Sylvia's writing to freedom

The double face of the Italian “mama” 28/05/2011

While chatting with my daughter A. in the garden, I shared a story with her about our next door girl. I watched an abusive event a couple of days ago. The window of my studio overlooks the garden and the front door of my neighbors. This event is a story out of many that I witnessed during my stay in Italy over the last 5 years. The vicious face of “la mama” within families and parenting in general within traditional Italian society. Maybe one has to be an out stander of Italian tradition and upbringing to see and point out when discipline and parental love are nothing more than abuse.

I looked up while working in my studio, when I heard the click of the front door of my neighbor’s house. My neighbor left the house, seemingly hasty, with a letter and car keys in her hands. While this tall skinny lady swirled like a light feather down her stairs, the front door closed with a bang. She turned around and fire was coming from her eyes. She went up the stairs again, however this time she climbed it in a rude and male way. With one turn of the key she opened the front door on a crack and screamed through the crack at her daughter. The 11 year old daughter and only child, was alone in the house.The mom, my neighbor, yelled at her child that she wasn’t allowed to slam the door. The rest of the screaming I wasn’t able to decode, but it was certainly not a nice chat between mother and daughter. My neighbor closed softly the front door again and left the house on her way to her car. Through the small, but tall window next to the front door, I saw the little girl standing with her head down and arms hanging beside her body, attached to the glass for several minutes. Eventually she moved herself back into the living room. These rage attacks of her mom are common and sometimes more than one at a day. To me this is abuse, for Italians in general this is normal life. The “mama” is the boss within the house and rules with a firm hand, no one is allowed to argue with that.

I asked A. for her perspective on this event and she confirmed that this is indeed “normal” behaviour for our neighbor. Where my other neighbor, a lady from Albania, goes into possessive anger, the anger of the Italian “mama” has always been in this vicious way. So in fact nothing new, although within the light of our current world, possession is only 1 step further. 1 Back chat too much and Italian “mama’s” are feed for journalists and tv-shows. Even murder is only 1 back chat away. Abusing your child and emotionally scarfing them for life is unacceptable. What living example are you as a mother when you rule with the tool of fear? How can we expect these girls to be different from their mothers when their only experience is one of being hit and yelled at? When is Italy going to step out of their traditions that clearly do more harm than good?

Then A. told me about last Sunday when she went rock climbing with 2 girls and their dad. She had not yet spoken about it. When I asked how the climbing had been she only told me about her climbing results. The dad of the girls had been quite abusive in his language towards the daughters. He presumed them as lazy and bad climbers, while they’re absolutely not. Climbing is this dad’s passion and how such things go within families, the children are exposed to it and join in. These girls are teenagers and it wouldn’t be a surprise if they rather stay in bed than hanging from a cliff at 8:30 on Sunday morning. The attitude of this man towards his daughters had left such an impression on A. that she had tears in her eyes while speaking about it. How can a dad be so mean, she asked. Frustration I said, this dad wants his kids to be even better than than he is. It’s only an idea, a picture in his mind and when reality does not meet with his fantasy he gets pissed. And being pissed at his kids as an Italian dad seems to us like abuse. I even dare to say that it is abuse, because the equality equation cannot be made within most of these kind of incidents.

When you look at the reactions of Italian kids you know that it is abuse. I once saw pure fear in the eyes of a girlfriend of A. She and A. had been playing outside in the rain and were completely wet. To me no problem, change clothes and the issue is solved. This girl however feared the hands of her mother so much that she went into a total panic attack. She could reassure us that she was going to be hit by her mom for being wet and even a little bit dirty. At first we couldn’t believe her, but it didn’t take long for us to find out that it was exactly as the girl had told us.

Recently I read some stories written by an Italian lady where she tells how her mother would hit her in the face. At home or in front of people and only to release her frustrations. She pointed it out as typical Italian behaviour, for a mom it’s her right to do so. Maybe this behaviour occurs also in other Southern European countries or Latin countries that have a matriarch system. I have no idea, my experience is within the Italian culture and that’s my only starting point for sharing these stories.

