We can all think that poverty is a characteristic of certain undeveloped and economically behind countries. We can all imagine homeless people in bad places and bad weather. But instead thousands of poor people live in places where they should have assistance and help and instead have none. Why?
How do politicians eat their dinner and go to their children who live in a beautiful place if there are so many people out there without dinner? Isn't it absurd that politicians first of all think about spending money on guns instead of giving a home to all those people without a shelter?

What cities exist without these poor people who are ignored by everyone? I cry looking at these people because they seem not to exist for anyone and yet they are there and everyone can see them. Which cities are left without poverty? Is this the civilization we built? Is this progress? My grandparents are Italian and lived in a tiny village in Sicily. I have never seen anyone in that tiny village without a home. You ask me why? I don’t know but I can say that my grandparents used to say that after the war everyone tried to help each other. So is the civilization of aid over? The priests always gave food to those who didn’t have any, my grandparents told me this. Is religion over now then? What caused this inhuman humanity that helps no one? Politicians are all thieves and do not come to the government to help the people but only to demonstrate power and success. Why are we so bad? Why do we let this happen? I grew up with my generous and selfless grandparents but here where I live now there are a lot of selfish people with no love for others. What caused all this non-love for others?

Yet finding yourself like this is a moment, just being without a social network, losing your job, not being able to pay rent, not being able to find work, having had to deal with a separation, having a serious mental disorder, such as depression. People rarely become homeless by choice, at first they are thrown out, expelled from the system. Then a silent mutation takes place, we are transformed into invisible citizens, inhabitants of the interstices of the city, which becomes an improbable but only possible home. In the city, it is sometimes reduced to wandering in the throes of alcohol and hallucinations and then, exhausted, falling asleep at the mercy of the darkness of the night, of metropolitan life, of the street.


The world is becoming butchers and we ourselves are the butchers, what an absurd paradox! While we are intent on destroying the world to “work” we do not realize that we are losing the place to live, we do not realize that without water and oxygen we cannot live, instead we can very well without oil, but what matters Moreover? Nowadays, of course, oil. But do we realize that we are dying piece by piece? All, all of all ethnic groups, all colors, without any difference, from all social states, from all over the world. We are dying and we think about the differences we have between us instead of uniting everything that unites us to build, we are destroying and we don’t know how to think about anything else!
And here I am, struggling with my classic panic attack, with my crises, crises that do not depend on what happens to me, but which depend solely and exclusively on my thousand fears and paranoia. Do you think I’m stupid? Unfortunately you are right, you are absolutely right. The doctor says that it is the coffees that fuel my state of perennial anxiety, but I don’t think it changes much (also because today I only drank a coffee). What leads me to stay like this is myself. For example right now I think I should try harder to build a future that is worth living, I think I should try to give less affection because it is often not reciprocated, I think I should have more time for myself, but then there I think back and conclude that probably I shouldn’t have any time for myself at all, I think I should satisfy the wishes of the people who love me, or maybe I should satisfy mine. I think I would like to be more independent from the world and I feel that I have not finished much, I think about the events that will happen, about the ones that I have seen in my vision and I am afraid that no one can imagine how terrible it will be. I think my heart is beating fast and I can hear it in my ears. I think I forget to breathe, I think it’s raining, I think if I don’t calm down it will get worse and worse. This is the problem: I THINK!
We are human. No matter what we try to do to convince ourselves that this is not the case, we are this and we are wrong, but this is also normal. We are stubborn, we are sad and misunderstood, but we must live with ourselves and love each other, but above all forgive ourselves. We must give up, we must stop wanting to feel strong to protect ourselves from others, we are human: we suffer.It hurts to fucking feel vulnerable, but we are made of flesh and blood, the fact is that we are vulnerable. We are only human beings, we are only mere creatures, like other animals, we are only ourselves, and however much it hurts to accept it: the sooner we accept it and the sooner we forgive ourselves! WE FORGIVE OURSELVES.



The APDH and the Committee for the Liberation of Milagro
 Sala denounce the mistreatment and torture of three political prisoners
 in the Alto Comedero prison, in the province of Jujuy. 
They were held at different times in "isolation cells" 
where they were isolated from the rest up to 7 days, 
with the windows closed, with only an hour a day for personal hygiene. 
This situation is aggravated by the fact that her clothes are removed,
 that is, they are left bare with a single blanket to cover herself. 
To keep them good, they administer psychotropic drugs, 
sometimes by force, sometimes secretly in the midst of other drugs.
This is a clear violation of human rights, 
a violation of United Nations rules on the treatment 
of prisoners and the treatment of women prisoners
 (Maria Elena Naddeo is co-president
 of the Asamblea Permanente por los Derechos Humanos
 (APDH) and a member of the first hour 
of the Milagro Sala Liberation Committee.)

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