DARKNESS DROPS

My soul has no peace. In the anguish of a depressing afternoon
I see the corpses of this war all coming forward,
helpless, and calling me,
as if they wanted to take me with them.
My soul cries because the wars are here too,
the deadly stabs,
the absolute pain, the defeat.
My heart cries.
There is too much pain and one day my heart will quench its beats.
The human being strikes again and again and again.
It affects itself.
Devour life.
Eat the heart.
It kills everything.

WAR IS OVER?

John tormented by emotional shortage. Unleash his need for love in music. But when love arrives, she is the age of a mother. Is he a child looking for love? He remains enraptured by his mother's womb, absorbed, until his friendship with Paul is questioned. Paul realizing how much influence that woman has on him.
Music could not replace a mother. Yoko yes, he did. She drew her lost son to her and found him. John found himself but lost his friends. Are there other cases of wives or mothers or girlfriends "vacuum cleaners of genius people"?
Did Yoko bring out the best in John? Did it grow it or did it regress? Did he kidnap him from the Beatles to have him all for himself or did he want to help him demonstrate his genius in a complete way?
John struggled to spread his message of peace. Which musician these days is doing the same? 

FEAR IS AN ILLUSION

VIOLENT MEN

Where did these bad men come from?
From which mother are these violent men born?
Why do they stay alive and strong?
Why did they give birth to them?
Where did these cruel devils come from?
Men who kill, who obey power, 
men? Are they men?
NO. 
I call them monsters. 
These monsters who destroy people's homes and lives.
Do these men know love?
I believe they have never felt love.
What mother can bear having her children shoot other people?
What father is proud of such cruel children?
Where are their parents?
Why did they let them grow so violent?
Men who love war and weapons.
Men who were children and kill children.
Are these men?
I call them monsters !!!
MONSTERS
MONSTERS
MONSTERS
MONSTERS
MONSTERS
STOP THEM!!! 

MY PAIN CRIES

Once upon a time there was a spring garden, green, full of flowers, and the children played.
Then the bombs came and the flowers blew up, and the children blew up too.
Now I know that the devil exists, he has a face, two ugly eyes, an empty heart.
His name is Putin.
This world was not perfect and this man was not perfect either. But no one knew that a new hell came from a man.
Or did they already know?
Yes I said it, I always said it years ago, as it was in my dreams, the war, and the children killed, but nobody listens.
Once upon a time there was Putin and he does not deserve to be in this world so I pray that he disappears because if God created a man like this then he was completely wrong.

DON’T FORGET A CUP OF TEA

Dream big, they say, aim for the stars. And then they lock us up for 12 years and tell us where to sit, when to pee and what to think. Then we turn eighteen and without ever having our thoughts, we have to make the most important decision of our life.
I always look for the sun beyond the clouds. I give smiles because I don’t know how to stay angry for too long. I have large and transparent eyes where my emotions are easily read. I learned to resist even when I was the only one who believed it. I can’t help but be there, I always put all of myself into it. I’m not one who gives up, I fall and stumble but I always get up. As a child I wanted to be a princess but life taught me to fight and I became a warrior. I wear armor and hide all my fears. I keep dreaming, chasing shooting stars, making wishes. Because I have a heart of sugar and marzipan, of stars and candies, a heart that is perhaps too delicate but, after all, giving love is never wrong. I’m just trying to be all the best I can, even if it’s hard sometimes because I never feel enough. I who love too much, with an overflowing love. I who always believe in love, even when it hurts.
It is difficult to stay close to me, I am demanding. I have a contagious laugh and an irrepressible cry, my eyes are full of stars and my drawers are full of dreams, I have scars in my soul and spring in my heart. If I get hurt I break into a thousand pieces and yet I know how to be strong because if I fall I get up on my own. I am always ready to stumble over some mistakes and to collect mistakes. But I prefer to hurt myself rather than hurt those I love. I am insecure, moody, indomitable. I need attention, hugs and caresses. I am made of sun and clouds, of tears and smiles. I am melancholy, restless, impetuous, overwhelming. I often take refuge in my dreams and my silences. Sometimes I feel like running away but in the end I stay. I always stay. Because those like me when they love have no brakes, no barriers, no limits. Those like me are made of heart and soul. Those like me if they love they stay, they don’t run away. Even when love hurts, even when wounds hurt, even when tears fill the eyes, even when bruises on the heart take your breath away.
I have had so many difficult moments in my life, black moments where I forgot even the existence of colors. I hit rock bottom, I went down into the abyss. I’ve been sick, a lot. But then I got stronger, got up and threw everything behind me. Step by step I started walking again, sometimes in the rain, sometimes with skinned knees, yet I made it. All the strength I need is within me, I just have to remember to look for the rainbow. I want to color my soul and find a smile again because a woman never gives up and always finds the courage to look forward and start over. I went through storms learning to swim on my own, I didn’t give up and again saw the sun’s rays behind the clouds and bright stars illuminating the night. I still carry within me that shy and insecure little girl of many years ago but now I have become stronger and I have learned that everything in life passes, sooner or later. And you can always start over, just believe it, just want to, just don’t give up.