For me this point of aggressive verbal and physical abuse is quite a difficult point to cope with. I simply cannot allow or accept any form of abuse, though when this point is discussed the players of the game do not understand what I’m talking about. That’s how it is and that’s how we do it, they say. It’s the always the same and repeating answer on my question. Abusive behaviour by parents isn’t exclusively for Italians, but Italian culture allows abuse to be in their midst. Humanity will not be killed by mysterious elite groups, humanity will distinct by their own doing if they do not change. Denying abuse for what it is, is denying our own dark side, which doesn’t make it go away. Abuse is abuse and therefore unacceptable.


A player in the female meat market 21/05/2011

This morning while going to my cleaning job at the inn/b&b of my friends J.&A., I met a Canadian guy and had a nice chat with him. We exchanged information after he asked me how life is as an expat in Italy. We almost finished the conversation when his wife walked towards us. She said, hi Sylvia how are you doing and gave me the looks of don’t touch my man. For a split second I wondered how she knew my name since I didn’t know the lady, but I saw that she had been talking to another guest who I did know. The guy walked towards his wife and she grabbed him and started kissing him, while looking at me. A weird experience to be seen as a rival while not at all being romantically occupied with this guy who was in his late fifties.

So when this couple said goodbye to the other guest and left, I asked A. if she had witnessed what just happend. She hadn’t so I told her. A. told me that their stay had been nothing than a pain in the ass, but this jealous behavior she hadn’t witnessed yet. Before this couple came over they communicated that they were holistic and were also eating in a holistic way, they sent over a list with the whole foods they didn’t eat. The first night, J. as a chef  served rabbit, rabbit was not on the black list. The wife started being difficult and refused to eat the rabbit. So A. asked which part of the rabbit wasn’t whole food, the wife couldn’t give a strait answer. Finally she said she didn’t feel like eating rabbit. Then she told J. that she wasn’t going to follow his lessons in the cooking school, because she was probably better than him. J. said, well fine don’t take a lesson if you can’t learn anything from me. She took the lesson and made it into a disaster for all the other students. When the guest were gathering one night and everybody was sharing stories and having a good time, the wife kept loudly whispering, “who cares about your story”. So this morning J.&A. were glad that the couple left.

This morning I was the icing on the cake within this Canadian lady her spite tour through Italy. Immediately when I was reflecting on the event I looked inside if there had been a moment where I had been thinking things like, what a nice man, what a hot guy, I wish he was mine, what a cute guy or being attracted to certain body parts. Non of that had happend, not even for a tiny moment, I just spoke to a being and it happend to be a male and a husband. I can do a lot of guessing about the wife’s motive for being wrongly jealous together with the spitefulness she exhibited, but I won’t. I’m only referring to the take off, of a long term judgement day that started today. These extreme reactions will be soon frequently witnessed and we better prepare ourselves to stand for life as life and not be taken down by our own mind-possessions and ego.

The whole event let me wonder of for a moment about the fact that this lady saw me as a potential rival and a man guzzler. I was almost laughing about the fact that this man would consider a fantasy with a bald cleaning lady.  I always imagined that jealous wife’s would react on gorgeous young fashionable girls, how wrong could I be.

So that makes me part of the female meat market again and I had no idea that I was a player…

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to have the idea that only beautiful women could tempt men into affairs.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to have the opinion that I do not fit into the category of women that can tempt men into affairs.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to see myself as less beautiful than the pictures of beautiful women in my mind.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate within the polarity of less and more and think that I’m less attracted.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to separate myself by labeling myself as someone that doesn’t play on the female meat market, because I do not have the looks anymore.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to not see myself as worthy as a woman.


Don’t be a killjoy, just join the party 16/05/2011

An acquaintance of us called today, she asked if we were able to come over next Friday for a mattresses sales party. My partner P. spoke to her on the phone and said that he hadn’t planned on buying mattresses and surely not these expensive ones. 2 years ago we went to a similar party, not to buy, but simply to mingle with the people of the new village we lived in. These kind of products are only sold through parties and are of “such good quality” that you need a loan in order to be able to buy one. The prices are really over valued. So P. hit off the invitation.

