​Over the past three years, people have been subjected to the greatest brainwashing in history. None of us could have guessed the extent of the events that were looming at the beginning of 2019. We were all unaware, and each of us tried not to end up in the jaws of the darkest tragedy. There have always been problems, I remember trying to analyze them several times, but what was looming then was a situation of unheard-of gravity. They announced the arrival of a potentially lethal virus, for the whole world, after declaring that it would not affect the whole world. Shops closed. Restaurants. Bar. We were incredulous wondering how it was possible. The world was no longer a safe place, although, in a nutshell, it never was. The TV drummed on our minds with information about COVID, the deadly new disease. We were all disoriented. State measures disrupted families. I was forced not to see my fiancée for months. It was all senseless. The only thing that kept me balanced was what was repeated to us until exhaustion and that was that everything would be resolved and we would soon return to hug our closest family members. It didn't go like this: that was the description of the new normal, the post-COVID one would certainly be different from the one we were used to and in doing so they made us slide into an abyss, with no longer the possibility of going back. We resisted. Then the vaccines arrived, acclaimed, with great pomp, as the saviors of the homeland are acclaimed. And that too was a big deception, the central one of the narrative. We are living in the era of global lies, in the era of the coincidence of opposites, in the era of schizophrenia of states, which have now passed from COVID to war, their old and everlasting passion. A handful of evil minds run the world. Nothing good is to be expected from these gentlemen. We can only bring our smiles to the square. Our flags. Our human warmth, which Lord Lords no longer know. In the last three years, people have been put to the test, from all points of view, however there is one very little addressed by Television: the psychological one. It wasn't easy losing your job. Talk to your family about health care choices. Losing, perhaps, one's partner, for economic reasons or as a couple. All this killed Psyche. It's not true that we came out better. We came away with broken bones, in a seamless spiral of traumas that have been grafted onto each other. It's not true that everything would have gone well. It all went wrong. It seems that smiling is almost forbidden. I had her, who means everything again and I really don't know how I would have done without her love. Everything didn't go well, as the drawings hanging on the balconies described and we are no better. An insane hatred has taken possession of many, who were already used to giving birth to ideas of death and destruction. There has been no growth. Evolution, just a wild idea of adaptation to an eternal present of deprivation and mourning. We haven't all been better, on the contrary, many have brought out the worst, feeding on poison and becoming poison themselves. Theirs was a perfect project aimed at leading Humanity to despair, in order to better dominate it and they are succeeding. Healthy forces seem lost. They are hiding in some safe place to resist the attacks of this new world order. Those who have realized the strategy do not let it penetrate their lives. There are those who manage to love each other, despite everything and these are the most revolutionary. They abandoned us, after causing us the trauma. Like the torturers do, who first torture you and then leave you there bloodless. The beings that rule the world are absolute evil, but if you are silent, you will hear music coming from your depths and speak to you of victory. I don't think they will win. They will try, of course, they bet their entire career on achieving the objectives of this process, but they will collide with the desire of a grandmother to see her grandson grow up peacefully, with the poignant love of a girl who is looking for her boyfriend among the crowd, with the certainties that two individuals have who have chosen each other for life, after so many years together. Theirs is an alienating project, many have attempted it before them, but not on such a large scale, only that Humanity cannot be alienated, it is in its code. You can make us suffer, but we will always remember the joy of a walk in the sun. They won't win. Humanity should never have been led to this crevasse, from which to observe the boundless space of the abyss, because the problems already existed before and we tried to live as best we could. The damage to the Psyche of the People was reckless and malevolent. Maybe someone is already trying to heal those wounds with interpretive intelligence and affection. Someone, for sure, has already lost and it is not said that they come back to themselves. We are witnessing the end of an era, that of the opulence of the West and they want to take us to slaughter, but they may have made an error of assessment, because People are not stupid and many have understood the little game. I will always be on the side of the least, because that has always been my place in the world.