HELP THE HELPLESS

 

Do not do to others what you would not want done to you ».
I have made this concept my philosophy of life. But I went even further.
Because not only do I not do what I would not like to have done to me, but I do what
I would like others to do for me. And it is normal that, thinking in this way,
I expect the maximum from others: the very maximum that I am ready to give at any time.
And it hurts to realize every time that I have deluded myself and that I have placed trust in people who did not deserve it.
And it hurts to realize that you are the only one who believes so much in friendship. And it hurts not to be able to give less.
I give all of myself, mind, body and heart. But the others, in return, don’t even give a little of their time
What is a hero? What is an idol?
Simply someone who does his job to the maximum, does what is right, because if he feels it inside,
he does good because his morality is stronger, he makes art for others, to spread beauty in the world,
or someone who he says things as they really are without worrying about the consequences
Someone who would also be willing to give his life for all this and for others
Those who can be considered as such will remain in history or in the memory of people,
even if only one who will keep them in their hearts and minds forever.
These people have given a great purpose to their lives,
leaving the world, an idea, something perhaps priceless and ineffable.
It’s not about loving people, it’s about doing them good. The well-known difference between saying and doing is not just proverbial. Doing good is the only reason we were sent to this planet. There are men who do good, others who do evil, still others who do nothing. You may not agree, but I consider the latter to be the most dangerous and useless. Doing nothing is a very serious fault. The truth is that you change the world by doing good. You don’t have to go to the other end of the world to do it .. Just take care of the people around you. Never take a smile, a kindness, a kiss for granted. Even when you think you can’t change anything, when it’s heavy, it does the same. No it does not. We sow and cultivate the good always, also and above all in small things.

