a V@g's diary

Writing of witches and women


November 2016

The blues: a lesson you need to learn alone…

Let’s face it: being sad sucks big time. Nobody likes feeling down, depressed, alone. Nobody enjoys it. Still, we all will, sooner or later. And, unfortunately, more than once in a lifetime. I mean, literally.

Sadness is part of the game. It is like the advertising time right before the end of your favorite TV show. Or, more likely, is every lesson, we are obliged to follow before and after break time on an average School Friday, right before vacations.  But it is not just this. At the same time, it is a path that needs to be walked alone. First, cause nobody can understand us better than ourselves. And, also, cause to the others, whoever they are, our sadness matters up to a certain point.  Don’t panic. They are not a bunch of haters. They are just normal human beings, honestly annoyed by our constant whining. And  it is ok this way, cause the hard times in life are a class that needs to be taken and understood. And if you spend your time chatting with your mate about whatever… you are not properly following the lesson. You do not have to rush through it. No need to. It will be over, when the right time comes.

Whenever we are sad and lonely, there is no need to feel  guilty. I know. The thought is there. ‘I am here, by myself. I thought I was a decent human being, but probably, I am not. Because nobody seems to be willingly happy to hang out with me, not even the neighbor’s cat’. It is dreadful.  And it is wrong. Cause it is a lie. A big fat lie we are telling to ourselves. We need to switch point of view and understand that social interactions are always an effort. We-  closed in our individuality – make an effort to be sympathetic with others.  We make an effort to understand them. And to relate with them. Others do the same with us. But, when we are fine we are open to their world. When we are sad, we are just too focus on our pain. And this is when the connection breaks.

One more consideration, is about life in general. We are born alone and (I know nobody wants to hear this but I am going to say it anyway) we are going to die alone. No matter how many people will be around us, no matter how many words we will hear, we will be alone as the last Rhino of the African Savanna. And once again, our pain will be just ours.

Maybe, the best way to face loneliness and sadness is embracing them. Understanding that they offer us something valuable, something that belongs to us and only to us. Their words are a whisper made only for our ears. My sadness, and  whatever I will learn from it, are just meant to be mine. Different from yours, cause my past and the society in which I grew up, are different.

And again, loneliness and sadness won’t last forever. Nothing does. Not happiness, sadly not even love. We won’t last forever, like this word and after the right amount of billions and trillions of years, even this universe.

Sometimes we feel lonely. And it is absolutely fine. Sometimes we are sad. And it is cool anyway.  We won’t understand happiness without sadness. Actually, sadness itself is teaching us how important is living fully every single happy moment that time grants us. And trust me, time is a stingy ass.




Tic, toc…unhappily sings the clock

Tic… Toc. Every two minutes a woman, somewhere on earth, gets raped.

Tic… Toc. How many since now? One? Two?  Time passes and the count increases. In Italy, and only in Italy, more than 110 women this year have been killed by someone close to them. An husband. A brother. An ex- lover. An ex -boyfriend.

A woman a week… even more.

Tic… Toc. Last February, close to Naples, Paolo set on fire his girlfriend, Carla, eight months pregnant. She survived. Will she be the same? Probably not.

Tic… Toc. Maria, last November, was stabbed 26 times by her brother for money. He was a drug addict and she did not want to pay for his addiction. She wanted to save him. She was the one protecting  him and defending  him until the day she died.

Tic… Toc. In July Loretta was killed with a hammer by her husband. But, ehy… he was sorry. He went to the police, he even told the cops what he did. Sadly, no matter how he feels, she is dead. The reason? Apparently, she did not like the way he put the luggage into the truck of the car, before leaving for the holiday.

Tic… Toc. In June Maria, 9 years old, has been raped and killed… then abandoned in a stream. Her killer has not been found yet. She was smiling, always smiling. She was just a little girl.

The list is way longer. All of these women have been killed by someone they knew. Someone they trusted. Someone, for whom they maybe even stood up for. It’is an army, and it is not the worst part of the story.

