Yesterday, at work, with a regular client - a man in his sixties who always greatly appreciates my literary advice - I was having a chat about climate change and the various related issues.
At one point I talk about overpopulation and the discussion shifts to yes / no children.
I never go into too much detail about my cocks - nor those of others - on issues like this, so I solved it with a generic "I don't have any".
So he, I also believe in total good faith and believing he was paying me a compliment, exclaimed "Think again! With these maternal hips you have! You are the prototype of maternal female beauty".
Today I discovered that since I have no children, I implicitly do not have a purpose in life nor a way to use my time and therefore I can sacrifice myself for the company and "work 24 hours a day" (sigh)
There would be many things to say about it, of how the problem is not the men themselves, but the system they have created; how apart from the numerical disproportion, within the system there is a certain homogeneity of intent; how it is perfectly indifferent whether power is acted upon by a man or a woman because the woman, in order to snatch that power from the hands of a man, has somehow introjected the system better than him; and a thousand other things, but I don't want them anymore now.
Any wave of demand, if it acts within the capitalist-patriarchal system, has no chance of changing the present.
The whole fuckin 'system is wrong.
For many men a woman is still just a body. A body to be used sexually or to have children
 But are we still living in the nineteenth century?


Bella di Paija was a XVth century Sicilian Jew living in Mineo (nearby Catania), home to one of the most active Sicilian Giudeccas between the XIV-XVth centuries. Like for Virdimura, news about Bella’s life are pretty much nonexistent. We know though that she was married and had unofficially practised medicine for decades before being officially licensed to perform surgeries.

Unlike Virdimura, who had to petition to be judged by the committee to receive her permission (“Cum ad humilem supplicacionem factam novicer excellencie nostre”), Bella was personally licensed through a royal decree on September 6th 1414 by the Regent Blanche of Navarre, who had been informed by trusted persons about Bella’s long and successful career (“havi patricatu et exerzuta l’arti di la celurgia in la quali si havi ben portatu, cum sanitati di li pacienti”).

Bella could now officially practice surgery (“in qualsivoglia infirmitati di celurgia”) in all the territories part of the Camera Reginale (the dowry Sicilian Queen consorts received upon marrying and consisting on the fieffs of Paternò, Mineo, Vizzini, Castiglione di Sicilia, Francavilla di Sicilia, Siracusa, Lentini, Avola, the village of Santo Stefano di Briga, the island of Pantelleria, and Castle of Maniace in Siracusa).

Another difference between the two physicians was that, differently from Virdimura, Bella and her husband were exempted from paying taxes and shouldn’t suffer any kind of harrassment (“liberi et exempti di omni angaria, perangaria, collecti, imposicioni”). Female Jewish physicians (licensed or not) were particularly appreciated, especially by their fellow female patients (who made up the majority of their clientele) and were considered experts in obstetrics and in general all those diseases and issues which concerned the female body. Apart from treating broken bones, sewing up wounds and perform small operations, these medichesse were very often asked to restore through plastic surgery the virginity of those Jewish women who had had sexual intercourses prior the marriage and were afraid to be repudiated once their future husbands had discovered they were no longer virgins. They also gave advices concerning birth control and assisted their patients in case of abortion, or during their pregnancy and at the moment of the birth. It must be pointed out that, unlike their Christian colleagues, since XIIth century Jewish physicians stressed  the importance of washing their hands before treating a patient, anticipating thus the discovery of XIXth Hungarian physician Semmelweiss.


A few years ago I collaborated with anti-violence centers, where women who suffer from domestic violence are welcomed to work through their trauma and become aware of what they have experienced in the home. In these centers I have heard the stories of women, always very sad stories, and the thing that struck me most was the thought of these women who were trying to make their husband-monster a man, a prince. They suffered for many years because they were convinced that sooner or later he would change and they believed in the tale of Beauty and the Beast in which he becomes a prince. 

Every woman I spoke to had this belief that she could free her man from that angry beast he had inside of him. But the result was that the man continued to be a monster, beating both her and the children. Unfortunately it is a common theme in many fairy tales, films and even novels, that of a criminal man, or monster, or villain, who is then changed into a prince by a woman, often known by chance. Thus many fairy tales, heard by little girls, become obsessions in the minds of women who seek in their monster the charming prince, who will never reveal himself. This belief in fairy tales, in certain myths given by films (such as the most recent good vampire Eduard Callen, and even the cruel Nigan of Walking Dead) make one think that any man or person deviated on a pathological level, can turn into a splendid prince or the good samaritan.