The lady told P. that she needed a certain amount of people on her party in order to receive €300,-. Her husband has a pension, which is a joke here in Italy. She runs their B & B, but tourism is this year even slower than last year. So the €300,- that was offered by the salesman, she could really use well. These are people that even with little money still give to others that are in more need than themselves. The 8 months in which we had no money except for a bank loan and some gifts from family, they gave us now and then some meat from their own grown animals. P. agreed on attending to the party if money shortage was the motivation.

My first reaction was, ‘no, I will not participate’. As I see it, this is manipulation through money and therefore unacceptable. This acquaintance of us 2 years ago was really negative about the mattresses and was even spiteful towards the salesman. She admitted that she didn’t like the product and was only in the game for the money. It seems that if it wasn’t for the €300,- bonus nobody was willing to lend his house for a party. If it wasn’t for the money the host gets, almost nobody would ever go to such parties. So we’re  maintaining these parties by allowing and accepting the manipulation in the name of money. To me that’s the world in reverse.

My second reaction was one of guilt towards this lady that had been good to us when we had financial troubles. This could be the moment to return a favour, but I couldn’t make 1+1= 2. The reason that we were in major financial problems had it’s core problem in our behavior throughout the years of separating ourselves from the system. Once we saw this, we addressed it and we slowly are climbing up from the pit. Everybody has his own issues to face and I’m not helping these people out by allowing and accepting manipulation and abuse in the name of money. They have still a few financial issues that really can be solved. Stop smoking would save money, stop spending money on the kids that is more than their fair share, certainly  when the family budget is small. Relatives give big amounts of money to the kids of this couple to spend on useless stuff and candy. They borrow from their own kids in the age of 14 and 11 to be able to get food on the table. These relatives need to understand what they are causing with their generously donating money without really considering the situation and what’s best for all.

Therefore I’ll stick to my first reaction and will not attend the party. I already gave some clothes still in good shape to their youngest daughter. It might not be much, but I see it as practical help to give clothes a second life when still in good shape. The girl loves it, because they are my daughter A. her clothes, the girls best and older friend. I rather keep helping people out in my neighborhood by practical help and not through sustaining a sick money system.


Multitasking or not? 11/05/2011

It’s already my third or fourth blog on this subject, however the point is opening up now and revealing more of its origin. It’s the point of learning Italian. I really wanted to start with translating English into Italian, but I have to realise that it was a desire that blew myself back into reality. I’m simply not ready to translate without totally being corrected afterwards. The idea I had formed was tempting, I figured that through translating the language of equality I would become able to write and speak the equality language in Italian. Just immediately skipping the unequal words so I won’t have to deal with so much word definitions as I would have by learning the language as it is within daily life society.

I noticed again that I didn’t progress with my understanding or speaking of the Italian language. One day I sat in the car and decided to trace the heavy feeling that accompanied my lack of progress. The word laziness popped up right away, I was surprised, within my perception I’ve been working and trying real hard to master  the language. That’s in fact so true, I’ve been moving myself as if I walked through a swamp. Heavy and almost too much effort to enjoy it any longer. I felt resistance and didn’t recognize that it was me holding me back.

I also felt ashamed for being lazy. There are so many things I put lots of effort in and those things succeed, progress. So if I’m lazy on this point that means that I do not take fully my responsibility. Ouch, that hurts, not fully taking my responsibility means that also ego is interfering within this point. Mmmm, I wasn’t expecting to find ego within this point of struggling to master a new language. So I’m not fully taking my responsibility while swimming up the mud flows and not getting any further. I must have known that there was something smelling fishy.

Then I read a chat with Bernard and saw his words saying that one cannot study and absorb information while having a back chat about it. This was just the nail on his head. Not that I was yet fully admitting it to myself, but I had noticed that I had a hard time absorbing the materials in order to learn the language. Bernard’s words meant that we cannot do 2 things at the time and when we have a back chat running then all is inferior to that. So when the back chat is running there is no ability to learn the Italian language.

Therefore I had to look into my back chat, what kind of back chat do I have about the Italian language. Wow, I’d better not ask myself, because that was the mud flow I was swimming against. My back chat was the following: Why should I learn a language when I have to talk bullshit and weather talk with people I do not want to talk with in the first place. Why should I learn the language of a country that has an asshole like Berlusconi in power, a population that puts the pope and television above common sense, a nation that is fucked up within religion and tradition. Do I want to compromise myself with such a country by learning and speaking the language of fascists?

