​This world has the right to Healing

Healing is always powerful. It awaits us, and it is there, one step beyond our fears. I composed this music, since I sense the urgency of Healing for the human people. There can be no stalling. The blood spilled for idiocy is far too much. We must move toward Sanity. Our sanity is in danger: monsters appear created by hands that know man's true nature and mislead it by all possible means. Not only do they want us to be unhappy, they want us to be psychotic. This is an intrapsychic battle, which is articulated within us, in our heads, and will sanction a new world, which, as yet, is not given to know. They want a world of slaves. Distressed, without noble soul aspirations, bent to the will of the powerful, without the ability to think and analyze. For this, we need Healing. The world needs healing. There are too many, and too great, wounds. They need to be healed, in a dialogical relationship with the other, endowed with interpretive intelligence. To direct us toward a world of goodness and justice. Love and understanding. Ability to listen and respect. Evil men exist and operate so that their domination is total. It is up to us to oppose them, inside our heads, preventing the evils from penetrating so deeply into us that we can no longer control them. Their purpose is to pollute our souls. Thus, without the ability to dream beautiful things anymore, we will all be doomed. This composition is dedicated to all those who chose voluntary exile. Who have not bowed to diktats. Who still have a dream of Beauty in their hearts. The piece begins with a fragment of diagrammatic music, with which I transformed the word "Phrasing" into sounds, because before Healing, there is the Phrasing of a human being's destructive urges, which can kill him if no action is taken. A fight follows. Healing comes into the human being's life and makes him see the golden exile of choosing not to harm himself anymore. From that position, the individual will see, on top of other mountains, the other people who have chosen to no longer allow anyone to harm their righteous feeling. From that historical moment, in People's lives, comes Victory, which, in the piece, I have represented with a section in G major. The individual begins to make decisions for his own health and Beauty. He does not give in to lies. He no longer lets evil in. It moves toward a new dimension: wholeness. There is the sweet consolation of knowing how much, at last, one's life has deep meaning. There is a chorus of human voices praising exile. To save the world, one must first save oneself. The only truly incredible goal to achieve is the possibility of having a crystal-clear flow of thought. There is a battle in the music, but there is also much consolation. In the end, we run the risk of being alone or with the few people we love, but there is nothing we can do about it. Many will fall into the spiral of a murderous system that intends to undermine the foundations of human life. Many will believe the lies. Many, in an aberrant state of unawareness, will side with the torturers. The world is at war. Healing is urgently needed. There is uproar, spreading catastrophically everywhere. There is hatred, leading to violence. There is, above all, a war that the powerful have launched against us, against our brains. Against the beautiful soul of man, who wants to fly like an eagle. This piece is an Ode to Healing. He who has seen, can no longer pretend. He who has understood, will never go back. Those who have heard, within themselves, the call to Beauty and Peace, can no longer believe true the claims of the powerful of the day, who exalt their wars. It is an intrapsychic war, yes, that which is being celebrated within our minds, between Good, which knows how to wait and Evil, which, with all its sinuous forms of capturing the attention of the bystanders, seeks to sow proselytes. We are at the most important crossroads of our lives: either to follow the evildoers, who have been guilty of all sorts of crimes, or to choose a peaceful Revolution that will lead us to an Epoch of Peace and well-being, for all those who will join. This composition has in it a Victory, in G major and a consolation. We are not the wrong ones. We were born in the age when Capital seeks its maximum extension, albeit dying. So we cannot fail. They speak of the "End of History." So, this, for them, is the ultimate and final arrangement of History. We cannot allow it. It is not the end of History, if we neutralize their poison and walk toward the Light. It will be the beginning of a new History, that of the final consecration of Man as a being who knows how to understand and love....

​As of April 10, 2024, I have been working on a new composition, entitled “Love and Origin - The Birth of Thought and Identity.” It is a work for symphony orchestra and Chorus, entrusted with words that tell the immortal story of the meeting of a man and a woman destined to love each other on a path leading to Infinity.

​We can all evolve based on a relationship of love and knowledge, in which the other is the dialogical You capable of reading and interpreting us.  
We can all learn to love.
We can all be creative.

We only need to want to be in order to embark on the path that leads to Beauty.