Unfortunately for those who know very well the existence of psychopathy this change is truly impossible unless you experience an event so traumatic that it completely changes your inner core. But by traumatic event I don't mean a love, a love story or something romantic, because let's not forget that the psychopath is anaffective. So the tale that the monster falls in love and becomes good, talented and affectionate is misleading and even harmful. Unfortunately, there have often been fairy tales that women learned as children and that made them grow up with the wrong idea about men. The idea that love saves everyone. The idea that a savior always comes. The idea that a magician intervenes to do a magic that can solve all problems. The idea that a princess alone cannot fight and needs a man next to her to live and face life's problems. 

These and other messages have been transmitted by many fairy tales, films, novels that are read, seen and received by women who often find themselves in bad situations and who dream of being able to solve them in that wrong way.
So even if the wolf disguises himself as a grandmother, he eventually eats the little girl. And there will never be a hunter who opens the wolf's belly to save the child from death. Therefore, girls must be educated never to believe that a wolf, in this case a bad man, can suddenly become good. Because this type of dream and fairy tales is harmful both for herself and for her children. 

In fact, in the meantime that the woman dreams of this change, the husband-monster, has already destroyed her self-esteem, the healthy growth of the children, and dominates the house like a tyrant and in addition uses verbal and physical violence. So we tell women to stop believing in fairy tales, movies and all those products created specifically to convey messages that do not help women at all to become aware of their condition and act in the right way.



In a world that uses techniques, where the strongest wins, where photos are posted to appear happy so as to make others envious, where you have to hold a glass of alcohol in your hands to look interesting, where a naked butt wins instead of the honey … I SAY NO. I keep all my frailty, shiny eyes, pain and fatigue. We are living in the century where sex is free and love costs money, where losing your phone is worse than losing your values. Where smoking and drinking is fashionable and if you don’t, you are old Where men cheat on women with girls and women if they don’t cheat, it is because they fear being caught. Where the bathroom has become a photo studio. Where women fear pregnancy more than HIV. Where the pizza delivery service arrives before the ambulance. Where clothes decide a person’s value and having money is more important than having friends or even a family. Where children are able to give up their parents for their virtual “love”. Where men just want relationships without obligations Where love is a game and you only survive if you play with reason, and you are destroyed if you act with the heart.


The time I gathered your clothes

while you were swimming in the lake and I was trying

to dissuade you, the waters muddy

and the wind blowing on the surface

and it brought me a faint scent

of your breath, I have not found

the simple courage to undress

and to follow you, I have always been

by all the lakes to wait.

Because the lake brings life down, it attracts me

as if the liquid stream was there just for me.

And my love stops me from dying in that part of the lake

where I'm not basically like you.


How many times have you heard of a husband or boyfriend who sacrificed his career for his partner? How many times have you heard that a man copied his wife’s stories or poems at night? How many men do you know who have helped a woman to make a career, to get to the top, to become someone? Tell me one name of a man! Who are these men who gave up their lives to make her take flight? Could she make it to the finish line? please give me some names. Because there are thousands and millions of women who have done this, but no one comes to mind. Indeed, men are usually the ones who hate that women can go ahead and do something for themselves. Men want them and their family and children and the house and the kitchen to be first and then more. Who are these men who said to their partners: “Leave everything alone and go, I’ll take care of it here”? Have you read it in what blog? Let me know. Women have always sacrificed themselves in everything for men, in the name of love, and they should kill this love, since in the end they do not get anywhere and often remain fooled by that feeling It is said that behind a great man there is a great woman. But behind a great woman there is no one because no man ever renounces himself, neither for love nor for anything else. And tell me some names that prove the opposite!