AETERNUM

Slowly bring out this love that hurts you to breathe. Shake it a little so that it wakes up. Wash it carefully, so that not the slightest impurity remains. Clean and fragrant, fold it as many times as necessary for it to have the size of the nail of the big toe of the right foot. Wait for an ant to pass, be noble and generous, and pass the heavy load to her. It will take him to safety in some deep cave. Once this is done, go and fill your tobacco pipe in front of the eastern sea for the umpteenth time. Oblivion will come parallel to the end of the tobacco and the approach of the sea to you.
If you want to recover this love that you now forget, just write a long letter talking about unknown journeys, hydras, windmills, offices and other equally terrible monsters. When the mail returns you will find your love just as you sent it, perhaps with a bit of dust and a dream on the cover ...
Upon his death we rose up. At first there were five names that fell, one by one and together, in our memory. Then other names came to add their blood. Already we were crashing into the base of the mountain and the just-added blood of others brought us back up. In different times they zealously united all this blood with their own so that it would not get lost in the river. We kept walking without looking very far and some opened the lacquer casket to reopen our memory, and forced us to raise our sight with their blood. We always rose up on their death. And so everyone goes putting their share of blood for others to rise up, until we all stand up and put a new sun on a new earth.
Today there is a no that weakens the powerful and strengthens the weak: the no to war.
Someone will wonder if the word that summons so many around the world will be able to avoid war or, if it has already begun, to stop it.
However, the question is not whether we can change the murderous path of the powerful.
No.
The question we must ask ourselves is: will we be able to live with the shame of not having done everything possible to avoid and stop this war? No honest man and woman can remain silent and indifferent at this time.
Everyone and everyone, each with his own tone, with his own way, with his own language, with his own action, we must say no! And if the powerful wants to universalize fear with death and destruction, we must universalize the no! Because the no to this war is also a no to fear, a no to resignation, a no to oblivion, a no to renouncing human beings.
We want this no to cross borders, to scoff at customs, to overcome differences in language and culture, and to unite the honest and noble part of humanity, which, we must not forget, will always be the majority. Because there are denials that unite and bring dignity. Because there are denials that affirm men and women in the best part of themselves, that is, in their dignity. Long live the rebellion that says no! Die death! Against death we demand life, against silence we demand speech and respect, against forgetting memory, against humiliation and contempt, dignity, against oppression, rebellion, against slavery, freedom, against imposition democracy, justice against crime. The war we started has given us the privilege of reaching attentive and generous ears and hearts and geographies near and far, what was missing and what is missing was missing but we achieved the gaze of the other and of the other, his listening and his heart. So we saw ourselves in the need to answer a decisive question; What follows? Kill or die, as the only destiny. We had to rebuild the path of life which is what they had broken and continue to break from above. The journey not only of the original peoples but also of workers, students, teachers, young people, peasants and also of all the differences that are celebrated above and below are persecuted and punished. We have had to inscribe our blood in the path that others direct towards power or we have had to turn our hearts and gaze to who we are and to those who are who we are, that is, the original peoples guardians of the earth and of memory.
Many people seem to experience “taking sides” as the need to stab someone. Others choose the easier way or the one suggested, many would like to pacify the globe and choose according to levels of consciousness. What I have put my attention on are those who do not participate, let’s call them that, because in reality even a non-choice is a choice, so on this level they make no sense. Not taking sides is not always synonymous with wisdom or liberation. In addition to the fact that the story of “Live and go your own way” has now turned towards deformations of indifference and paroxysms of the alienated. Over time it has become the paradigm of the ego first of all, which today plays the role of the ego against all. That is, separation. Thinking “it’s not my business” in front of certain community moments means getting out of it, because there is a distortion of the concept of free will and personal freedom (I believe that the former does not even exist under a certain conscience, but they are completely personal considerations ). Both thoughts are not applicable today because neutrality realizes the plans of the underhanded as much as the war against the neighbor. I quote this quote that sheds light on the destructive side of paraculism.
Injustice has many names and there are many cries it provokes. And don’t forget that while some whisper others scream. Listening must find the way to make it fertile. Just look down and raise your heart. The justice we want: the persistent and stubborn search for truth.

