Despite All My Rage

In recent times, there has been a whole lot of yapping about the very loosely graspable concept of "freedom". Partially because of how the major countries who rule the universe are deciding to handle laws and regulation on private personal freedom and the very thin, almost invisible line, bewtween that and the duties of an individual.

And i'm constantly surprised at how in the discussion of freedome, that very simple word becomes a tool to actually suppress the real thing. How "freedom of speech" is used as powerful weapon to actually crush any right that individuals have to defnd themselves from abuse in a debate. How "Freddom" to have an opinion means litterally to express hurtful and dangerous thoughts with no oncequence, and attack viciously whoever does not agree.

How drinkers use their freedom of drinking as a way to belittle the sober ones, and to not feel judge they judge others.

How Vegetarians use their freedom to not eat meat as a tool to abuse other people's choices with aggression and attempts to convert. not completely removed from how Templars did with Christianity

But i dont really want to discuss that.

Recently i happened to see a documentary, which contained a video concerning the state of Clinics for The Mentally Ill in Italy (and other countries).

The video showed people tied up to beds, covered with bruises, dirty, screaming and malnourished. It had been filmed not more than 3 or 4 years ago, and not in regions of poverty or abandon. It wasnt a clinic for the rich but not a public one either.

To that followed a series of images from asylums for the criminally insane. People tortured, abused, starved.

During a discussion on the topic with moderate thinking people, the type of people one invites to dinner and with whom you might share hints to what school you want tyo send your kids to, the reactions i obtained were of this kind:

"Well, yes its terrible, but when you have to handle with crazy people, what are you supposed to do?"

"My brother was sent to a clinic like that. I didnt visit that much back then but when he came out, he was so much better. So i guess some of those places work..."

"Well, criminals are criminals and they're supposed to be punished, so i'm in favour of them suffering. I'm against death penalty though"

But i'm not sure i want to discuss this either.

A classic image i always witnessed when i was visting the psychiatrist, in the waiting room was a young person, male or femal, generally barely over thirty. They didnt look seriously ill. Or if they were the illness had shattered them enough to make them look mostly frail and exhausted. Probably numbed out by chemicals that had slowly but surely eroded their soul. Close to them, there was usually their mother or father. And often what they uttered sounded like this:

"sit right. Dont stare at people. Keepo your head down. Dont touch your hair. Dont talk. Breathe quietly"

And so on. But discussing this with the forementioned moderate thinkers cayused sentences like

"well i am sure that having a mentally ill son or daughter is hard. Poor parents, always blamed of everything. No matter what you do, you're wroing...."

So my point seems to be: we are talking about freedom, and indignantly scream when big faceless corporations take our tiny freedoms away. Or wave how everyone should have less freedome, so we could have order. Each has its own opinion.

And yet. And yet. And yet we own other people's freedome and lives. We make tiny human being so we can own them. We "help" ill people so we can put them in cages. WE condemn wrong doers and refuse that the stae kils them but we want to own their dinity and put it in our pocket.

And in the end all we want is to lock up people. Locke em up and not see them. Get them a meal and a blanket to buy their soul. Trap them somewhere for their own good so we can keep them in away so they dont worry us. Silence their voice, not hear a noise cause that makes us feel safer and clean.

Say hello to your loved ones for me, when you eventually see them

To Heir Is Human, To Kill Is Murder.

The web can be mostly a bothersome place. To be honest, for the most part it end ups turning moments, tragedies and emotions into a series of disembodied memes and catchphrases that slowly but surrely, take any form of intelligence or soul away from everything.

It doesnt have anything to do with the myth of "the anonimty of the web", which doesnt really exist. It has to do with how quickly information spreads on it and how people tend to trun everything inot black and white chunks of oversimplification. How people become characters and archetypes, fact get overblown and mutated, and covered with thick coat of fabriactions and dramatizations.

Take, as a powerful example, the Costa Concordia case. I am admittedly ignorant. I have been detached from news in the late days, maybe out of cynicism or laziness. Maybe because my brain tends to become erratic when its overstuffed with thoughts. So i knew little to nothing about the details of the tragedy.

So yesterday in an almost compulsory rush to get up to date, i ended up absorbing more emotional and scattered interpretations of the facts than the facts themselves.