​Roytan
To the world
April 7, 2024

Marinella
The realization

The man moved swiftly inside his home, aware that he had composed the piece about his Companion, in an environment of absolute intellectual and psychic freedom. The artist had waited 16 years to immortalize in score the image he had within him of the Woman who had resignified him, and he was convinced he had succeeded. She, so beautiful... So sensitive and delicate, and, at the same time, strong, in her revolutionary spirit... The composer woke up on that Sunday day in early April, having finished the working stages of the piece. He had been glad to have said good morning to the eternal girl with whom he was totally in love. There was much tenderness between the two. The written piece was titled after the name of his Companion: "Marinella." Subtitle: "The Realization," since, it was with her, inside his lush psyche of Woman, in an eternal embrace, that the man had awakened from a years-long nightmare, which had manifested itself in terrifying storms, and moments of loss of his own righteous feeling. In the music, indeed, echoed the funereal hours of tidal waves destined to make men succumb, entrusted, in the musical description, to moments of atonal parts, designed to create lofty tensions, and then to flow into a cosmos made of Beauty and Freedom. There were moments of boundless sweetness, in the music. At the worst junctures of their lives, the two of them had stood together, waiting for a ray of sunshine to pierce the darkness. Theirs had been, from the beginning, the love story of two dissidents. They had never given up, always holding hands, aware of their strength, corroborated by an infinite love. They had gone through immense grief and tragedy, such as the loss of all four of their parents. They had seen a people in disarray, under the lashings of media and politicians whose only purpose was to subjugate the greatest number of individuals to enslave them and let them die in the ontic dimension of annihilation. His Companion had a sharp view on things, which he followed by reasoning about them, and always finding his theses always lucid. "This music," he thought, "represents a struggle between a Woman who wants to live well and a system that intends to subdue her. The composer had used a Chorus, to indicate new melodies within the music itself. The piece was beautiful, at least that is how its creator intended it. The music proceeded with sure step. There was tenderness. Love. Momentum, and a knowledge of the other that wanted to go beyond limits, to proceed toward the infinite... "I used strings a lot," the man thought, "and these instruments express all the sweetness in my heart. Many years of battles had passed: they had not been amputated by the violence of events, since they had managed to protect themselves. They had not allowed themselves to be tamed by a corrupt and evil system of thought. They had not become herds, but steppe wolves... Their virtue and strength had been reasoning. They had analyzed all the major dominant dynamics. They had come to the conclusion that the world was in bad shape. In severe decompensation. Adrift. It was therefore necessary to protect themselves from the broadsides of a psychotic society, which had lost the right feeling. "This music, "Marinella," is meant to represent the indomitable strength of a warrior who never gave up, and always made her arm reach out toward the light, even when it would have been easier to give up everything and become a slave," reflected the author, who was increasingly proud of his Companion and his acoustic representations of her, to whom, over time, he had dedicated mountains of sound. The world was not well. It was in psychotic collapse; atomic bombs were very easily talked about, as if they were a solution. The formerly wealthy West was living in darkness, and the author had wanted to paint with sounds these deadly storms that were bearing down on the helpless population, making them increasingly fearful and alienated. Humanity, on the other hand, needed light. Love. Slants. Vitality and Beauty. Her Companion had glimpsed the general decline of the Western world long before it manifested itself in all its destructive scope. Man recognized in her a natural vocation to utter prophetic words. Around her, among her acquaintances, no one believed her. They were destined to be dissenters with a cause. Rebels. Warriors. Love had united them. The vision of things had corroborated them, in their substance as righteous human beings. Theirs was a psychic union, in an overwhelming passion of two minds always seeking each other. The man saw a cyclamen petal falling from the plant. He thought it was beautiful. "I don't want to go back to the swells. I want to stay with her all my life." His Companion was a force of Nature. Her power had been to remain steadfast in her identity as a seeker, always, without being tempted by accommodating positions that would alter her nature and search for identity. The composer deemed it his duty to pay homage in sounds to his Muse, who had made the improbable possible. "In this Music there is Love. Touch. Kindness and struggle. Passion and emotional tension. Tenderness and that indomitable spirit that does not allow People to give up." The author was very satisfied with his own work. The atonal parts stood out from everything else, and the swells were crisp, in score. The man loved his Woman in an all-encompassing way. She was the genius, always ready to correctly analyze an action, a statement, an event. They had seen squalor spread to all places where interpretive intelligence had been banished. Ostracized. Verminated and offended, but his Companion had recognized the signs of the West's undoing years earlier. Together, the two were valiant. They lived an intimate victory. "Everything will go as it should," thought the composer, as he listened to the brass move in solemn chords. Their lives had indeed been full of meaning. Emblematic: from raging tides to the confident Identity of human beings no longer willing to give in to evil. They had seen People lose themselves. They had seen evil triumph in certain latitudes. They would never regret the goodness of their path, which had led them to be Creatures of Light, in a world in which darkness reigned, chaotically. "This Piece is for those who fight!" reflected the composer. They had fought so much, he and his Woman. A life of fighting. An existence aimed at Good. Years and centuries of liberation from everything that wants to make a life a nightmare. It had been a real battle, since evil is everywhere, ready to sow its discord in the hearts of those who, for just a moment, surrender. The man and his Companion had seen Evil in the face. They no longer believed his flattery, his mischief, passed off as truth, aimed only at the destruction of what is most beautiful in the world: intelligence and one's ability to heal the wounds of an injured soul. The man had been healed. His Companion, with maieutic art, had seen the man in the suffering child and had rescued them both. So the man knew he was a Creature of Light with a child within him who longed to play. The Woman, for her part, had immediately felt loved by her man, and together they had been able to live well. "This Music is for those who have crossed the desert!" the composer said under his breath. The man aspired to the realization of Humanity. It was a simple concept: all men and women glad to be themselves. Not destructive. Not belligerent. Only men and women endowed with the capacity to be creative and loving. The author had long pondered those concepts, supported by reading great masters of the past, and had come to the conclusion that there was a Possibility for all to be well and live in peace. He firmly believed that. The path to Beauty was there for any Person who wanted to take it. The path was splendid. There were no more lies, only Love. There was no more blackmail of the system, only infinite tenderness and momentum toward those who, like themselves, had begun to take their first steps toward Pulchritude. Man's Companion was of supreme intelligence, and this man intended to paint with his sounds through the music he had composed. There was no room for the now psychotic and rotten system. No one to tell lies to. No one to entice. No one to be fooled, with the usual games of the media, which were an important part of the downfall of Western countries. "Only those who have faced the test of fire can conceive of the scope of this Music," caught himself pondering the author, who was increasingly aware of the revolutionary scope of his own work, to which he had always devoted his best energies, in a seamless crescendo. The man was in his own little study penning words of rebellion, certain that sooner or later someone would read them and find them good. "This composition," the man reflected, "is for those who search, for those who have not been satisfied with the glossy surface of the promises of a West that can no longer afford the luxury of being considered the ethical compass of the entire world, having its bloody hands in all the worst conflicts on the planet. His Companion was there with him. She was smiling at him with that dreamy childlike air of hers. The man had been very lucky, really, he realized this every morning when he woke up and gave thanks for everything he had. "The brass plays a primary function," thought the man. His composition, "Marinella," was, arguably, one of the most complex pieces of his entire output. He had written it in four days of intense compositional activity. He had finished it the day before by adding the dynamics and mixing the overall volumes of the tracks. This composition was for 40 real instruments, formally very complex. The composer had treated it with utmost care, devoting feverish hours of composition and chiseling to it. He was in the re-listening stage and everything sounded good to him. "There will come a New Age of Light," the man thought, "in which People will be able to be happy, at peace, devoted to their creative activities, loving themselves, in total freedom, for what they will be, Creatures of Light, a dimension that will allow them to no longer give in to any deception, which will be banished from human society, capable of welcoming the different in their own reach as harbingers of wealth, which will be held in the highest esteem by all members of Mankind, who will no longer have to be afraid, fearing the disproportionate reactions of the powerful, who will be placed in the condition of no longer harming anyone, in a disarming continuity of Beauty, Justice and Peace." This was what the man thought. This sustained him in the hour of trials. He went to his Companion. He kissed her on the neck; she smiled at him with that joyful childlike air of hers. It had taken them 50 years to learn to become children again, with the personality structure of a healthy man and woman. Now they knew. Now they could no longer be deceived. Now it was time to live. To embrace those who were like them, along the path that leads to Beauty. Sharing. Celebrating with those who had survived the lie machine of a system dedicated to the extermination of other thinking. The man was glad. He knew that he would live with his own Muse, in harmony.... 