So I have extensive back chat about the language and criticism about the nation and population, yet I do want to live in Italy and enjoy living in a small town in Central Italy. That’s quite dishonest to say the least and really something to tackle. If Italian society is making me puke, where do I need to go and find a country to live where the principle of what’s best for all is already applied for 100%? I better get the hell on with learning the language to become effective and able to be part of the change. The change that no matter what, will happen.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to boycot myself by preferring to participate within the back chat.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to feel frustrated for not being able to speak and write the Italian language in such an extent that I can be an effective being within society.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be dishonest and not really wanting to learn the language for spiteful reasons.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to allow my back chat.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be spiteful towards Italians and Italy.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to not fully take my responsibility when it comes to learning Italian.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to feel heavy and lazy and not wanting to see that it’s the back chat I’m dealing with.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to let ego have a say in learning Italian.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to feel ashamed about my laziness when it comes to learning a language.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to limit myself through the back chat about the Italian language.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to desire to speak/write equality Italian.


I honestly hate that smell and I self-honestly need to direct myself 10/05/2011

Just beside the fence at the entrance of my garden grows a Viburnum Laurustinus bush. In winter it bears fruit, like little deep red berries, in May it starts to blossom with little white flowers. When this bush is in bloom it produces an unpleasant foul scent and at this time of the year the wind blows happily around the house and brings this scent everywhere in the air. To me this intense foul scent smells like kitten diarea. Whenever I pass the bush or the wind is blowing my way I hold my breath.

The first year, while living in this house, I couldn’t figure out where the foul smell came from. Till I found out by opening and closing the fence that it was the bush. The smell was so intense that it made me feel sick and the more attention I gave it the more dirty it smelled. My kids and partner did also smell it, but to them it wasn’t a deterrent foul smell and they didn’t pay much attention to it. I was simply convinced that this was the most dirty foul smell I had ever smelled in my whole life. Last year the bush didn’t have a really strong scent, so I thought I was doing okay and figured I wasn’t giving it as much attention as the year before. This year, however the bush produces a strong scent again and my strong reaction is totally back.

The fact that I honestly admitted that I felt disgusted by the foul smell, was me being honest about a possessive feeling that was going on inside my mind. I payed attention to this feeling and kept it this way alive within my mind. So I did not lie, I was telling the truth that was inside my mind. I didn’t realise that being honest about this feeling towards myself and my surrounding, was not only giving attention to the feeling, I was also participating within a polarity of honesty and dishonesty. Which practically meant that I was honest about my feeling and at the same time dishonest about why I wanted to give attention to this feeling by not looking for the starting point in self-honesty within myself.

When I’m self-honest I can see that I’m giving attention to a feeling of being disgusted by a scent. The disgust originates from a memory I got after repeatedly cleaning kitten diarea, which I labeled and stored as a foul smell within my mind. So what basically happens is, whenever I smell the bush my mind says foul smell as the feeling that’s attached to the memory of the kitten diarea. Since it’s a polarity I’m looping within this thought structure and I’m generating only energy with it. The only reason I keep on doing this useless and unnecessary ritual is because I’m hooked on the energy.

It’s simply being a junk, happy with its drugs to get to fantasy mindfuck land and for that short period of time not having to take responsibility. A distraction of what is here and not being my own directive principle. At first it looked so innocent, but after 3 spring times I couldn’t say anymore, it’s the smell that disgusts me, instead of seeing that I was disgusting myself by not taking my responsibility and not being my own directive principle.

The next question to ask is, when honesty and dishonesty are a polarity, what does that make self-honesty? Is self-honesty the polarity of self-dishonesty? No it isn’t, self-dishonesty is honesty. It’s the honesty according to the system we live in. The honesty of which people say they cannot practice it all the way within the system, you can’t always be honest they say. Indeed, you can’t always be honest in expressing all your thoughts/emotions/feelings, that’s in itself already being dishonest. Dishonest from the starting point of fueling thoughts/emotions/feelings and accumulating energy.