So this came to my eyes : http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-16599655

Followed by my own gut reaction, which was harsh. And by me reading the, possibly even harsher reaction from people.

The story has now been made into something with a villain and a hero.

And so far, i would be ok with that. Because, i think that when people die out of a tragedy and out of the mistakes of a coward, he has to be pointed out as a villain. And if people need to cope with what happened through that, they have the right to do so.

And thats where the brainy jouranlists feel the need to chime in. CXause nowadays, the thriving need of an essayist isnt firing up people's hearts with words apparently. Its to cynically comment on how silly humanity is at needing hweros and pointing the finger at scumbags and how everything is justifiable even if its murder. So you'll read about their disgust towards an homicidal tryrant (Qaddafi) being attacked by his own victims (the people). Because tis barbaric and his life apprently is woth of sympathy. And you'll read about how a captain who caused people to die with his cowardice, is really "human" and "the real monsters are the ones who blame him"

And so allow me to join the monsters and say clearly: fuck your freedom of speech. Fuck your need to rationalise murder. Fuck the middle ground. The man will be possibly jailed, maybe he will have a good lawyer, working with the same rethoric. "everyone makes mistakes. He was scared. To heir is Human"

No. No more forgiveness. No more easy ways out. No more legalese. No more cool headed writings. Fuck all of that. Hang him. High.

Liars And Roses

I suddenly ralized what could be a major breakout moment in my own psychological self discovery, or mantal masturbation. Bear with me while i touch my synpases.

Time has brought me emotional growth and some sort of maturity through self discovery and harsh analysis of my own flaws. But also the possibility of coming in touch with people that are actually positive, loving and filled with a honest nature that makes interacting with them a freeing, beautiful experience.

And i am blessed to have them in my life, cause being honest is something that cleans your soul from the greasy weight of wearing masks, acting to please others (or to displease them, whichever your own game is), keeping emotions inside, shut down, whether theyre positive or negative. And, especially, it sets you free from the crushing chain that is having to leave things untold.

That is poisonous, essenitally. And having someone with which the level of chemistry, confidence and trust is so high that anything can be said casue you know that the person will accept it and eventually understand it, share it and maybe even love you more for it, is something that makes you feel lighter and more able to live like youre supposed to live.

But, as with everything good, its a rare occasion. And after setting my heart free and leaving it get some hair, i had to remind myself that i do not have to luxury to live like that all the time.

I have still other people in my life, close ones i have to deal with daily who cannot handle honesty. Its in simple things. Little conversations where even the slight topic will turn to war. The lives of some are based on lack of dialogue, and lack of truth. Any honesty, any heart baring, results in pain and anger and frustration.

I have tried to discuss the possiblity of an honest relationship with my own family, but i was faced again and again and again with the reality, which is we are not supposed to be honest with each other or tell each other what we feel or even details of our lives. Because in the end they will be used like weapons to fight with. Because misunderstanding is the norm. Because truth told to one, will be used with others and disfigured so its ounds filthy and cruel and causes bitterness and dischord.

And so it is with other relationships too, i guess. For the few beautiful ones we can be truthful with, we shall hold them close and not let them go. And with the others we shall lie and survive and not expect anything good from them. As humanity is a herd of pigs, with a few angels in the mix.

I Am Not Here

This article started in my head as a consideration. Born out of a potential nice gesture.

I wanted, and still want to, buy a gift for my fiernd's one year old daughter. And while pondering what to buy, i considered how potentially creepy my long bearded face could look to the eyes of a toy seller. I dont think i have the looks of a potential child harasser. But no one ever knows.

And that brought me to think of how much i like, when i'm in a store or a public place, to say "hi" and smile to little kids. How i like to help them reach something from a shelf too high for them. Or help them to recover missing toys. How i adore their faces when they are of a certain age. And how, as a lonely, scruffy, thirty-something man, i kinda cannot do this anymore, since automatically most mothers react protectively towards their kids. And at first my mental reaction is "do i look like a potential threat", and i know i really dont. So it made me indignant.

Then i realized, at the peak of my poisonous self aware that, at the eyes of someone who doesnt know me, i might as well be. Actually, i am a threat at the eyes of people who DO know me.