Roytan
To the world
March 18, 2024

My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible

The second origin

​I have concluded the labor limae of "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible," after 4 years of not entirely uniform correction and chiseling over time. The piece was resumed several times, and, on several occasions, when I felt I could add meaning to the notes, I explored new horizons. The composition is now in its final form. It bears a message of unconditional love toward the Person who resignified me and is intended to be universal: when love is reciprocal, it is self-giving, it is mutual action of understanding and interpretation, then it is the greatest gift that can be experienced in this human life of ours. The loving breast I came to know through the dedication of my Companion represented absolutely the wonder, the wonder, the ultimate and highest manifestation of the hope of having a truly worthy existence. I discovered many years ago that I was an invisible: my Woman's poignant outburst toward me, her ability to heal my wounds, the self-sacrifice with which she interpreted my desires led me to Freedom, which is the child of Truth. This is the portrait of an invisible person who became a Person, through the loving care of a graceful Nymphet with superior intelligence. "My Lady's Breast - Portrait of an Invisible" is constant in its intensity. It creates an inseparable unum, proudly displaying its tension toward the Infinite. Compelling, in the succession of the various Themes. Majestic as the melody of a man who now knows how right it is to be in the world to walk his own path. Clearly, the "breast," here, has psychoanalytic symbolic value and represents that house of the soul in which an individual is transformed into a Person, deciding never to turn back, to usher in, finally, an existence devoted to Beauty. The world could decide to follow Pulchritude even today. Nothing is precluded to it, but it needs to awaken, to awaken from hibernation, to determine which path is the right one to follow, in which mode and with which intensity. I used to say that "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" has a constant value of intensity, thanks to which all the instruments sing their own melody, in accord with the others, generating a vital fabric. This achievement I firmly claim. I have reached a point thanks to which I can express my musical idea with constant intensity. The Incipit of this composition is based on 4 chords of the strings, which were written 4 years ago in the midst of lockdown, and which, to this day, really move me a great deal, because I remember how lonely I felt and intended to raise my song to the only Person who, in my love life, had never let me down: my Companion. "My Lady's Breast - Portrait of an Invisible" is the story in music of a loneliness that opens up to the world and discovers a love for men and women, the elderly and children, that envelops her with a disarming warmth, in a dimension of Beauty, that makes her believe that the healing of all is possible, in a new origin, that sanctions the growth of the Human Gender into a group of People no longer destructive. It is the intensity of this music that envelops me. To know that, behind the planes and the louds, there is a definite intention to make one's life a work of art. "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" is heat of unquenchable flame. It is momentum. It is tenderness. It will not count the individuals who make it, it will count the moment when everyone awakens from hibernation and begins to march toward the Light, embraced, happy and serene, in a great celebration, which will begin when everyone is fed up with the evil that men do to other men. What dictates the goodness of this composition is the constancy of intensity, from the first to the last note, which is followed by a pathos-laden silence. The charge of pathos and feeling remains high and constant throughout the duration of the piece. "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" is a poignant love song to Humanity, which the Person knows through the impulse toward his Muse, who elevates him, transforming him into creatures of Light. He who loves his Muse, knows love toward all Mankind and works, every day, for it. Many years have passed since my second origination, in 2008, as a Person of a Muse of cosmic beauty. I have written. Composed. I have seen myself within. I have gained clarity and now I can say that I am a Person who has known the dimension of invisibility, for so long and can now sing my own Freedom as a human being free of negative thoughts. Today, at the age of 50, I am a man. I have climbed some mountains. I have seen the deception of the mountain of ego, which leads nowhere. I have met with my dialogical You, who, with maieutic art, has brought Man to light from the suffering child, giving him the strength he needs to move forward, to move within the tribe of humans, to be able to speak his own word. Mine was, "Love." "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" wants to be a vector. To transmit light and lead from one point in space to that dimension of Self Individuation and the active alpha function, as Jung and Bion teach. I am really happy with the end result of the labor limae of this composition, since I feel I have done a good job, with all the strength and determination to want to leave behind me a good seed, pointing, in Spring, the direction toward light, colors, in magnificent new flowers. May life shine again, as lush as a magnolia... I leave this writing of mine to the great father of waters, that he may carry it far away, to a world of Beauty, justice and truth. A healthy world. Fair. Possible...

