No monarchy should exist anymore.
No right to live on the shoulders of the Siddites.
Today I am very sad because billions of pounds are spent on a queen's funeral and nothing is spent on all the millions of homeless and poor people that exist in the UK.
Nowhere in the world should there be more queens and kings, princes and princesses. Monarchy and nobility should be abolished altogether.
It is inadmissible that noble titles still exist and that money should be spent on these monarchs, who are already rich, and not on poor people.
I condemn the monarchy, I condemn every privilege these nobles have over the people. They, the monarchs, have rich lives and castles and spend money on formal dinners and funerals while poor people have no food and no home.
I condemn this queen for not making arrangements for a cheaper and more basic funeral and I am truly sad to see how many people still have all this adoration for a lady today.
I don't recognize the noble authority.
I will never recognize who took the right to rule over their subjects by spending their money to have a noble life.
God does not want queens and kings.
God says we are all the same and all brothers.
These kings and queens were selfish and lived on the shoulders of the people.
I'm not going to say hello to a queen who never went to the poor and didn't do anything for all those young homeless kids left on the streets.
I do not recognize the authority of King of Charles and I think we should stop with this nonsense of noble titles.
We are in 2022 and they are still talking about Kings and Queens. I can't stand that people don't understand that they spend people's money. None of them have ever worked and they have a lot of money and privileges. I don't find this right at all.




I feel exactly like … a black rose in a field of daisies. A black, withered, neglected rose, but with the thorns still ready to protect it, even when someone would like to pick it up like this, worn out as it is. I feel like a dead rose, but still with the strength to defend myself from others. And I know that I could spoil the beauty of the other flowers, because in comparison to me they look more alive and colorful. I also know that I spoil the landscape, but I feel this way and I can’t help it.
For a long time I have wondered what it takes to be truly happy: maybe a perfect family? Maybe, a person you love? Perhaps, a house in the most beautiful city that exists? Here, these things could not exist if our happiness were not the fruit of something more, if there were not something that elevates us so high as to lead us to love something we do not have. Happiness lies in what we do not see only with our own eyes: it is seeing the lawn greener than usual and being able to photograph the only flowering tree in a square; dancing on cut trunks and hugging trees; wait for the train to pass before taking a picture and greet those who smile at you from the wagons as if you were crazy; feel your hands burn because they have been rubbed on a bark and try to attract the attention of two dogs that will never listen to you anyway; adjust your camera settings to make this photo the best and feel your eyes water from the sun; playing with (pseudo) pine cones and falling off a bench trying to do something artistic. Well, I didn’t think I could enjoy all this, to have that little bubble of energy to feel that around me there is still so much to observe and analyze. And above all, I didn’t think I had someone with a bubble so big that I could get bigger. And never break out.
I’m like a daisy. They are of an almost banal simplicity, taken for granted, nothing special. But thus being born everywhere, thus resisting the cold and the wind, those who trample me, those who do not appreciate me. So astonish only those who still have a pure heart, like that of children who, after tearing a daisy from the lawn, give it to their mother. They are purity and sweetness at the same time. Sure, sometimes I wither, but I never die.
Today I dress in the daisies of the sky.
Those who laugh more than the stars.
With the same anxiety that keeps the seed alive.
Inside the black clod.
As long as he sees the unknown desired light,
and accompany the river on its long journey.
Between monotonous shores towards a glorious sea,
where together he recognizes and reaches his goal.
I was waiting for you without knowing it,
And waiting was also love.
I remember this and nothing else,
and I can tell you nothing else,
now that the time of love is revealed.
I create dances of little balls on the wind and a rush of gladness takes my heart back.
The eyes sink into the eyes,
sweet lips come together and all the petals
fall from the sky like snow.


