going, not even my mother. They would never find me again. I had a best friend of those who from one moment to the next they find themselves sharing everything, of those who then, growing up, at any moment disappear and you ask yourself: “Why?”. And she told me to stay good, she told me that there were no more people like me. But he was corrupt and felt dirty. Then I had little kittens as friends, and there were four of them like the Musketeers but I didn’t call them after them. Then one of them died, Trinity, strangled by a rope taken by the dog to play. The great walnut welcomed his sweet little soul. I will not forget msi her little mouse face. She was too young to die. I too was too young to die but he killed me anyway.
– Mom, I’m going out. -At this time? It’s three o’clock, where you think you’re going. – Don’t worry, I’m going to a friend’s house. Put something on, take your headphones and close the door. And where are you going now? You don’t know it, yet you walk aimlessly. Play the first song, bright eyes. Put the second, a tear. The third, you need to sit down, because standing up you can’t stand. And it hurts so bad, it destroys. Yet no one sees it, no one hears it, only you. Such a devastating thing for you, but indifferent to others. You get up, walk a bit. The tears are gone now, or so you think. A thousand thoughts go through your head. You look at the phone, no text, no call. Nobody cares about you, where you are from, if you are okay, despite everything. Nothing. You’re looking for a place to go, but you really just want a couple of arms to stay between. But you are alone, alone and devastated.

SNOW FLOWER AND THE SECRET FAN

China, nineteenth century. Two girlsSnow Flower a White Lily, become linked for eternity with the Laotong rite, after sharing the practice of foot wrapping.

In the situation of isolation of the women of the time, the two friends will begin to communicate with a language unknown to men, the nü shu (女 书), through the folds of the Snow Flower fan.
Shanghai, today's times. The descendants of Snow  Flower and White Lily, two girls who have been friends since childhood, Sophia Liao and Nina Wei, bond with the Laotong ritual through a CD by singer Faye Wong. The various events of life will separate them and then discover that their union will transcend time.
The bandaging was a ritual that mothers imposed on their daughters, between four and five years of age, with the aim of changing the shape of the feet. In this way they would have remained small, about seven / eight centimeters, and would have assumed a pointed shape.
Unfortunately, there were also less fortunate girls, who did not survive due to the resulting infections and gangrene.
Furthermore, having deformed feet was an investment in marriage and in the possibility of social ascent, since marrying such girls was a sign of prosperity.

The only women who did not follow the practice were those of the Hakka ethnic group, very poor, and the fisherwomen, as they needed normal feet to be able to balance their weight on the boats.
The shoes used by women with golden lilies, compared with a hand. (Photo and hand by Amanda Foreman)

THE SECRETS OF MY FRIENDS

When I have a friend I tell everything to him/ her but I’ve seen that he/ she has secrets for me. He/ she doesn’t tell me everything.My friends are strange people and I don’t see them that often they visit the day like iguanas and the night they forget where they parked. They do jobs that you don’t understand they always have their phones dead and in the eyes the eyes when they built houses with the sofa cushions. To recognize ourselves we open shells that make a flash, we find them in our pockets without knowing it. My friends laugh like water and they broke a thousand lives to get here they have unscrewed the spiral of galaxies drank beer with the angels and they say it was a coincidence. But I know that they have come to empty the deposits of weeping to show a heart that sings beyond the balconies of sleep.
There are certain friendships that are destined to end. Without regrets, without rancor. Only awareness of something that was there before and is no longer there. They are those friendships, which leave you that light melancholy of pleasant memories, which have not left too much mark. That you will remember in the strangest moments, wondering what happened to that person, but without the bitterness that the loss of a true friendship can leave you. That will make you greet that person on the street with a smile but no, it won’t make you stop talking. They are those friendships that are created in a short time and crumble in even less, that without realizing it slip away from your hands, until all of a sudden you realize you don’t know anything about that person anymore. And it doesn’t hurt the loss, because it’s so gradual that it almost comes naturally. They are those friendships that will remain forgotten in a secret diary or in a photo album of your adolescence. And it will be like losing one of the many clothespins that no, it’s not your favorite.
It was a long painful time, because she wasn’t there. When she disappeared from my life, my world was empty and my dark times got worse … I remember when I was at the lake watching the sunset and wondering why all this was happening, why I lost you, why you weren’t here by my side. After months and months, I got over everything and my heart closed, it was all right in a way. Then you came back and my life went back to being like many months ago, I was fine again, I didn’t understand why but it was going much better than “all right” … And it was strange. Until then we started talking to each other again and there I understood after weeks why … Because you were and have remained the most important person in my life, which gives me an absurd purpose and relief, where all the pain dissolves and disappears. You are the best friend I could ever want and have by my side … Watching the sunset and thinking that tomorrow will be a new day next to you, just makes me understand how much I have to fight to be able to meet you one day and hold you in my arms. It will be the greatest joy of my life, to see you and hug you … Fuck how good it would be … I can’t stop smiling at the thought … Imagine how important you are to me.