Hello, Marineros! Today I am writing my thoughts relative to the concluding part of my journey to date. When we were all in lockdown, I started writing music, improvising it on the keyboard, to which I gave the title "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible." That day, I was looking for sounds, having in mind a Chopin succession. I thought of the initial chord of the succession, a Neapolitan sixth, and tried the same chord myself, with the addition of a dissonant sound. I liked what I heard. I ran to write in a new score that chordal agglomeration. I had before me the incipit of a new piece. I worked hard on it. I led it to a state of formal perfection. I let it settle, and then took it up again and again, handling and correcting it, modifying and chiseling it. I then decided that I would send it to an International Composition Competition, in Japan. It is by far the piece that I have worked on the most, in the span of two years. It is the story, in music, of a Person, a different one, who finds and discovers his own identity through the love that resignifies everything. That all heals. That everything magnifies. It is the discovery of a good breast that welcomes, loves, nourishes and reveals. Today, just thinking about how heartbroken I was during the period of Covid restrictions, I feel sad. We were all alone. All abandoned. All hopelessly in a state of quiet desperation, just as the system wanted us to be. I, for example, being in a small town separate from that of my Companion, could not see her for 2 months and it was so hard, although I relied on a routine that allowed me to remain in a dimension of relative well-being. Over time I honed the tools to analyze and better "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible," to the point of creating a melodic trumpet line that generated a new song within the score. I am happy, since I created the conditions to express myself in what was the beginning of the darkest phase of this end of the third Millennium. It is as if something told me, "Express yourself so as not to perish. "Study." "Process." The trap of depression then was as dangerous and devious as ever. There were so many reasons to veer into a pessimistic state without a scintillating vision of the future. I, with disdain, refused to fall into the traps of the system, which, with malice aforethought, had decided to lead People to despair so that it could better control them. "My Lady's Breast - Portrait of an Invisible" is a hymn to life. A sublime and nostalgic elegy, strong in its message, certain in its form, powerful in its affirmation of a love that cannot be corrupted by the decisions of rulers who crave the subjugation of Humanity and the killing of diversity, so as to have an amorphous mass of myopic and prone obedient people. "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" is a love song, that psychic dimension that allows man to be reborn again and again, in a progression toward Beauty which is, in itself, authenticity and light. People can evolve. People can transform themselves. People know that they have the opportunity to become better, and this pointed me in the direction during the writing of "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible," certain that, one day, someone would find themselves in those notes, listening and re-listening to this piece, the sounds of which were penned in the momentum that a lover has toward his Muse. "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" intends to convey the message that in life nothing is really ever lost. One can always try new paths and, suddenly, love will come, the real kind, capable of giving itself without asking for anything in return. This composition revolves around the concept of Possibility, which a Person should never lack. They wanted to take everything away from us: they awakened us. They yearned to kill diversity: now the diverse are more aware than before, being proud of their peculiarities. They reset our constitutional rights: they made us a prouder people. Many still sleep in the lethargy of the system's maladies. It is to them that my thoughts go. Many still believe in TV. Some are irretrievably gone, lost forever, as bishops of the system that suckles them with its poison. Love, in composition, is the prime mover of a Person's existence. I do not know what I would have done if I had not met my Companion. "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" intends to convey a message of goodness, after so many years of struggle, internal and external, to heal oneself and the world, so in severe disarray, adrift. It is a portrait of an invisible becoming the Person of a Woman who is able to love and care for her. It is natural that this process can affect everyone. The system wants us distressed and empty. Puppets, mostly. We cannot accept this state of affairs, and by rebelling, we can become Light. Love. Peace. We can indeed build a better world. We must do it; it is our task. Let us not give in to sadness, which is the gateway to depression. 

"Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind" is a continuation of "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible," since, in the second composition man asks his Love to heal him from the evil of the world. Love is the greatest healer: with righteous acts and fair words endowed with sound interpretive skills it leads the other to his fullest realization. "Heal me," therefore. Healthy and read intelligently. Choose carefully the words you speak. The world is in darkness. New and old projections of evil are appearing on the scene of the Third Millennium. There is a mind that commands everything. It is the result of the intelligences bent on evil that rule the Planet. They are very dangerous men. They live in a deep psychosis, dark as lead. They know how to kill. They know how to send young people to the front. They know how to starve peoples. To this prospect my composition vigorously opposes. "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind," heal me from the negative and destructive influences, which Love knows how to drive away permanently. The individual is equipped with all the tools to resist, if he or she meets Love. The Person can do great things, for himself and the other he intercepts along his way. I am convinced of this. "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind" is intimate. At times, it is almost whispered. It is in the dimension of the small, childlike life that remains within us that we utter our most heartfelt words of love. This composition was finished when I was experiencing a tense moment related to my mother's state of health, for which I was striving to produce healing vibrations toward the world and my family unit. "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind" wishes to convey an invitation not to give up so that, one day not too far away, we can all be well, in respect and justice. I will never resign myself to the victory, on all fronts, of evil. Those people should be placed in the position of never harming anyone again. Indeed, in this second composition, there is the unshakable hope that individuals can respond appropriately, having resisted, with the strength of their own identity, all attacks from outside. Healing is the categorical imperative of existence. There is no nobler mission. There is nothing else to do. Love and work, after identifying oneself. Taking care of one's Love, after discovering oneself in the embrace with the other who becomes mirror, Muse, confidant and invitation to do well and give oneself in totality. The world is in severe imbalance, we have said. It is adrift and no one seems to be able to save it, but we can love one another to turn this whole system of things around. No Person is ever healed alone: the dialogic You is needed, capable of correctly interpreting the instances and experience, restoring to the individual the exact image of all their Selves. 