The worst part it’s that, out there, there’re still way too many people that minimize or, even, excuse abuses and violence against women. Saying something like… ‘That skirt was too short’. Or: ‘She was drunk’. Or: ‘He was out of his mind, he loved her so much’.

If I was a man, and not V@g, I would feel  humiliated by these positions. What do you mean? That I cannot control myself? Do you mean I am weak? Powerless against my own instincts? My darkness? If I was a man I would be disgusted and horrified. But I am V@g. And the only thing I can say is: “What if she was your daughter… your mother… or your sister? Or maybe, even yourself?”.

Tic… Toc… the clock keeps running. Three, five, one thousand more. Tic… Toc.

Wish I could say love


About the fear of trusting and the strength of kindness

So, what’s the big deal when trusting someone? There is a limit? What’s the meaning of ‘loosing time’ in giving space to a dude… or anyone, generally speaking? What’s the rule? As a V@g, I am usually fairly cynic. A guy meets a girl. A guy likes the girl. A guy tries to have sex with the girl. This is what’s going on in an ideal world. Or, I would say, when you are in your Twenties, which is more or less the same thing (don’t get me wrong here, I am sure that out there is an army of twenty-something that have already gone through a lot of shit). But what if you are not in your Twenties? What if you are in your Forties and you are approaching to the dating – dance, or to any kind of human interaction a little deeper than supermarket greetings followed by “Where do I find toilet paper here?” – as a woman (or a man) with her own baggage of experience, wasted expectations and sassy attitude?

Social interactions are like crossing a bridge between two different universes, two edges of a river. You can decide of running or walking slowly. But if you stay on your side without moving, you will be the only one loosing something. A possibility of discovering a nice landscape, different maybe from the one you are used to see.

But how to do it?  How and why trusting the bridge? Why even paying attention to that bridge?  My nana would have said: with trust and kindness, without doing something foolish like jumping in the water. When I was twenty I did not understand her completely. I was actually getting mad at her. Now, I think I got the point.

Trust and kindness are two notions that have the power of changing in time. The idea you have when you are younger is not the same as the concept you hold when you are older. The difference, is you. You lived longer, saw more things and experienced more pain. As you evolve, your thoughts change with you. They become deeper and if you are lucky, kinder. Let me tell you something. Those that after being hurt become brittle and cold are not the strongest but the weaker. They are those who got scared, those that took shelter in the deepest part of their soul. Those who are afraid of everything, especially of themselves.

The strongest are the kindest. Because they have understood that being hurt is just part of life. It just happens. A child learning how to walk will eventually fall. Same thing, when you are dealing with other fellow humans. You cannot control others and you cannot fix them. The only thing you can do is choosing; you can choose either of offering them your time either of letting them out your life. Don’t open the door. It is your pick. When you are rushing through your years, when you blood run faster cause you are thirsty for living, your choice will probably be cutting them off and keep running. Not cause you are selfish. Just cause there are so many things you want to see. Time for you has a different meaning. When the race slows down, cause you understand that the path is icy, the air foggy and you have seen way many others falling down the cliff, your perception changes. Your attitude too.

As a V@g, my only rule is to respect myself: my will, my desires, even my silly attitudes. I feel as I am my own goddess. There is no other voice that counts. No other will that I consider if I do not want to. But at the same time I do not want to be rude or scared. Cause this would mean that I am judging others through the eyes of my past. I let my bad past experiences defining who I am right now. Being kind and trustful is a choice. You can give your trust easily or not. You can be cautious or wildly open. It is still you making a conscious decision. More important, I understood that I do not need to fear trusting people, because I trust myself. I know that even if people will eventually let me down, I won’t lose my wings. There is no need of being rude. No need of being weak. No need of being scared. I am no little bird. I am a dragon and there is nothing in this world or in the other that could possibly harm me more than my own fear.

Be brave. Trust yourself and be kind. The path is hard enough without us being cunts with one another



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