I can’t really explain the pain I feel. I can only tell you that I try to live but this life is really not for me. I swing from moments of extreme anger to moments when I have no reason not to throw myself off the balcony. road without hoping to be hit, I don’t light something without hoping to die from electrocution, I don’t take medicine without hoping to die of an overdose, I don’t smoke or drink without hoping that that substance will kill me. ‘is no one with whom I can share my weight.My head and body are so far apart, I have the heart that every second that passes an extra crack, I have a thousand thoughts that I try to escape but lethally devour me every part of I don’t see reasons for just another breath and the more in vain I try to find reasons not to go, the more the world or life gives me some to really leave. I try, but maybe for some life is not, I’m sorry to disappoint those who perhaps still believed in me. I can’t really stay, if they asked me why are you so sad? he is distant and I die waiting. I loved you, and how real are the tears that now would like to fall from my eyes, how real are my absent and dull looks, how real are panic attacks, how real is the commitment that I put into it, so it is always was my love for you or for you true. I leave my place in this life to someone else, I do not deserve or want to live it. I have become just an empty shell that walks and breathes. I died long ago, my soul died long ago. I’m not a princess, he won’t trigger him to save me, he really won the bad this time around.

My sensitivity is my gift and my cross. Where the many are barred, I am allowed to feel. I feel the shades of the soul and I see its colors. My wonder of a wildflower and I cry in front of the sea. I see no heart for the scar and no tears for tears. I feel joy and pleasure, pain and suffering. This is my gift, this is my cross. Music has taught me to be curious. A love cannot take something away from you. Those who say they sacrificed themselves for love make me laugh. Too bad for them. Fears are needed. It is not useful to chase them away. I’m afraid that fear will paralyze me one day. This yes. But it doesn’t just apply to me. It scares me that it could happen to anyone. ou, queen of few words, heal my soul. Let the darkness peacefully lull her into the day. Luminous Queen, common point between distant souls, let me free myself from the chains of distance that men have not yet been able to destroy. Let him be able to rock me one more night, and another. And if you can’t leave us together, enlighten us also tonight and cradle and our souls that meanwhile dance a nostalgic waltz on the edge of the precipice of human will. And let this dance be eternal. Let at least our souls be together, distant queen.


Queen (chess): also called queen is considered the most powerful piece, being the one that enjoys the greatest mobility. The woman can move in straight lines vertically, horizontally or diagonally by the number of unoccupied squares she finds. The woman is more powerful than a rook, or a bishop, but it is conventionally considered that two rooks together are more powerful than a woman.

King (chess): it is the most important piece and cannot under any circumstances be captured. The king can move one square at a time in any direction. Whenever the king is threatened with a catch, he is said to be "in check" and the defending player is obliged to resolve this situation in the next move. If it cannot be remedied, it is checkmate.


The Aztecs - the people who inhabited pre-Columbian Mesoamerica - were far more ingenious than you think, especially in some domains, including engineering.
The Aztecs - who identified themselves with the name of mexica - arrived in the first half of the 1300s on the shores of Lake Texcoco, coming from the north. They decided to live on a small marshy island located in the middle of the lake, where they founded the great city of Tenochtitlan in 1325.
With astonishing skill, the Aztecs transformed the swampy island into a thriving city, which in its heyday had at least 200,000 inhabitants.
The Aztecs managed to cultivate the swamp thanks to the chinampa, rectangular floating gardens that they created by shoring the bottom of the lower lake with stakes, and then accumulated mud, lake sediments and decaying vegetation, until the area was filled.
Trees - usually willows - were planted on the corners of the chinampa to strengthen their structure. Around the chinampa, the canals that were created were used to ensure optimal irrigation, but also as communication and navigation routes.
Typical crops were corn, beans, amaranth, tomatoes and chili, but it also happened that only flowers were planted there.
Quetzalcoatl is a deity of pre-Columbian Mexico, patron of priests, symbol of death and resurrection, usually depicted as a Feathered Serpent, hybrid and mythical animal, which in Meso-American cultures represents the cosmic principle of duality: what crawls and what flies , gathered in the same symbol.
The deity of the Feathered Serpent has had a certain importance, both in art and in religion, for almost 2,000 years, from the pre-classical age to the Spanish conquest.
Among the civilizations, which practiced the cult of the Feathered Serpent, there are the Olmecs, the Mixtecs, the Toltecs, the Aztecs and the Maya (Kukulkan).
According to legend, the god Quetzalcoatl (Feathered Serpent) with white skin and a long beard of colored feathers, arrived on Earth with a gift for men, stolen from the gods: a cocoa tree. And men learned to grow cocoa.
Quetzalcoatl taught men to cultivate this precious plant, to reap its fruits, and to grind its seeds to create a fragrant drink, to be flavored with herbs and spices. Under the advice of the Feathered Serpent god, the rain deity Tlaloc and the fertility goddess Xochiquetzal also helped humans benefit from the fruits of the divine plant.
Human and animal sacrifices were an integral part of the Aztec religion, and the warrior's supreme pride was dying in battle or sacrificing himself as a sacrificial victim, although it was often the prisoners who were sacrificed in secondary rites.