"Libertas, filia veritatis," "Freedom, daughter of truth." "Libertas, filia veritatis" is the last, in chronological terms, the third in the succession. I started from the phrase "Veritas, filia temporis," "Truth is the daughter of time," and thought that Truth generates the Freedom to be oneself, without more deception. I have been reflecting a lot these days since my birthday, which is now 50. I have thought that we all have the right to be well, in truth, facing the trials to become free human beings. The freedom to be a man without more hypocrisy and subterfuge is linked to Truth. It is Truth that makes People capable of choosing. We can. We must love each other. We must not let evil, which dwells in the hearts of abject and aberrant beings, win. Truth, to know. Truth, to distinguish. Truth, to love that which comes to us to ennoble us. Freedom is always freedom to love. To edify. Choose. They do not want us free and we will be free. They crave our submission and we will stand erect before their lies, in peace. They plot our destruction and we will build and rebuild as often as necessary. Freedom is always the child of Truth, which springs from the bowels of time. There can be no Freedom, in the fiction of hypocrisy. I have always wondered what Humanity needed in order to be happy, and I answered myself how much a dialogical mirror is needed that is able to return a perfect and accomplished image of anyone's identity. I do not fear only those who intend harm. I regret the sleepers, those who, especially during the Covid pandemic, submitted to the will of powerful people who undermined, through the media, the serenity of all. Freedom is the daughter of Truth, absolutely. It is the daughter of those who no longer tell lies to each other. Of those who do not operate evil. Of those who have decided to accept and transform everything into a healthy and just world. Fair. Wonderful. "Libertas, filia veritatis" is also this. It is the path that leads a Person to the revelation of his or her healthy Self. Free. True. It is the path we should all explore, without fear, since it represents the best way to live, in harmony with others. Freedom is the child of Truth, always and everywhere. One cannot be free in operating evil. That is not what Freedom is. Truth is liberating. After the revelation, people's gaze is clear, the vision clear, the step certain, toward a New Age of Light. I do not give up. I want to see a new and just world. I want to be able to rejoice with those I love. With those who have chosen me. With those who care for me and to whom I give my whole self always. This music is an invitation. It is a dance. It is a call to all who intend to enter the New Age of Light to acclaim their status as People who love and respect.

​Freedom is the child of Truth.
He who does not intend to tell himself the Truth, will never be free.
He, on the other hand, who always seeks to tell himself the Truth, will rejoice in Freedom.
I have faith in Mankind.
I know that it can do great things.
I know that it can free itself from evil.
I know that there will be a New Age of Light.