We are little flowers that are not seen,
we don’t have sparkling makeup,
gorgeous dresses.
We are simple flowers,
little souls in the midst of life.
Tiny breaths of a moment of infinity.
We are small flowers that grow asking for nothing.
It is enough for us to have the sky above and the earth below us.
Have you ever stopped to observe the wildflowers? Have you ever reflected on the beauty of colors, their shades which not even the most daring painter would be able to reproduce? In their apparent simplicity, wildflowers hide a great pride, a strength and a determination that leads them to stand up among others without anyone having asked for it, without anyone having sown, watered, wanted them. I admire them for their tender beauty, their colors and their spontaneity. Simple and yet each of them to see well is perfect and wonderful in his being. Sometimes I feel like wildflowers, one among many, simple, but with that simplicity that hides a strength that only those who want to look beyond appearances can find. Fair and modest like wildflowers. Shy yet sure of her own worth like wildflowers.
Have you ever appreciated the beauty of a wild flower? I love them. They don’t have a well-kept garden where they can show off their beauty. They have no loving hands that take care of them. They don’t have a long life to be admired. They grow in inaccessible places and bend to the elements of time. But they are tenacious, bold. And on their slender stem they will blossom again in spite of those who do not find them beautiful and those who are unable to appreciate their scent. Isn’t that a nice way to describe women? Women who, like a wildflower, always show everyone the strength to be reborn after one or a thousand difficulties.



I don't want to advertise a site that allows women, and a few men, to sell nude photos or parts of themselves that are paid a lot of money by followers.
I learned about this online prostitution a short time ago and I learned of really huge amounts that are obtained from this commodification of the human body. I was shocked because once again it is sex that makes money. Sex is required by many men. It is the men who buy those photos, it is they who demand to see more and more. to see certain poses, certain parts of the body. So there are many girls, even very young ones, who sell photos of this type. So what is the use of female independence if the female body is still sold to earn money? Sure, these girls aren't on the streets, they're not in danger, but they're on a screen, and men continue to use them for their pleasure. Girls who should have understood that life is not only made of beautiful clothes and jewelry but who demonstrate that they have a brain deviated from this society that does its utmost to make you think that earning money with sex is now a normal thing and who does not do it is considered stupid. You who speak of God here, maybe your daughters are selling themselves and you don't know it. There are a lot of schoolgirls selling photos, even mothers, young boys. It is something that I think is really harmful to the image of the woman and yet men continue to be and always want the same things from a woman, that is, her body and that's it.


I don't like Loki, I don't like Thor either. I like Captain America and Ironman. I don't like psychopaths, I dealt with a psychopath years ago and that was enough for me. Eliminated. So whoever goes after assholes and gets treated as a doormat is a masochist. And I'm not just referring to women, since there are so many "assholes" who get whipped, trampled and even sodomized. So these assholes, who play the part of the asshole, in a perfect way, keeping many desperate and in love women on the wire, in their privacy they are on their knees and are used by paying Mistresses who humiliate and torture them in a thousand ways. But these things cannot be written in the official newspapers. These things girlfriends don't have to know. They all have to think they are dealing with asshole men. But when they don't spin you it's not because they don't like you but because they want perverse erotic practices. So they go to pay professional sadistic prostitutes who do painful things to them that satisfy them. So while many of you girls sigh and dream of romantic loves, meanwhile they are there with the one who whips them and tramples them and makes them pay huge sums to have the pain that they are experiencing. So they are not assholes but just worms and should be treated as such.


I know I’m not always the best of the best. Often being paranoid and heavy. I have a thousand doubts and a thousand insecurities, I ask a thousand questions and the answers are not always certainties. I would like to live without thinking about the time that passes and the fear of not having lived every moment of this life long enough. I worry too much about the future given my past which alas will always leverage my present. It is that certain things you do not forget, certain things you carry them inside and the signs remain on you. They can be read in your eyes and feel under your hand with every caress that you find it hard to find sincere. After a hug you always expect a stab, and after a smile you are afraid that something will replace it with tears or silent screams. I learned not to let others hear me because to hear they hear, it is to listen that they do not listen. Just as when they stare at you, they see you but don’t look at you. It would take patience with me, but patience is a virtue that not everyone has, and besides, with someone like me, I would lose it too.
Cracks have opened within us. Everyone is an unsinkable ship at first. Then some things happen to us: people who leave us, who don’t love us, who don’t understand us or whom we don’t understand, and we get lost, we make mistakes, we hurt each other. And the hull begins to crack. And when it breaks there is nothing to be done, the end is inevitable. However, there is a lot of time between when the cracks start to form and when we fall apart. And it is only in those moments that we can see ourselves, because we see outside ourselves, through our cracks and into others through theirs. Once the hull falls apart, however, the light enters. And goes out.

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