I could be Loredana or Jerry or Osas or Blessing or Loveth or whatever my name would be, but the sound of freedom and its research wouldn’t change. It is not my name or my culture or the color of my skin to determine my destiny, it shouldn’t! There are no owners of life to decide according to your name or color what future you … Continua a leggere My Name Is Written in Tears
Memory from an echo in the past where I could not see other than your beautiful and courageous appeal to life. Memory of a silent dream of peace where nothing could disturb and offend your freedom. Memory of travel where nothing could be given as already done and said however you you could long for your destination forever. Memory of a love whose claims were … Continua a leggere Fields of Heather as Caresses to your Sorrow
I love writing. Yes, I do! Writing is my beginning and my end; it is my instrument to give life a sense and to put images in words and viceversa. Writing is my will and my testament, it is the rule I give myself and the route to my destination. Writing is the sun and the moon, the sky and the ocean where I lose … Continua a leggere My Freedom
I cannot understand these times, or probably I do understand them too well to accept the route they are undertaking, more, that we are starting. It seems to me a paradoxical condition the one where we, as the protagonists of a very ugly and cruel story, have become our own antagonists. The only resource we find to overcome our fears of a danger probably inexistent, … Continua a leggere On Blame of Violence
La foto di copertina è una delle foto scattate da Riccardo Magi sulla Sea Watch e pubblicata su Repubblica on-line No way to wash your hands, human being’s care depends on us, each one of us. There is no political party or culture or difference or fear to prevent human beings from saving other human beings in danger. Nothing! We cannot remain to observe … Continua a leggere Human Being’s Care
To change a heart we need courage. The courage to resist and the courage to choose. Resisting is a choice. It means to choose between life and death. As long as we could be afraid of death, we should also remember that a life without a choice is nothing but death itself. We live in a society where we consider the other as a possible … Continua a leggere The Courage to Change
I am in an age when it is more important to be a mother than to be a son. This does not mean that I have no more care for me and my needs, but that these are more inclined to the young than to me myself. My concern is no more what I’m going to build, but what is going to remain of my … Continua a leggere My Beloved Sons
Show your face, tell us who you really are. Tell us who you want to be and where you want to go. Explain the reasons of your living, play the music inside your heart, stop pretending to be whom you are not, show the truth. I fear more the masks than the ugly truth, I fear more to discover the real you when it is … Continua a leggere Show Your Face
Whatever I do is never enough. I can feel pain, share the sorrow, help as I can, fight the injustice, denounce the abuse, listen to the stories, put the stories in words, feel myself as I were living the same… yet, whatever I do is never enough. What can I do? The only resource I have is my speaking. What if none listens or those … Continua a leggere What Can I Do?
I was dreaming to sing my lullaby to one of those children in the deep depth of the Mediterranean, or to one of those waiting in Libia or elsewhere to be rescued in order they could see as true their father and mother’s dream to live a better life. I was dreaming to sing my lullaby to those children in Syria, Afghanistan, Palestine, to the … Continua a leggere Lullaby