Therefore self-honesty isn’t debatable, it’s what’s best for all found in the depths of self.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate within the polarity of honest and dishonest.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be enslaved by energy.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to abdicate my responsibility and give attention to mind realities such as energy.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to disgust myself for not being my own directive principle.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to believe a smell is disgusting and foul.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate within the pattern of giving attention to a feeling.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate within the pattern giving attention to a thought.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to repeat myself in order to generate more energy.

When and as I see myself participating within this pattern of generating energy. I stop and I breathe. Within this I realize that the energy of this experience is directing me and I am not the directive force here. Thus I stop this participation in this energy as a thought that’s fueling the polarisation of honest and dishonest and do not participate, but breathe myself here in and as the physical.


I-witness of a murder 04/05/2011

Driving my daughter A. home from scooter theory lessons I almost got pushed off the road by a big truck. Within this split second of keeping my car on the road, I saw something orange and white tumbling on the road. A. started crying and then I understood that it was a cat. The truck tried to get around the cat on this country side road, came to my lane and almost bumped into my car. A. cried and said: ” did you see that mom?”

Yes, even in a split second I saw that this cat was horribly wounded. In the same split second I had all kind of options going through my mind. We need to stop and turn. We need to pick up the cat and find his owner. No, it will take too much time to find his owner. We need to take him back to town and see the vet. The vet is only a few moments in the week open for people to bring in their animals. What if we are there with an almost dying cat and the vet isn’t there. What a fuck up it’s all useless and I’m almost running out of gas so not much liberty to travel freely.

I decided to drive home and not interfere in this event, since no outcome seemed to be in the best interest of all. A. was still crying softly, she also wanted to do something for the cat. She experienced it as not being fair and she hated the image that was now burnt on her retina. I asked her if she thought that crying would help the cat in that moment and she understood it wasn’t. I asked her if she wanted to turn and get the cat. No, she didn’t because in the split second that I had done my equations also she had done hers. I didn’t want her to suppress her emotions and feelings so I let her be and let her cry a bit.

After a while we talked again, but A. didn’t allow me to talk about the accident. When I look back on the on the whole event the polarities were all over the place. The polarity of good and bad made it difficult for me to see what to decide what to do. The same polarity made A. cry. The polarity of crying or suppressing, fair and unfair. It shows so much that our society and we as humans are steeped in polarity. These polarities who generate thoughts within our minds and attach feelings/emotions to it, are showing us the real enslavement. Once we’re hooked on these feelings/emotions they generate energy which is the real drug. It’s a pattern that has a spell that only can be broken through pure self-will. No rehab drug clinic can help us through this polarity enslavement.

A. didn’t want to talk about the accident anymore that day, until the next morning. At breakfast she suddenly said that she had experienced something really awful yesterday, but she wasn’t going to talk about it. Since my partner P. and son J. didn’t yet knew about it they asked what A. her announcement was all about. A. left the room saying that she didn’t want to talk about it. So when she left the others asked me what had happend. I told them the story and when A. came back into the room she asked if I had told the others about the accident. This seemed somewhat ought to me. She said she didn’t want to think about it anymore, but the image was still in her mind.

I slowly saw what had happend, the event was steeped in polarities and she had taken the fair and unfair part with it’s emotions/feelings and turned it into a pattern. By repeating the event/experience even indirectly through me, she already had this addiction to the polarity and the energy generated by the emotions/feelings. So polarity enslavement of the mind, which popped up a few other times today. I know A. loves all animals, but in this case her mind had picked the right subject to get her hooked on the energy. Something to work on.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate within the polarity of good and bad. Instead of seeing that whatever end of the polarity I had chosen it would always keep me within the polarity and it would lead me nowhere. Helping the cat within my limits would not bring any result in the best interest of all and leaving the cat to die would neither be in the best interest of all.

Today we after driving along the spot A. saw blood on the road, but the cat was gone. She figured the cat was rescued by it’s owners. That would be a nice ending of the story and it would set us free from any form of guilt. I know better of course, guilt is something only I can set me free of and not a nice ending of a story that brings me again in another polarity. It’s like my world is booby trapped with polarities, avoiding one can result in stepping on the next one.


