Who knows why I’m so obsessed with fixing things, with the past, so much that I have to believe that you can restore relationships… and then it happens that you can do it, but in one way or another “history repeats itself” and you start arguing again. What does this mean? So is history doomed to repeat itself, even if you have the experience on your own?

After reconciling with a person I considered a friend, things slowly degraded again and it all broke out again.

Perhaps this should teach me that even with another person whom I think of, with whom I STILL HOPE VERY GNEGNELY to have to deal with again, in any case, another misunderstood would happen again, another mess, another accident that would new collapse everything.

Do we really never change and never mature in the end? Does history repeat itself because there really is some “destiny” or because we simply haven’t learned enough or believed too much that we can do it, or in other people?

But in the end who is really wrong? In the end I tell myself the problems every day, I know what I and the others really did wrong, and I think I can learn something..

So I tell myself that maybe it’s better to stop “deceiving ourselves”, and that some people are beyond change, that some none have enough imagination to project themselves into a world in which they can live differently.

And then I stay in a dimension that allows me to be myself, without overthinking it, without paranoia, without FEAR of being judged.

Is this really evolution? In the end, at 33, it’s as if I were 15 again, with few friends, isolated and cold, discriminated against, let’s say, by the majority, by those who have “snobbishness”, by those who in any case spend their time talking badly of others, to judge.

I hear bad things about others every single day, about people I don’t even know and whom I’m even less interested in knowing… just as I don’t care to know what they do.

I understood that in a certain sense everyone envies, they are all, let’s say, obsessed with talking about others because they are dissatisfied with their lives but instead of trying to fix it, instead of identifying what is wrong with theirs, they seek – dare I say – desperately what ( According to them) does not go into other lives.

This is the principle of judgment and prejudice, but there is never something objective, if everyone then gets used to thinking in one way, they will always have stereotypy as a yardstick of thought.

I realized that people have had a thought about me that in the end, it’s in their head, I realize they say things that are as distant as possible from reality. And I’m no longer surprised to remember that they said things about me that don’t exist, that are… false.

Yesterday it happened in a speech in which I was joking (now I always do, because I’m tired of taking everything seriously unlike the others).

I make fun of a situation and not a person, I make fun of what I really don’t give a damn about, where – you understand – it’s easy to do. There are no consequences for what you have no interest in.

And someone tells me (certainly or most likely joking) that I had METHODS OF COMPARISON between normal women and pornstars, standards of beauty.

Now, always repeating that I don’t give a damn about this, etc., but…

I thought about one thing: how did this idea ever come to mind? I’ve never had anything like it, I HATE to compare. I don’t do it with footballers, I don’t do it with ANYTHING.

Because? I’ve known for a long time that it’s stupid: you can’t compare two series for example, belonging to the same genre, because each of them has its positive and negative characteristics as well as some musical artists, also for this reason I say: “I don’t have a favorite artist ”, no more, there can be more than one.

For example, once (and even today) I can tell you that Kaos is my favorite, but…

I loved and love Moder, kind of the same way, I Colle Der Fomento, Rancore and I could go on. Above all because in some moments they have entered more into the heart, when “I needed it most”.

But the main question is: what would I have ever done to make someone think that I do something similar?

And then you understand that well, most likely, someone had the wrong ideas about me.

The thing that annoys me most of all? The awareness that relationships end up with non-existent things, misunderstandings about stupid things.

I have searched for a long time, the truth.

I remember some time ago, wanting to take it, my hand reaching out to take this stick, the truth. Years ago I sensed I was close, but in my optimism thought it would be a few months.

I think it’s been 3-4 years.

No one can know us better than ourselves, I am the greatest authority of myself.

My truth is freedom,

the freedom to express oneself, to think with and without consequences and visualize them well, these consequences, which even if they exist, do not mean tht you cannot face them.

They have often spoken to me as if I should have avoided the consequences, but what naivety! Consequences cannot be avoided, for every action, IN EVERY CASE… there is a reaction.

So, isn’t it better to face the consequence in your own way, even if it hurts and stay worse, rather than trying to avoid them? Among the advice they gave me the worst is not-doing.

My truth is awareness, of me.

My truth is knowing my whole self, mind, heart, body, soul (if there was one).

My truth is being aware of what I think, what I say. My truth is making the mistake, knowing I was making it, but instead of avoiding it making it anyway, why? Because it is inevitable and consequently necessary.

You are not stupid if you are wrong, on the contrary, you are more, inevitably aware.

My truth is

The whole.

Vi veri veniversum vivus vici.