My lady’s breast


​We were in lockdown at the time. I was alone, at home, thinking of my Woman, who couldn't join me, even though we lived a few kilometers away. It was a really difficult moment, I know now, but while we were living it, supported by the insinuating propaganda of the TV, which told us to be quiet and know how to wait, because our sacrifices would not have been in vain, I made myself strong, phoning my loved ones and dedicating myself to my passions. That was the juncture in which the new Tyranny took office, now it is clear: everyone at home, recluse, without social contacts, sad, making biscuits and bread. It was there that my thoughts took flight, coming from her who has given new meaning to my life: my Partner. So I began to reflect on the value of her wonderful breasts and I came to the conclusion that I had to place the world of emotions and thoughts that it aroused in me in a score. Thus she was born "My lady's breast". In that period everything was so confused that, if armed with analytical skills and critical sense, one could not believe a single word in the media. In fact, it would later be discovered that they were all blatantly lying. The great machination was in motion. I was with my people, the dissidents, I could do nothing but clean the windows of my windows and call my fiancée. There, in those moments, hoping that the pandemic would not last long, as the newspapers said, I raised my gaze towards Beauty, deciding to paint, with sounds, the amazement of an embrace that could not exist yet, the grace of a smile, that was only in memory and the warmth of hands that find you, warm, loving and healthy. My Partner couldn't be there with me, but I could describe her memory of her voice, always so loving and sinuous, the way she drinks her coffee in the morning, how she smiles at an unexpected surprise. We didn't know it, even the best informed couldn't have revealed it, but in those days a regime of terror was being established. A police state. A legalized scam to deceive all the peoples of the West, which, for some time, was no longer rich. So I made an effort to imagine how nice the meeting with my partner would be. How wonderful it would have been to hear the sound of her little feet moving around the house. I wrote how much I missed, in every way, not to perish. Now I know: at that time they were killing all our legitimate aspirations. We were all in jail, with no escape. The state, which until then, had tolerated us as anomalies, we who never believed the lies of the system, was now hitting us, in our constitutional rights, and was winning hands down. For a certain historical phase, the institutions had pretended to put up with us, with our revolutionary charge. At that precise moment, however, it was established that the different should be affected, in their ability to support themselves, in their affections, in their desire to live happily despite a blindly indifferent state. They appealed to man's most atavistic fear, that of dying. There was death everywhere. Television broadcast scenes of sickness and death at any hour of the day or night, bulletins of deaths rolled out like news from a football field. We were trapped. The only beautiful thought of my day was to talk to those I love. Listen to their voices. Dreaming of a reunion. Thus was born "My lady's breast", "The breast of my partner", in the struggle between good and evil, between life and death, not wanting to resign to an unhealthy idea of the world. Hoping for a new kiss. We didn't quite know what they were doing to us. We were disoriented. The extent of what was happening was greater than the darkness that our analytical skills could perceive, even though dissonant signals were arriving from many quarters for those who were searching for the truth. We were all trapped, yes, but some were trying to figure out what the real dominant dynamics were to take into account. We lived suspended. Our existence was in hibernation and no one could have told us clearly how long that agony would last. It was a trickle. The newspapers poured out death numbers, with an empathy of 0. We were told that there was nothing left for us to do but stay indoors. So I decided to plan my typical day: I would do the household chores, I would compose that piece that seemed beautiful to me right from the start. One morning I was alone at home, noise far from the building, the beginning of a Chopin ballad came to mind. Reflexes. I too wanted, for my score, something that would have an effect similar to that of the Polish genius in that composition. I started improvising on the keyboard. A few notes, the certainty of the desired effect: a particular chord, to which I had added a sound, to create a sensation of harmonic motion. I played the construct several times. I immediately went to my desk to write it. I knew, at that precise moment, that I had something precious in my hands. I stayed a few seconds listening to those sounds. They were beautiful. They smelled of the desire I had for my Partner. I felt satisfied. That was my way of not perishing under the ax of a system designed to hate men, annihilate them and enslave them. This state and the West do not love us. They disguised their true nature for decades after the end of the Second World War, but now they have come out into the twisted spiral of Capital that needs headless subjects. They do not have a personal and social realization project for us. They don't want us happy, but afraid and conditionable. At the end of the morning, to that truly beautiful chord, I added other harmonies, played them carefully on the keyboard and began to observe the avenue from the window. There was no one around: a ghostly sight. Now I know that everything they did to us was deeply wrong. Criminal. Absurd and in the absurd you cannot find meaning, you can only cultivate your own internal world in the hope of being able to get better soon. I thought of my partner, who was always with me, although the only way to be with her was the evening phone call. We were not prepared for the establishment of terror. No one was, not even the most