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as honest as possible


Cats, you know, have nine lives and become of my being I have lived many lives, every day, every night ...
cats die, sometimes living in changing times are transformed.
I introduce myself, only Omar is a former Gattaccia black and my fourth life.
die is strange, it felt as if sucked by a great, great vacuum cleaner.
A sharp pain in the chest, head and body flying left helpless on the bank of river.
few minutes later, a strong sense of warmth, a strong light, such as the beacon of the dentist and then a deep breath as the end of a long breath.
The first time was a strange, terrible and wonderful at the same time but then you make your hand.
This is my fourth life, and as I said is not easy to see how it works, at least I took me a while '.
Here!
comes the vacuum cleaner, that's always the same, but then it changes, always.
Each time the light leaves the world can review, I realize that the point of view has changed.
In my life I was a black Gattaccia, origin, a black woman a bitch, a scolopendra and now I am a businessman who lives in Milan, but the great thing is that memories are always present, from life to life ...
Sometimes we get confused between one life and another, sometimes fun, sometimes we are ashamed, my life fuller and more difficult was the third. Being a whore
road is not easy when you choose to prostitute as you decide where and when you are entering into business. When you decide to make a whore you can also enjoy.
I never decided to make a whore, in my third life I found myself in the arms of a mother who died at 22 years, in that world, you're little girl for a while, then we should be given to do.
Also I in my turn, I had a child, the result of inexperience, then, one day, a white man, a tourist in my country said he wanted to help me, it was nice, I was a princess, maybe life can change, I thought, took me to Italy.
I was happy but my happiness was short-lived, very little.
I still remember the first time I saw that city, gray and rich, I thought I would start to make a normal life, work and devote myself to my daughter, I dreamed of normality. On the third day
Maximus, that was the name the bastard, took away my little Nadine, so he hit me, raped me, I said I was his and that henceforth I should only do what he commanded me, obey him.
If I did, I would not have seen my baby, my Nadine.
The beginning was terrible, I met the most horrible of the Italians.
On the road in winter was cold, and I had to wear only a loincloth and white of my dreams disillusioned.
But I could not give up my little Nadine, was my life, I would die for her, so every night I died a bit 'more.
I was a black woman a bitch for years, I do not know how many, I had already stopped counting the days, months, years ...
My baby was growing, and it was just what I had at heart, but even greater anxiety grew in my heart she would have ended on the road as soon as the bastard would have wanted.
I was the whore of old farmers that no could love, their bodies and their amorphous stench would expel anyone but me, like so many black woman a bitch.
I was the whore of young, old, thousands of married men, gay and who wanted to prove themselves to be of large males.
I was the bitch of some priests, even a cardinal.
I was the whore of a woman, who through their kindness I enjoy a bit of finesse.
I was the whore of wicked men, they wanted my ass, my mouth, they wanted the pee pee, and I was to them, only briefly, for the price they were willing to pay.
the morning to take the bastard came back at 7.
Once he waited until 10 o'clock, I was afraid, I thought I had left and had taken my daughter, now no longer needed to me, could begin to abuse her, my little Nadine.
I cried, I cried, I despaired.
A man stopped, came over to my side, got out.
was approaching, I thought I wanted my sex, there at that time, I was afraid, but he had eyes of blue sky, the reflections of the sea in my eyes.
He asked me if I was OK, his name was Paul, I am reassured by his calm and penetrating voice, I calmed down, I told him my story, I told him I was afraid.
It was not like other men, had something different, embracing smile. I wrote
the number of his cell, I did not want to take it, it was too dangerous, he told me that if I needed I could call it, took it.
At that moment came that bastard Max, I went to him at once, I turned around.
A tear left a salty groove on my face, I told my tormentor that it was a customer who wanted to waste time.
back home, not a word came out of my mouth.
I found my daughter in tears, hugged her strong, there was no need for explanations.
The bastard had abused my baby, he had beaten her and said that soon she would be exploited as me.
I was desperate, I did not know what to do, I cried and felt my heart burst.
Massimo said that in a few months even Nadine would begin to pay what they ate.
I cried all morning and all night in the street, I was desperate, I could not let the monster do the same with my baby.
took a handkerchief and fell down the card with the number of Paul. A full write and circulate.
At that moment I was reminded of that angel.
I asked the customer to make a call, I called him desperate, it was dark, they arrived within minutes.
I never understood anything about men, I was always wrong according to my impressions.
But this time it was as if the presence, just the thought of the man to give me serenity and then it was my only chance, I could, I had to try, at least for my daughter.
arrived worried, came and I went in his car.
I cried, I cried a lot and I hug him, he was very soft, very honest.
He tried to reassure me, took my hand and spoke to me with her voice serene times looking into my eyes.
made me a thousand questions, wanted to know details, addresses, names, actions, I opened as never before, I opened my heart, my mind, I entrusted him with my body, my soul.
In my heart I was afraid, I had horrible misgivings that he was like other men.
the morning at 7 am the bastard came back to pick up his package, me!
I went back to that place that was not a house, I hugged my baby who slept and slept with her, hug.
We were hugging in bed, I remember like it was yesterday, we were suddenly awakened by a sound impressive, someone was knocking down the door, "thieves" I thought.
Another knock on the door and a lot of confusion, masked men came in, had the gun in his hand and cried, cried. Me and Nadine
we lay under the bed.
trembled and did not understand what was happening.
We heard screaming again, the bastard was in the house, slowly I realized that those were not robbers but police, we felt that Max was arrested.
We stayed under the bed in fear, trembling, I thought there would be beaten, that they too were abusing us, we heard footsteps slowly even in the room where we were,
took my hand and gave me strength to come out, I force a bit, 'but then I came out with Nadine, we cried and we were hugging, senivo my daughter's heart burst.
hooded man made me so much too afraid, I gave my life to protect the baby.
threw me against the man, grabbed his head with force and in the confusion of that gesture took off my hat that covered him completely.
I was speechless, Paul, when I saw his eyes and his face in a hatch smile I threw at him even stronger, hugged him, kissed him on the cheek, not stopped thanking him for as long as it was with us.
Paul was my angel that day I was no longer the black woman a bitch, thanks to him.
followed our case and helped us, I became a free woman, the social workers helped me to integrate myself to find a job, Nadine inserted in a public school.
One day Paul, with whom I continued to have great friends picked me up at work,
now two years had passed since my release.
Paul was strange that day, tense, anxious.
We stopped at the park, at a time when he hugged me and burst out crying, I did not understand.
I looked into his eyes, wiped his tears and patted him on the face, I waited until he began to speak, did not want to force it, he continued to cry, I've never seen him so vulnerable.
"Alyssa, I'm gay, I like men, have not been honest with you but no one knows my secret, I know everything about you, I've opened my heart and you left your soul to me, I must be honest with you, "sobbed
and the sun, reflected in his tears, made him look even more beautiful.
Paul, joie de vivre and love of my life, I love you, your delicacy, your honesty, your way of loving the people, their sensitivity with whom you have welcomed me and Nadine in your life, in my life there is more room for sex and not what interests me in the street life there is only room for gratitude and affection for the 'unconditional love, you're in my heart more than ever, you will be forever. Grace more and more for your gentle sincerity. "
Love is a feeling that goes beyond sex, beyond reason, beyond the sharing
love is in friendship, loyalty, the sun rising every morning, in the smile of a child in an embrace.
Love is within us and when someone in the evolution of life, manages to pull off at least an ounce, you will belong to him your heart.