​Massimiliano
To the world
March 4, 2024




Libertas, filia veritatis
In the little


Jesus said, "The truth will make you free." Freedom is the child of truth. Truth is the child of time. One cannot conceal a mountain. Lies cannot be told forever. This composition for symphony orchestra, voices and electronic instruments was born out of the reflection that in an insane world, because of which a dystopian and aberrant version of events is told, those who dare to seek the truth are true heroes. Our freedom can only be the child of truth. It is necessary to know how to tell the truth. Truth about our family unit. Truth about the people we have known. Truth about the power system that poisons, every day, the wells, exterminating diversity, with the premeditated murder of other thinking. I have meditated a lot, in these days of dense composition, and have come to an interesting observation, thanks to which I feel serene. Men seek the surrogates of truth they most love. They settle for little daily recipes to get by. They bask in reassuring prothoughts, which have nothing to do with Truth and Freedom. Mental schism reigns supreme in this society. Few overcome it by entering the great dimension of Truth. Hypocrites rule the roost. The disoriented are indeed many. Those who have kept the rudder straight in recent years are truly prodigies. Truth comes from the pure telling of facts. The more they are told in a neutral way, the more uplifting the analysis of them is. Many years ago, I stopped proposing lies to myself, which motivated people's behaviors. I stopped justifying. Everything, then, appeared to me in its nakedness. The gestures. The actions. The words. The proposed problem-solving strategies. I, too, was naked before the Truth, and although at first I felt uncomfortable, later I was no longer ashamed of the fact that I had stripped myself of all superstructures, being able to approach the Truth with a sure stride, open eyes, and a smile of one who understood that that stage of his journey would not be painful but liberating. I was lucky because I met a person who, like me, had been on the trail of Truth for a long time. Together we became a family. Truth is often covered up. Deposited. Subjected to the mechanism of increasingly venomous progressive lies. But time will restore it in its splendor, thunderbolt and brilliance. For this there is a need for the moments to add up to the instants. Time and facts are stubborn: sooner or later they release their potential, doing justice to those who have been able to see beyond, resisting the attacks of a secular system. Time will restore Truth to its role in the History of human affairs. Those who follow the Truth will become free and will no longer be blackmailed by anyone. These are the conclusions I share today on the basis of my experiences in writing this new composition, "Libertas, filia veritatis." I come out of a long period of trials, which never wavered in my step, and I can tell everyone that life, in the Freedom daughter of Truth is indeed beautiful. One gets excited about a Narcissus blooming in the garden. Freedom is the daughter of Truth, flowing sinuous and blazing from the flow of Time. Even as a child I wondered about many things. Growing up I contacted the world. Lies, subterfuge, manipulation, lust for power over others, all under the banner of splitting. Instead, another world is possible. Another way exists. A new look at things is as necessary as ever. There are people whose lonely cry echoes in the darkest night, in an illune firmament. Those who know that they are not without hope. Often, in grief, we feel alone, abandoned, but we are not. Instead, we are surrounded by the affection of those who love us, always, and this should be our unquenchable torch in the darkness. The world is falling apart, faster and faster. For those for whom it has been long and arduous to expose the sadistic project of power, now, precisely because they have sweated to discover the Truth, the world is beautiful, and now these People are in a position to no longer genuflect before anyone. I am glad. I discerned the criminal plan and got out of it. I no longer believe a single word spoken by a politician. I no longer need lies to live. I have colored the arid true, adding sounds to my Symphony. This composition has a C-sharp major part, which flows simply. It has a rock coda and a D-sharp minor facility. The chorus utters words about Truth and Freedom, which are perceived by the system as two great enemies, to be concealed in every forum. Wars continue to be waged. There is always killing with great ease. Children are the ones who will be forever scarred by it, and the aftermath of the impact of war will never leave their minds. One day, however, the great human tribe will all dance around a great fire. They will sing joyfully. Grandparents will tell stories of victory over the monster that had gripped the lives of men to control and dominate them, in a spiral of violence that, in the minds of the creators of that design, was to be unbroken. It will be a great day. Glorious. Majestic. The artists will create new works. I will be there with them, since, in my thoughts, that day is already here. I have been dreaming of a Revolution of Consciousness for as long as I can remember, and I am confident that it will come, with everyone's effort. We have to rebel. This system is corrupt and does not love us. It craves our unconditional surrender. The Piece is really powerful; it returned great vibrations to me. "Libertas, filia veritatis" is a title I arrived at by analyzing many dynamics of modern life. With time and the Truth instilling in me remnants of reality, I began, in progression, to place thoughts in the music. Feelings, emotions, what my revolutionary heart beat for. My Art is militant, fighting for the good of Humanity to come. I do not feel alone. I know how there is a multitude of People who have not bowed before the progress of Neoliberalism that kills everything. This composition revolves around the concept of Truth being the daughter of Time, which, with the passing of days becomes the mother of Freedom, which leads to Victory. The musical piece is dense. I built walls of sound, vertical structures in which many different instruments play together, to embody the step of Freedom, which awaits us all confidently. This piece was written after some recent events in my life that made me reflect even more on the Beauty of Existence and how we are responsible for the image we carry of people who are gone. We need to remember and move along the trajectory mapped out by our loved ones who are no longer here. I come from a family that has always struggled. I will certainly not be the one to stop. I will honor the struggle made by my parents for the good of all. There is an indomitable spirit in this composition. I will certainly not be the one to stop. I will honor the struggle made by my parents for the good of all. There is an indomitable spirit of battle in this composition, seeking Peace and Beauty. There is sweetness. There is the human voice leading the people toward the Victory of their own identity of being sublime. The style is majestic. The pressing rhythms. I worked hard on this composition for days. I am proud of the result. I would not change a comma. The modulation in C-sharp major is truly joyful. Man breaks free from the superstructures of an unfair, unjust, unhealthy and sadistic system of imposing rules. There are rebated notes in this section in major, in the percussion family. The successive walls of sound are meant to be a Victory of man over barbarism and decadence. We cannot live with war; it must disappear from the landscape of man's activities. Those who foment it must be placed in the condition of no longer harming anyone, other than the Premier of the States. The C-sharp major section is in ternary rhythm, which gives fluidity and a sense of dance. There is extensive use of brass, since I see no other way to proclaim a Victory than to announce it with trumpet blasts, horns, tubas and trombones. Freedom will save us all, if we save ourselves in Freedom. It's up to us. It depends on how we act. By the words we say, how much more or less violent they are. By the deeds we perform in the love of the one who chose us. This composition, "Libertas, filia veritatis" fits into the overall framework of the world's current situation, which is dissociation, prevarication and psychosis, so violent and deep, the result of persecutory minds, to make many people believe impossible a way out. Those who generated this condition of the world will have to answer for it before the great tribunal of Time. The piece opens with strings and immediately seems to be hovering in the air a threat, driven away by intervention from angelic voices praising wisdom. On the piano the modulation in C-sharp major. The percussion presses in. There is a texture of strings. "We will find a way," Pearl Jam said in an old song, and I don't see how I can blame them. We will find a way. This new Nazism needs, as a response, the insurrection of all those who do not accept the status quo. We will find a way. We are a family. Those who do not want to do good cannot be accepted. Children will return to play in the streets. To the elderly the role of teachers of life. No one will be harmed again. Diversity will be treated properly and the world will once again be the splendor it has always been without the intervention of the wicked. I write these words with the hope that they may mirror those who are on a quest. To those who have not settled for the smooth surface of things. To all those who cannot base their lives on deception. I am hopeful. From many quarters there are reports of spontaneous uprisings against Tyranny. Many have already awakened, waiting for others to emerge from the criminal misdeed conceived by perverse minds. Help will be needed. Some, once they emerge from the deep sleep of consciousness, will need to be led to Truth and Freedom by wise hands. My thoughts are addressed to them as well. I am glad today. This composition sounds beautiful to me. I have been listening to it again for two hours now and it does not tire me, it seems free and true, in the spirit of the Existential Quest that leads to Identity. With this music I want to convey the desire for a worthy existence, which we all have. To have it, however, one must struggle, in us and outside us, against an executioner system that does not want us to be happy. Instead, our children deserve the joy of the human tribe. The happiness of healthy encounters with others. The certainty that no one can operate evil anymore. We live in a tragic age in many ways. It is up to us to direct it toward Beauty and Peace, moving toward the full realization of our healthy Selves. It is a mission that awaits us every day when we wake up. It is something sacred. It is an invitation we must always make to each other. I am convinced that those who, like me, have never resigned themselves to the squalor of violent relationships, live these dramatic hours with a desire for a just life. Healthy. Constructive, with respect for the other, who is always an asset in our days. I hope I have done a good job. One day, we will all hear music so beautiful that it will move us. It will be the La to a New Era of Light, in which, whoever wishes, can participate, in Truth, Freedom and certain of his own value as a human being...