pessimistic, since what was happening was truly monstrous. It was all illogical. None of us could have understood, because that sort of psychosis of theirs escapes the understanding capacity of a human being seeking health. They told us there was a terrible disease and that we would die. We were all distressed. Everyone, then, appealed to their own strength so as not to end badly. I thought of my companion, she was my happy thought. "My lady's breast" was taking shape. Little by little, I developed the structure, which, from the few notes played on the keyboard, was becoming an orchestral piece. Capital is generated with the contribution of sociopathic minds and the obedience of the majority. Now he wants everything and he will take everything if we let him. They entered people's bodies. They have achieved the ultimate form of submission. I know this now. Back then, while we were living that delirium, I didn't know it and I tried to leverage my tension to want to feel good. "My lady's breast" was born like this, between the fear dictated by an unreal situation and the certainty of a strong love that would not leave me, because real people are the ones who don't leave. I continued to compose in those days. I was delighted while I did it, thrilled at the idea of giving voice to the noblest feeling I had in my body, wondering what my Partner would say listening to it. I am a singer. I sing of a possibility that man has of being able to be happy, despite the pitfalls. I believe it. I have believed it for fifteen years, ever since my Partner re-meaned me. "My lady's breast" is the song of thanksgiving of a human being towards the emotional intelligence that made him capable of loving, working and living. "My lady's breast" fits perfectly into the "New Era of Light" artistic movement, since it celebrates love, which is a sine qua non. This tyranny wants us to forget love. The respect due to otherness. Diversity as a source of wealth and growth, to condemn us to a dark future. We need light. You need intelligence. Of clarity. Of sincerity. There is a war going on. They moved it to all of humanity. If we lose, all the people lose. We won't get up again. "My lady's breast" is the anthem of a man who adores his partner, and is an archetype. The love that resignifies everything, the love that heals everything, the love that interprets everything, with intelligence and wisdom. This piece is meant to be an invitation not to get lost. To remain tetragonal. To resist, because better days will come, new Beauty will show us the way. I believe it. I don't want to resign myself to the grossest stupidity that has been nursed by the system for the last thirty years. "My lady's breast" is the song of a revolutionary, an exile, one who has never felt represented by Coca Cola advertising. They are killing the man. His intelligence and depth. His impulses and dreams of him. The aspiration to become beautiful and live healthily with one's fellow humans. I walked away from everything. I don't fit into any category. If it weren't for my partner, I would be completely alone. "My lady's breast" is a constant thanks to the one who made my existence possible, loving me unconditionally. The piece of music has become part of a symphonic poem, which bears the same title: "My lady's breast" and I intend to bring it to life, without abandoning it in some drawer of my study. I have thought a lot, in these years of pandemic. I discovered a state insensitive to people's problems. A master state that demands the genuflection of its servants. We can save ourselves. The New Era of Light awaits us. We can do it. There is no alternative, otherwise they will build a world of automatons and reign forever. "My lady's breast" wants to be an invitation to use emotional intelligence, empathy, respect. They caused us trauma. Legal. Nationalized. Global. People deserve the possibility of self-determination, which has been killed by a totalitarian regime capable of making the lives of those who have not aligned themselves a hell. It's time to rebel. Revolution can also be made between the spaces of a pentagram, I know this and this always heartens me, especially when all seems lost, in a spiral of nonsense that has already made many people fall into the loss of their highest faculties, in pain and mourning. Love, the struggle for one's healthy identity, respect for the other, feeling part of a whole, are part of the progress of humanity, which, otherwise, is lost. A man must have all these resources in order to be truly happy. Otherwise, he is doomed to suffering, which is the real enemy of the Beauty of the human tribe. I have been observing people for many years. Some have achieved psycho-physical well-being, others not. Some have awakened from their slumber. Others are still dormant, but you can't live in hibernation forever. We need an awakening. Many are seeing the lies of the system. They are questioning and documenting. Others will follow the herd. Nothing can be done about it. They are lost. I just wish I could live my life without someone telling me what to do. Capital has been at a standstill for a while, now he has raised his head and demands blind obedience. His grip, in these pandemic years, has been deadly. "My lady's breast" is an act of rebellion on a pentagram, which does not want to resign itself to the idea that the world is going to hell. "My lady's breast" is what I felt at that time, what I see now and what I hope for everyone's future. The cure would be there waiting for those who want it. There would be a way for everyone to feel good together. The will for change can only throb in our veins. We decide which direction the world should take every day, making choices towards goodness. This world isn't doomed yet. It will become so if we all don't care and let the men of darkness act, who are tireless and methodical. We can't give up. "My lady's breast" is the vision of a possible world, in the New Age of Light, to come, waiting for us, like a loving mother. I hope this music can reach the heart of those who are searching for the Truth, since we are made of love.