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The Lost Dreams


A ray of sunshine he gap between the laces of thick red curtain of room to Thomas.
That morning awakening was not as sweet as the other mornings.
The light of day again pierced his eye that he fell down suddenly in the real world but the jump was not muffled as usual from the sweet and comforting dreams every night. That morning
Thomas did not remember anything, it was as if he had drawn in his Latvian fairy a minute before, no white rabbit to chase, no mad hatter, no fairy ebony solletichino not even a mouse, nothing.
The nights were full of Thomas games, smiles, magic spells and that circus was the only power that would give him the strength to endure his miserable life.
The sun gave a warm caress, but Thomas wanted to return that night, immediately, an eclipse.
Six years were just trying to escape the poverty of life, but Thomas, who grew up too quickly, they fled every day. Four years
social services took him into foster care separated from its mother, a prostitute, drug addict, who had tried to sell it to buy a dose.
was entrusted to a strange uncle who, being rich, he could hire the best lawyers and have the boy with him, even if single and elderly.
The loving care of his uncle lasted a little disinterested, or at least those with nothing in return.
Thomas had a beautiful room with red curtains and thick that blocked the light in the summer days, the walls were colored drawings and prints depicting cheerful cheerfully juggling clowns.
Although the colors and games in which his uncle segregated Thomas had a fear of that damn room, a feeling that arises in the stomach and moves into the heart ...
Then those clowns! Thomas had a macabre theory, when the sun was setting, where watched them thoroughly, he could see the subtle movements in their faces, devilish smile, even once saw that showed a sharp teeth stained with blood.
The care of his uncle and was soon to become the most pressing and particular time of the evening bath each time was a way to explain the small wonders of the body.
Thomas, still too young to understand everything, rely on the care of the man on the slide.
Slowly, over the months, my uncle taught Thomas to play with his mature body, telling that that was their secret, their special world, but when Thomas, increasingly, he refused to play was punished with brutal violence, physical and psychological. Thomas
often thought to his mother, now the memories were becoming ever more precious and faded when he remembered hugging him at night, whispering as he spoke the loved her and asking forgiveness for not being the mother that he deserved.
He embraced the strong, stronger than ever and wanted nothing more.
now the only night he had a friend in her fairy world Thomas could be who she wanted, one night was the king of contortionists, another passionate reading of sacred texts that contained huge secret, and still another is carried away by waves in the world of Neptune.
Every night of his life began and the world that most call the "dream world" for him was home.
was June 17, 1979, Thomas stood on the pier before returning to the castle of his uncle, watching the sun, the sea, the birds fly over his head, then understood.
would not be able to go home, now my uncle also had control of that!
He thought there was only one way to escape from that world forever bitter and take refuge in his dream world, in his house ... He looked up
challenging gaze at the sun, the wind gave him a caress, as the mother time first, he thought the sirens a few days earlier had led him into the abyss, he threw himself into the waves of that sea. The blue of the sea embraced
Thomas and the sirens began to hand the child should no longer satisfied with his uncle.
finally felt the freedom to grow in him, that sense of anxiety and fear left him, a creature of sea \u200b\u200bcame up to him more than the others, had wonderful colors, beautiful diamonds on his back through his hair and purple flowers of the sea.
The siren came in front of Thomas, hugged him before he could see her face.
It was a warm embrace, which he well remembered, embraced him and whispered even stronger plan
"I knew I'd found Mom, you're my biggest dream."