Being robbed of self-trust 02/05/2011

While having a skype conversation with my parents, they told me that they had been the victims of a robbery. Their trailer which they use to go on holiday had been staying at several trailer workshops to fix issues that were still within the guarantee. I already wrote in another blog that my parents are real Houdini’s when it comes to manifesting whenever they buy something new. So this winter the aftermath of this creating process had to be fixed.

They went to the last workshop where they had left the trailer to pick it up and prepare it for a short holiday break. When they arrived nobody had taken the effort to take the trailer already to the parking area where my dad could hook it to the car. When the workshop owner finally got the trailer from the back of the shop, they discovered that the trailer still had to be cleaned. My parents arrived at 10 am and left  around lunchtime, too much relieved about the fact that they could finally leave, they didn’t check the trailer right away.

The moment they entered the trailer it was a mess inside. My mom immediately missed the quilts and pillows which I made them last year and other stuff that wasn’t theirs was lying in the bathroom. So my mom asked if the shop owner had mixed up things from other owners and if she could have here stuff back. The owner told them that they never moved stuff out of the trailers while being in repair. The trailer had traces of black soot and they found burnt matches everywhere along with my moms tea lights. After inspecting the trailer even more thoroughly they found out that a hatch on the outside was forced and that someone had gone inside the little box and made it’s entrance inside the trailer. The tables had been notched and all closets where searched and messed up. So either a junk or a homeless person had been sleeping in the trailer over the weekend and took the guilts and pillows with him/her after leaving.

While my parents spoke about the whole event and when they told me they had washed/scrubbed everything clean in order to be able to use it again. Meaning they had to wash away the memory and the nasty feelings of the back chat. My parents and I had in that moment the same a specific memory that popped up right away, my grandfather. After a burglary in the house of my grandparents, my grandfather changed mentally. He felt groped and almost assaulted after thieves went into their home while they were asleep. For weeks he spoke about this event of which I can see now that he was possessed with, this feeling of being groped/assaulted. He never spoke about the loss of the possessions/items the thieves had taken away, only about the feelings and emotions. Within little time he developed a tumor in his neck/throat which could be removed successfully, but the feelings/emotions still consumed him. He became a zombie and really sick, then the doctors found out he had lung cancer and within a few months he died. He died because he let himself being robbed of his self-trust, he didn’t feel safe anywhere anymore not even amongst his own family.

I told them, out of my own fear of losing them, that they better not let these feelings consume them just as had happened with my grandfather. It was my mom’s dad and she as well as I are carrying the genetical download of this family, better stop the pattern when it still can. My mom is really introvert, so lets see how this develops. Maybe a nice entrance to show them how to deal with these feelings and at the same time an almost impossible job when I consider that they do not understand that they are their own creator and therefore responsible for all within their life’s.

So when being robbed, it’s not so much the loss of a possession, it’s about the loss of a memory and feelings/emotions that are attached to the memory. I saw this really clear when my mom expressed that she’s really sick about not having the quilts anymore. The quilts that I, her daughter, made. It’s that exact memory, of me making those quilts for her, that turn those quilts as a memory into an entity which my mom now mourns over. Therefore when things are stolen from someone, that being is robbed of his/hers memories which have emotions/feelings attached to it. That feels as if something out of them/part of them is brutally taken away. Next they judge themselves and blame themselves for the fact that they could not protect themselves of being robbed. This results in the feeling that they do not have any self-trust left, it’s taken way. They allowed it to be taken away, they gave away their self direction, the moment they felt groped and assaulted. When one realises that this whole play out is a play out within the mind, an energetic game of moving your waters.

When we stick to what reality is offering us, we see inequality. One person is taking from another who has more than the other. We see someone that is living on the streets, out of mental or drug problems, someone who does not have a roof above his/her head. We see possessions that are no longer there and need to be replaced, which can be done painless within the current system through insurances as long as you belong to the people with money. But all of this is totally unnecessary when all have an equal start in life. Then we do not have to take from others and we do not need the existence of insurances that are feeding of the fear for a possible theft.

Lets rob humanity of fear and we then can finally dedicate our life’s to life instead of following a mind reflection stored in our waters.

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