And in the end, threat or no threat, this is what i am: i'm an adult man that has no family, no kids of his own, is mostly a loner and dresses and looks like someone who isnt completely sure of his future. Right now, i dont werar ties or suits. Once, that was for me, a sign of something. SOme sort of statement, for others it still is. But if youre honest, you have to realize the truth: not wearing a suit, in today's world just means you either have a job that allows you that, or that youre so completely detached from the real world that you dont have any interest anymore in how people see you.

And i realize that i have no kids. My father and my mother are depressed and love to repeat to me at any chance how they feel suicidal. My father told me that today.

I do not love him or like him. And yet, this broken man, with whom i have an estranged relationship at best, sends me into pain and melancholy evrytime he says that. I know i'll suffer when he dies. Because in the end, he is my father.

And that reminds me this: i have no kids. No spouse. I have no one, my absence would really change things for. I have people who love me, which will suffer and cry, eventually. But those things will pass. I have no one that will have part of me in their blood. I will have no one that i have to really think of when the dark thoughts come.

I do fight those thoughts daily but when i do, and i end up thinking of the ones who love me., the last voice i hear says: "their tear will dry, but then theyll find consolation in their own families and loved ones. your memory will disappear"

Ive been facing that feeling lately. And wanting to have family of my own. And yet i feel i cannot. Cause i am broken. Cause i am almost on the edge of unemplyment. Cause of million of reasons.

So maybe thats my destiny. I dont really know.

His Screams Hurt Me, So I Cut His Tongue

I'm pretty sure i can speak extensively abou my own side of this story, because i am excessively aware and i have taken a lot of time for myself to ponder on it. But it's a darkness many share and even more dont alk about. Its there and it's a fact, and it's what slowly kills people, even more than diseases. And while indifference isnt good, thats not what im talking about.

When you are ill, and in my case, when your mind is ill, the cures often do not take away the rotting roots of the problems. You visit someone who is a servant of an industry who wants to enslave people to pills. So you get given medicines that silence you and put your brain into a vat of grey tasteless soup of numbness. And you still want to scream but your voice is gone.

And that's where the darkness resides: ive been thinking about it and i think i grasped the truth. It's not for you, defnitely. They dont wanna cure or help you. And while its is for their own pockets, they cant stop there too. What the idea of a "Cure" in such cases is, is for your relatives and the people around you.

And while i know that a lot of you feel loved, bear with me while i try to explain. People around you see the external aspect of your pain. In the case of mind pain, they only see the manifestation of it. Your screams, your tears, your anger.

So what the "cure" does, is silence those symptoms. It muffles your screms while your head still feels them. It locks your head in a silenced cage. The ones around you dont hear it no more. To them, youre ok, cause they dont SEE or HEAR you suffering. And even if they would never admit it in broad daylight, that is ok for the most of them.

From the age of lobotomies, padded cells, shock treatments, we've moved to one where the doctors just lock you in silenced roopms that have no physical presence and no walls. They are padded cells in your brain. They null you so you dont bother anyone ever again. Yes there are side effects. But when you live with a person who suffers, you can cope with a few sacrifices if there is a way to make it stop. and that means make them stop being able to cry. Being able to need you. Ask you for help. Ask you to listen.

No, its a couple of pills and they are empty vessels, and you can go on with your life and forget it all. And that means they are cured.

And thats so similar for other illnesses, too. Why cure, when we got hospitals to lock them out of sight? Places where they are taken care of by strangers that are paid to take the burden off your shoulders and see what you dont wanna see anymore.

Cause in the end the "Cure", isnt a solution for the people who suffer. Its a wayu to shut them down and make them invisible. So we can forget they're there.

Putting Holes In Holidays...

I am not the type of person who craps on the holidays. I usually love christmas. Used to be and still is, kinda, my favourite holiday.

Still, in the latest times of my life, a lot of things chancged and kinda ruined some of it for me.

I like the spect of presents, decorations, cards, lights, carols and dinners. Love it. I even loved to do christmas shopping for years.

But.

No holiday like this enhances, for me, solitude or the hypocrisy of a lot of relationships. Or how some are broken. Before youy call me a grinch, think about it.