​Modern man experiences two tensions in antithesis, under the banner of the act of war, which is capable of leading him down the path of self-destruction. The first drive is centripetal, inward and is represented by the set of conflicts with one's self, which is other than the ego, and wants to lead the human being toward the full realization of the Person, too often opposed by narcissistic egocentrism. The second tendency, also a symbol of war, is outward, a centrifugal force, against the surrounding world, which, again and again, undermines the individual's ability to be himself. Trapped within these two tensions, the individual does not live. His task will be to dissolve these two drives into acts of love toward himself and others, becoming a creature of light. I have been living an all-encompassing love relationship with a wonderful Woman for 15 years, and I am able to say that love heals. It heals. It interprets and reframes and I believe that there is, for a Person, no better destiny. Days ago, I delivered to the great father of waters a Symphonic Poem, "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind." It is a composition in 4 Movements, which has absorbed me for 5 months and into which the experiences of a summer under the banner of Beauty have flowed. It is music in which I believe. It communicates to me great healing vibrations, for a world that is in severe decompensation and not as of today. Violence reigns undisturbed. Selfishness reigns supreme. Perversion is there for all to see. This capitalist system has come to an end. Its chimeras have been chanting the same litany forever. Its maladies ravish men who want to believe in the personal myth of success at the expense of a suffering multitude. There is a need for new Art, which is the La for a New Age of Light. There is an urgent need for a virgin consciousness of men and women, conveying a revolutionary message, that of the fusion of Ego and Self, of Individuation, of harmony between the parts and consonance between subject and object. There is a world, which is in shambles, to be refounded. Man must overcome his own conflicts, which are so cleverly nurtured by the system that wants us to be slaves to the basest drives.

​The contradictory drives that the system nurses are dissociative and deadly. This world is ruled by a handful of individuals dedicated to destruction. To listen to them is to die. To choose slavery and, slowly, to surrender to a fate that sees us as losers. "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind" is my response to all this chaotic disaster. This Symphonic Poem is dedicated to all men of science, who have always pierced the veil of darkness to radiate light. In particular, I have turned my thoughts to Dr. De Donno, a martyr, who was killed by dominant thinking. In the very first draft of this composition, in the metronomic indication, the word "Individuation" appears. I worked a lot around this concept. The Ego approaches the Self, the two sets merge, the Person is individuated and saved. "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind" is a revolutionary act against the nefariousness of the world. Humanity deserves to sing its most suave melody; no one can stop us. In the Symphonic Poem, 2 sound realities coexist: themes of war, struggle and themes of love, ecstatic and totalizing fusion with the other, which becomes the center of thoughts and feelings. Art must be revolutionary, otherwise it is not art. I have been along my path, for 15 years, since my Companion decided to be by my side and chose me. "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind" is an act of love toward Mankind. Warmth. Affection. It is for all those still fighting the distortions of a system bent on genocide, for that is what it is: they are exterminating our thinking, impoverishing our language, our ability to create thoughts that represent us, our ability to make art. Our acts of generosity. The gentleness with which we reach out to a child playing cheerfully. This world needs to be reformed. Reformed. Reformed. I have done a lot of reflecting over the past 15 years. I have taken the time to listen to my own thoughts. This Symphonic Poem, "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind," represents the climax of my artistic production. I have refined my musical search. My thoughts always take their place in the score. The harmonic exploration is bold. The rhythms follow one another with fluidity. In "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind," there is orchestra, choir and electronic instruments. It is the largest ensemble I have ever composed for. Maybe one day this music will reach a heart that will feel it's own. Until that day, I will continue to compose. I am satisfied with the choices made. This composition fully represents me. These sounds are all my own. I have always had the need to express myself, ever since I was a child. Now those my sound frescoes. I paint harmonic canvases. I compose my rhythmic mosaics. I do not know when this system will collapse. The end is near. Then it will be necessary for people of good will to work together for the genesis of a New Age of Light, yet to come, which will represent the final consecration of the Psyche of man and its legitimate demands.

​In the Symphonic Poem "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind," the struggle exists and spreads from every stave. It is a struggle for life, healing vibrations are spreading, the goal of freedom is closer. In the New Age of Light there will be a need for new art, capable of flowing from the innermost depths of the Person to branch out in all directions as a song of love. The road is still long. It is necessary to walk it with one's own feet, in the company of those who love us. I am grateful to life for the fellow travelers it has placed beside me. There will be no triumph of Psyche in the capitalist world. There will be no collective joy of a marvelous tribe whose ingenuity raises its song to the firmament. This is a system of man against man, not of Person embracing another Person. This is not a world of love; violence and overpowering triumphs everywhere. Every single aspect of community life must be rethought. As long as there is a man who takes over the lives of others, there will be no peace. Psyche has its own alphabet and syntax. He who destroys it is the enemy of the people. "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind" wants to convey love, that tension toward the infinite that matures in the hearts of People after they struggle for their own individuation, separating themselves from evil and moving their steps toward Beauty. There will be no redemption from human suffering in the system that produced and nurtured it. This capitalist system is alienating. This Symphonic Poem intends to be a rupture. What was, is gone, gone, and, if we want it, will never return. What is, depends on us, our choices and our acts of love. What will be depends on the totality of the choices of the tribe members. Man cannot suffer eternally. That condition is not for him. Humanity deserves joy. Children must play carefree. A young woman has the right to love her fiancé. An old man must be able to enjoy soup in the company of good music. These are the thoughts I had while writing "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind." There will be revolutionary new music. New frescoes. New paintings. Humanity will hail the Beauty that is inherent in its gestures, in the hearts, in the minds of those who have tried, without tiring, to conceive a world without more violence. I believe this. I must believe it to live a worthy existence. "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind" is an act of denunciation: the Psyche is humiliated and killed every day by malevolent forces all working for the same goal, that of enslaving Mankind. Someday someone will read these lines, I know. One day, all this overflowing vulgarity will end. An elderly person's gesture of affection toward his grandchild will be rediscovered. There will be singing. It will be played in the streets. The great monster will be placed in the condition of no longer harming anyone. To the lords masters of the world, it will be explained that their time is over and the world, by magic, will become wonderful again.