BEING STRONG

One morning you wake up and just at the exact moment that fraction of a second just before setting your foot on the ground you understand what you really want, what are you willing to put up with and what not, what or who are you willing to put aside because the thing is to One way street… And everything that crushed you until the night before, made you sick becomes the past. Important and non-erasable part of your life, but past. Something you don’t want to hear anymore. There is a greater awareness of who we are and what we want. The road ahead will be long and often difficult, but having chosen ourselves for once and not others will make us feel better. People will never stop judging every step you take, without wondering why you are doing it, or for the person you are inside, they can only see what they want to see without really looking at you. You may be the coldest person on this planet, but do you really want to hide behind a mask to look strong? Is it really so important to show yourself for what you are not? Do you really think you are that strong? We all have weaknesses, fears, insecurities, but we are never alone. Someone tried to reach out to you to help you, why didn’t you take it? You think you can handle everything by yourself don’t you? But is not so. Nobody is alone in this world, you have to get help from someone, you can’t carry all the problems on your shoulders, friends, family, a point of reference, it helps not to keep all the load on your shoulders, let someone take a little ‘weight off your shoulders, you will feel lighter. For me, being strong is like an armor that over time, through mistakes and experiences, you learn to fortify. Being strong is also understanding, for example when a situation repeats itself several times, you learn to manage it and not feel bad about it, when people disappoint you several times, you learn to know how to behave should it happen again, without spending too much time cursing you. I do not consider myself a totally strong person, we all have moments when weakness makes us fall .. you are never completely strong, emotions are too strong feelings to make you feel “invincible”. I don’t always feel strong, it also depends on the topic, but I try.

OUR EDUCATION AS WOMEN

Unfortunately, from an early age, especially us women, they teach us that happiness is found only by finding another person to love, or who loves us, and this leads to a whole series of deviations from the path of well-being that sometimes become destructive for us or for others. The educational field should be enriched with this component which concerns the construction of self-esteem created by oneself and not by the contribution of others. Perhaps in this way we would avoid making many mistakes and always seeking in the other what we already have in ourselves. A long time ago, I was building inner bridges to reach out to others. To get closer to their world. I wanted at all costs to be part of it, to feel something, to be seen, to be friends with many. I envied those who had so many friends or acquaintances. Then I found out that it’s not a great thing to have friendships. In the end, you always have to reciprocate in some way. You have duties as with relatives. Then if you understand that they exploit you it is even worse. My presence has sometimes been used and that’s not a nice thing. Now I don’t build bridges to anyone anymore. I like it as it is. I believe it is better. They don’t disappoint me. I’m not looking for anything. I don’t have to reciprocate. I don’t have to feel compelled to do anything with anyone.

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.

STOP PLAY, BEGIN TO LIVE

VIDEOGAME INDUSTRY MAKE MONEY ON YOUR ADDICTION.

YOU’RE A VIDEOGAMER?

ARE YOU AN HAPPY PERSON?

THE SYSTEM WANT YOU TO PLAY AND FORGET WORLD.

 

YOUR SON IS DOING THE SAME OF YOU.

 

YOUR CHILDREN PLAY EVERY DAY, EVERY HOUR, EVERY NIGHT.

 

YOUR FRIENDS ARE PLAYNG AND DESTROYNG THEIR OWN LIVES.

 

THEY PLAY BECAUSE THEY ARE BORED.

 

YOU PLAY BECAUSE YOU’RE ANGRY AND DEPRESSED.

 

THE SYSTEM WANTS YOU TO BE SLAVE OF VIDEOGAMES!

 

YOU HAVE AN INTERNET ADDICTION

THE SYSTEM WANTS YOU TO BE ALWAYS ONLINE SO THEY CAN CONTROL YOU.

YOU WILL NOT HAVE TIME FOR YOUR FAMILY, FOR YOUR REAL FRIENDS, FOR YOURSELF.

THE SYSTEM WANTS YOU TO BE ALWAYS ONLINE TO STEAL YOUR MONEY.

THEY WANT TO USE YOU AND ABUSE YOU FOR EVERYTING THEY SELL.

 

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