SAY NO

To rebel means to disobey the laws and perform a series of acts against an existing power. In this case we refer to the Italian state, a geopolitical entity in which subjects are oppressed in a legal way, in which legality is an instrument of oppression, where institutions are used to oppress the population and humiliate it. Rebelling is a duty when the law becomes an instrument of persecution, when the law becomes the alibi behind which evil against the population is justified. The ministers and presidents who follow one another in the Italian state are legalized criminals, modern executioners who use the law and their faithful dogs, to maintain a network of privileges extended to millions of people who have annuities, pensions and salaries guaranteed by their position in institutions. Two entire generations have been enslaved by a generation of gerontocrats who have everything: economic, political, information control. And as if that were not enough, they begin to cheat even rejecting electoral clashes, referendums etc….
In a situation of this kind where it is oppressed through taxation and obsessive control of life, the economy, information, it is necessary to rebel, it is necessary to fight with every means against this enslaving system.
When the abuse of legality against elementary rights is evident, such as the right to have a home, the right to eat with dignity, to have the opportunity to warm up and cover up, to be able to work while doing business, to have decent and efficient services .... When the system denies all this, when one is the victim of an apparatus which no longer guarantees this but which even demolishes it, then it is necessary to rebel and destroy this system and its protagonists.
I would like to be alone with my loneliness now. walking by the sea, at dawn, with the sound of wind and waves, and the salt that ruffles my hair, and the salt that touches my skin. I would like to stay in the evening sitting on the floor of my terrace, contemplating the moon and getting lost among the stars, and feel small, insignificant and yet finally part of something, in the harmony of the firmament. Listening to the sound of crickets and cicadas as a balm for my heart. Or, still sitting on the ground, contemplate my reflection in the mirror of my room at the house, the sea, the one that overlooks the railway, and while I look at the sky, think of a future that will never be there. I have been wandering blindly for years in a skin that does not belong to me. I would like to change it. Above all, I would love to know how to do it. And then I would like to go to Los Angeles with my usual dreams in mind, meet other artists, paint and run out of all the money, and then write, write, write, and then with music in my ears, go to Alaska and merge with the green of the earth . I’m a wild spirit, you see. In captivity for too, too long. I suffer so much, I need to breathe again, to savor the rain, to make my skin burn from the sun.
The dreamers. The crazy means. The drunks. The lost. The poets. The musicians. Draftsmen. Artists. The only ones. Those who have made peace with the darkness of the night. And thoughts. Those who keep defeats to themselves without ever begging for forgiveness. The funny ones. Clumsy. That every now and then they cry and say it. A little sociopathic and therefore fascinating. Those who have discovered what fear and even a little love is made of and have lived better since that day. And since that day they have been afraid of hurting. Those who in an ordinary morning after drinking a good coffee have decided to disappear. To live. To meet beauty. To go. Because this happens. Those who have left the handrail for some time and do not remember the way they went. Let alone that of the return. Masters and slaves of the truth. They. Who will certainly smile at you after a: hello how are you? They. Kiss them carefully. They. Hug them harder.
But was it worth it in the end? Holy God, how irremediably my life has changed, it is always the last day of summer and I was left out in the cold without a door to get back in, I admit I had a good deal of intense moments, many have great plans but their life slips out of my hands, in the course of my life I have left shreds of heart here and there, and now I have not enough left to keep myself alive, but I try to smile, knowing that my ambition has far exceeded my talent, now I no longer find white horses or beautiful women at my door. It is the people that no one imagines that they can do certain things those who do things that no one can imagine.
They always talk about democracy, progress, civilization, legality, justice etc., holy and just big words for the hierarchs, for the dominants, for the respectable, I just suck, both the first and the second, what I think is to be focused it is the condition of the “last”, of the People, the real ones, who are considered by the dominants only numbers useful for slave labor, who find themselves in unacceptable conditions of survival, who in the majority remain calm and submissive, in other cases they succumb to suicide , in others they do not accept this condition and rebel and for this reason they are “treated” with the means of democratic repression, this crap of a capitalist society should not be given signs of submission and fear, but of active rebellion

THE BRAVE HEART

This photograph was taken in Ireland in 1972, and depicts a girl shooting with the weapon of her boyfriend, who was wounded in a battle against the British army.

The man survived, transported to a safe place, thanks to the sacrifice of his girlfriend who faced the English soldiers until she was killed.

When the British battalion commander discovered he had been fighting a woman, he ordered his soldiers not to touch her body and allowed the Irish to bury it. They are said to have heard the English commander exclaim: "The queen does not care about us as this woman cared about her man and her land".

The photo was chosen as a symbol for Women's Day in Ireland, alongside the phrase: "Don't be afraid to bond with a strong woman. The day may come when she will be your only army."

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