​We deserve joy. We deserve to be well. To individuate and fulfill ourselves. No more evil. "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind" is a hymn to Goodness. To Beauty. To the Love that resignifies and interprets everything. To that Humanity which, though in difficulty, has never tired of dreaming of a better tomorrow. Today is the day. Today. Today we can be well, beyond the pitfalls of an executioner system. Our present matters. I identified myself through the Love of my Companion, who healed me. With infinite grace, she healed my wounds. With joy, she has always kept me close to her, in a world of charisma and touch, devotion and kisses. I know that the path leading to Individuation may seem hard at first, but, with each step, the joy of being further and further away from evil and closer to one's true Identity as a Person increases. The individual is not programmed to do things on his own. He does not reveal himself to himself except through the mirror of clear water in which Otherness invites him to have his image reflected. One grows in relationship. One is consecrated in relationship with another endowed with interpretive intelligence and analytical capacity, who will read our inner poem aloud to us, feeling it as the greatest work of art ever conceived. It is the triumph of Love. Love is sanity. Research. Authentication. "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind" wants to convey Beauty, and it does so also thanks to the Struggle Themes, which in the Symphonic Poem return in various guises and radiate a mighty light that wants to reach the listener's innermost part to contribute to the gestation of a new Person. We have been living through a dark period of History for several epochs, and there is never a limit to the disgust. It is necessary to rebel. I am there. The New Age of Light will have its own new art form, capable of conveying concepts and emotions, thoughts and feelings. We must not be fooled: this is by no means the best of all possible worlds. This is a toilet, other than a world... We fight with intellect. With Reason. With thought. One day, perhaps not too far away, courtly trumpets will announce the New Age of Light. People will be determined not to want to harm each other. The world will again be a hospitable place. Children will not have to fear. I remain hopeful. Always. I have the need to hope. They cannot win. It is not fair. "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind" opposes, with rigor and determination, the injustices of a handful of criminals who rule the world, killing the Psyche of People. One day, all this will be only a painful memory because People will have learned to love each other and there will be no more murderous power. One day, evil will be extinguished. One day, there will be the joy of the tribe of men hailing themselves as the most beautiful form of community that has lived on Planet Earth and they will be right...

​The world will again be a hospitable and peaceful place in which People can cooperate in gladness to help each other.
There will be no lust for possession.
No one will try to impose himself.
Everything will be on a human scale.

​Utopia is necessary when times are dark.
You don't live on lunches and travel alone.
The world needs your Individuation, our search for healthy Identity.
I will be there.
You?

​We cannot leave everything in the hands of filthy individuals who want us to be slaves to a murderous system of things.
No, we can't.
Instead, we can start building a healthy world made up of People who are committed to creating instead of destroying.
We can be happy as of now.
We can.
I know it.

​We do not allow pessimism to ravage us.
We do not allow the media to affect our mood.
Let us not listen to defeatists, who work for the system.
Let us not lose heart.

To the world

From a new world

December 7, 2023

Healing vibrations

​The world deserves a chance

This composition is imbued with hope. "Heal me from the darkness of the world's mind" is an act of love. Healing is urgently needed, for everyone. We all have pathological parts, which can kill our legitimate aspiration to become creatures of light. This music is dedicated to the men of science, who have always torn the veil of darkness, to lead Humanity toward splendor. I also thought of my mother, who is a fighter. The first Movement gives the title to the whole Symphonic Poem, which is in 4 Tempos. Healing vibrations, this I sought in myself. We are all on a journey, each along our own path. All with a hope of individuation of our most authentic Self, that which, like the innermost layer of an onion, hides beneath all our attempts to become a Person. The merging of the ego with the Self is a manifestation of sanity. The two wholes come together. The prerogatives of the ego are finally heard, and the Self leads us to our true nature as human beings capable of working and loving. There are two forces, in an individual's existence: a centripetal force, inward toward the self, and a centrifugal force, outward, and both represent instances of struggle. We are born with a genetic heritage, which makes up about 50 percent of our neural networks; the other 50 percent will be determined by experiences, thoughts and actions. We receive care, because alone, as infants, we could not survive. There are egocentric parts in us, which, with growth, we should be able to smooth out, in order to learn to live with others in harmony. We also have destructive drives, real disagreement with one's world, overcoming which, man begins to live well, striving for that union between self and self that will make him happy, making him discover that he is able to love in a totalizing way and work, exploring his own passions and experiencing the hidden gifts he has always had. In addition there is, growing up, the centrifugal pull, toward a mommy-world that, all too often, turns out to be sadistic, destructive, that was attacks from which it is necessary to learn to defend oneself. In time, not immediately, the individual learns to separate himself from the ugliness of the world, and so the Person begins to be happy, searching, well and on axis, along a path that leads him to the full realization of his good Selves. Then the Person will discover the joy of being part of a magnificent tribe, the tribe of men. The Western world has been living in severe decompensation for too long and will only heal when it heals individuals, too often deceived, manipulated by a global force that lusts for the control of existences and the enslavement of Mankind.