For their manuscripts (or codices) in paper or animal skins, of which we have some examples, the Aztecs used pictography. Their complex and accurate calendar was of Mayan origin.
Ometeotl god creator

Amimit god of lakes

Atl god of water

Atlacoya goddess of drought

Centeotl god of corn

Coyolxauhqui goddess of the moon

Huitzilopochtli god of the sun

Tonatiuh sun god

Mextli god of war

Quetzalcoatl god of arts and knowledge

Tezcatlipoca god of the night, magic and deception

Tlaloc god of rain

Tlazolteotl goddess mother earth

Xipe Totec god of rebirth after death

Xiuhtecuhtli god of fire

Xolotl god of lightning

Cipactli monster in the form of a crocodile that inhabited the earth before creation

Tlahuixcalpantecuhtli was the morning star or Venus

Mictlantecuhtli king of the underground world Mictlan.
In a previous life I was an Aztec queen and I had a twin brother who was a warrior, and who I have known in my current life. It is very nice for me to remember that past life but also painful, because at the beginning my twin brother did not believe me and it was bad that he did not remember. But then thanks to dreams he realized that we had really lived in that land and we were brothers and lovers.


I chased my shadow
down along the illuminated avenues
among faceless men and trees now condemned.
I ran after her
out of breath with only the sound of my footsteps
to guide me
on this degenerate journey
towards the unexplored abyss
In the middle of the day
on the broken stage of an old theater
turned to the abandoned audience
she waited for me wearing a golden mask
I gave my shadow a face
She didn’t forgive me
In gold I dipped your hair and your dreams.
I was good at making you forget the sun.
Dawn was ahead of us and you stared at me
like the only bright star.
You will have kisses and sweets
from the blue horizon.
Kisses and sweets from my blue lips.
We are drunk with eyes
and with those who look at us.
But we will go elsewhere while
the world awaits the golden end.
You dripped your sadness into my golden lake
but you didn’t make me sad.
I listened to your favorite cruelties but I didn’t get involved in them.
You have played with all the dice and numbers to be able to calculate our future but I am a more infinite puzzle than an equation.
The last blue night rises and stays inside green bottles.
Sleep arises and you sleep while I look at your dreams and make them come true.
I’m your lucky charm.



  • You often feel manipulated
  • You never feel good enough
  • You feel exploited and used
  • They lie without remorse
  • They are arrogant and demeaning
  • Their life and history is chaotic and messy
  • They attack you and attempt to bully you
  • They ghost you and disappear from your life

When we think of sociopaths and psychopaths, we generally think of men. The Golden State Killer, The Night Stalker, Jack The Ripper—all men. But what about women?

Anti-Social, narcissistic and Machiavellian behavior that is found in women generally flies under the radar. 

Narcissistic women aren’t using outright aggression and violence to terrorize their victims. Instead, they use manipulation and covert bullying to terrorize the people in their life.

The female narcissist is the true personification of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

She appears in the form of a sweet, innocent girl, a kind-hearted mother, a vivacious, energetic, joyful woman, a kind, old grandmother—yet her motivations are often sinister and dark.

Deep beneath that sweet exterior lies something much more sinister: there lies a desire to destroy, hurt, and manipulate.

So why do female narcissists behave this way? What do they want? And what feeds this darkness within their soul?

Narcissistic women want, in no order of preference: power, dominance, control, wealth, status, resources; and, most disturbing of all, a desire to inflict pain on others, which leads to a sense of fulfillment and deep satisfaction on the part of the narcissist. 

It should be noted that both men and women find themselves victims of the female narcissist, although usually in different ways.

Female victims are used to serve, feed and support the narcissistic woman’s ego, to serve her bidding like a servant serves its master. 

While male victims are used to provide the narcissistic woman with attention, status and resources until the man is milked dry and is of no further use.


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