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February, contradictions and balance

Good evening!

I am writing to update you briefly last month.
February was just proverbially short. Intense, but still short.

My Dutch life is basically turned things around two things: Winter Olympics in Vancouver and holidays Spring.
A contradiction, making the case. Winter or Spring?
The landscape itself is also in contradiction : the first buds begin to see themselves among the frozen grass in the morning, the first swallows flying over the clear sky, but you are still unable to ride a bike without gloves . This is the situation. From inside the house is just a sweet illusion, but the thermometer takes you back to the harsh reality. But it was not like the end of February ... definitely! We affected, albeit briefly and somewhat thankfully, the devastating disruption that has left its traces to be impressive in Portugal, France. Fortunately, at least here, has meaning only an unspeakably strong wind accompanied, of course, rain, rain and rain. Yet now everything is so different that seems to separate life from those days (I'm basically just talking about on Sunday!).

For the rest, things are looking very good, flows gently around me. What I was upset or just plain wrong is back / coming back slowly in her place, since my approach to life every day with my trusty bike, with my alarm Dawn (now I can tell, the sun finally rises before me out of the house!), with table games, with the buttered bread, with this cold March just started with my long hair oddly, with my classmates. But I am also referring to other things bigger, more important.
The trick is simply a bit of positivity, but can not collect you from nowhere. Thank you for this who is there to thank those who know they gave me a smile, a bit 'of strength or luck. But the effort not to frustrate these gifts you must do. But yes, it will power a good portion of the time!

also for my country host been a strange month this February.
E 'fallen government. But who cares, if we took eight medals at the Olympics? Believe me, that's how things work here. All very calmly said that patience was not good government. But when Sven has been a lack of gold to a technical error (wrong lane, he had the best time), definitely has appeared to all be a tragedy! What about some aspects and priorities of this country are understandable a few!

What to say instead of this sudden March ?
was definitely feeling very contrasting are aroused by these five letters in me. Needless to say, joy and pain. Because the days are now past 194, even those who are in this strange earth are about 120. Considering all the pros and cons of that sentence is logical that these two conflicting feelings (seems to be the key concept of intervention!) To predominate in me. But on the other hand, there is still time, in the meantime I'm enjoying my day Here we deal with some more effort and a smile.

I left out all the criticism that I wanted to do to my home country , criticism of a number of arguments, of course, first of all the bad Olympics, but I passed under the table so I had the pleasure (more dis really pleased for the results of our blue) instead of following with great interest and perseverance.
so I prefer to close my speech, this time.

I wish you all the best, my dear readers, from a good night.
From the country that there is more strange (with a lot of eyewitnesses who can confirm it), over and out,

Roberta

What Happens When I Wash My Northface Fleece?

Akinfa

Akinfa

Finally I read a text to document what is this "gift of self, moved" that the charity is a text that gave me a friend of ours on the piano Russian Maria Judin, that he had moved even Stalin, says this:

"Just in my group there was a nuisance, a boy of eight to nine years, practically without family, who lived with relatives who do not loved and was loved not named Akinfa; was irritating, teasing everyone laughed at the Jewish children, squabbling, and so on. All of us, and above all that I had the responsibility, urged him by word and example, but once it passed all limits Akinfa: beat one of the companions, adults taken ill words, and so made a pilferage was decreed his expulsion.

When it came time to execute the sentence, the time of posting I do not know how, I burst into tears, and at this point was the second birth of Akinfa: he burst into tears He begged forgiveness from all, made the haul and since then always followed me all over the field like a faithful dog, he explained that everyone in his life he had never seen a teacher was crying for his pupil, who was crying, to put it in his own words, "on the soul and the life of a brat" was just that his sense of wonder and desire to get back on the road. "

This is what Christ does: this gift of self until the mourning for our destiny. This is the charity that you can also see in the emotion of a teacher in front of a child. It strikes me that this is the emotion of God, the mystery for each of us, anything that has happened.