You might be surrounded by love, and ive been like that too, and in those times Christmas was beautiful. Cause love makes anything special. It might sound corny but its so true.

But Christmas also brings hurt when things are flawed and dysfunctional. Bad relationships become even more painful on Christmas. The presents are a chore, the company of the other person is torturous cause the oversized cheer that surrounds you makes you feel like you have to be cheering but only makes you feel more empoty inside. So you do a christmas dinner with friends, you drink and its supposed to be fun but you really drink to numb that hole. And then you abd your loved ones use the alcohol as an excuse to flirt with others. Hey, we were drunk, it doesnt count. But it does, cause there is pain behind it. And its the holidays and you have to drown it down, cause you dont wanna ruin christmas.

And families reunite. But theres no reunion that erases the memories of decoration ripped through fights. Drunken christmas nights with beatings and vomit. Hate instead of love for years and years. And that accuse of ruining the holidays, always coming back.

And getting presents for friends, like i used to love. Which starts as a joy cause theres nothing that makes me feel more fulfilled as giving something to someone i love and seiing their happiness. No matter how it fucks up my account which always gets thinner and thinner during holidays, to the point of crysis. But its worth it. Until something breaks and you realize that for them its more of an embarassment cause they dont really want to give back, they dont care and they just do it like theyre doing chores. And you open a present they give you and its something that has no heart but you have to smile anyway cause you dont wanna be an asshole. Its the thought that counts.

And the worst. New years eve. The giant day where everyone feels the need to have the fun that they havent had for the rest of the year. Soi wherever you go theres chaos, noiuse and loudness. And you have to be part of it. Wait for miodnight. get mugged. Get drunk. Fight a lot.

I have nightmares abouyt past New Years Eves. But i have to do it. Cause if you dont, youre a buzzkill. Youre not like the others. Youre a hermit.

All i want is to share the moment with people i really love. And besides that, i am tired of all the rest. I love the percent of it that resides in the heart. I love who i love. Outside of that, fuck the holidays.

That Will NOT Do, Pig....

I hate Doctors. There i said it. I usually think that "hate" as a word is way too strong to be used indiscriminately or without the safety net of a second thought. Mostly cause REAL hate is as powerful as love, if not more. Yes, love makes you happy. But a real, deeply rooted hate can give you an energy and a drive that is unparalleled. So i always have an issue whenever people use both words without care. Actually i am more prone to understanding towards a free-form use of the word "love". Hate is powerful, it has meaning. Dont waste it.

That said, i DO hate doctors. I think that doctors, lawyers, and journalists are three categories that humanity should get rid of if we want to evolve even barely. And i swear i mean this. I do not respect any person who is part of that professions. All of those three are a confederacy of two legged leeches who, with the help of the severely flawed and ridiculous laws that us hairless chimps have put up to self convince ourselves that we were able to work that whole "Society" thing out, have been exploiting human suffering on different levels.

Yes, there have been doctors who have discovered cures and helped people, but as the social circus has moved on, those have become less and less. When was the last disease that has been succesfully cured? The last pharmaceutic discovery that has really helped mankind?

Instead, we have those overpaid pill pushers who endsalve patients to all sort of chemical paraphernalia, so they can suck their blood one drop at a time (a dead patient doesnt give money but a cured one doesnt either), that have egos that are unparalleled and wouòd destroy anyone in the name of the Farma companies.

I have had a flu recently, and the flu has turned into a persistent cough that doesnt seem to go away. So i, with a heavy heart, decided to visit a doctor.

This guy, which is the one that my healthcare affords, used to be a dentist.

He wasnt even a bad dentists, if that means anything. He did the job. But he always was a rude, filthy, animal who enjoyed cracking jokes at patients on their illnesses and openly molest his assistants.

Nowadays, he looks like a large swine, covered with a crusty grey fur. He is still an asshole. So he visits me, tells me i should go ona diet (to which i answer with a stare that makes him go "yeah i know, but at my age, food is better than pussy". Oh you). And then prescribes me a therapy of antibiotics and inhalations. When asked for more details he just says "well would you let me do my job? i am the professional here!"

After the first day, the cough is slightly worse, the meds were ultra pricey and i confirm my theory.

Kill all doctors.