1.

I repeat your name,
with force,
and I whisper it to the world,
which is dissociated,
It no longer sees Beauty,
and it longs to kill,
coming to the splitting of the ego.
I see your face,
among many,
so close to mine,
in a hug,
that smells of sanity and joy.

CHORUS

TV breastfeeds human beings,
with the poison of the rulers,
enemies of people,
who want to erase any form of intelligence,
on this planet.
We will resist,
opening a path.
Beauty will show us the way.

2. 

​States lie,
on too many things,
and people are confused,
because they no longer know who to believe.
This twenty-first century is not easy.
Many challenges await us,
and we must stand firm and strong,
not to go crazy.
Let's try to find the light!
We cannot have a more beautiful experience.
We look for the other,
which means us again.
​

A few days ago, in a Facebook group that I follow carefully, a boy posted a photo he took of a page of an ancient music manual he is studying. It was an excerpt from a Greek tragedy by Euripides, "Orestes". The piece in question, reworked by a musicologist, derives from an Egyptian papyrus found some time ago and illustrates 7 verses of the tragedy, from number 338 to number 344. I carefully observed the photo of his book. I was immediately intrigued by the metric signs of the verses and the indications underlining that some notes should be altered by a quarter tone. Then, starting from the photograph of the book, I did a search to see the original papyrus and I observed it with love, because that is a 2400-year-old work of art, dated 408 BC. I just had to get to work. The idea was to start from the melody of the choir to create a series of harmonies to accompany it. I transcribed the notes. I saw how, in certain passages, there were the interventions of a hypothetical woodwind instrument, which I noted in the score. I then respected the Greek meter of words. The harmonization was born spontaneously, without too much effort, and I'm really happy about this. Thirteen intense bars, like the text that the choir sings, which begins with a "I grieve". The full text of the 7 lines of the tragedy “Orestes” is: “I grieve, I grieve - Your mother's blood drives you wild. Great prosperity among mortals is not lasting: upsetting it like the sail of a swift sloop some higher power swamps in the rough doom-waves of fearful toils, as of the sea". These words struck me, making me think. We are all fragile, but we can know the wonders of the Universe and of life, which flows inside, around, above and below us, guided by Beauty, which is everywhere. The wisdom of those verses influenced me in choosing the sounds to write in the score. They are words about the indeterminacy of men's destiny, the similarity of the boat amidst the imperious waves of the sea is effective. Since then, since these words were consigned to a papyrus 2400 years ago, the human condition has not changed. We are all boats prey to the most terrible storms and our prosperity always seems illusory and ephemeral, and maybe it really is. With these thoughts, I composed my 13 bars of music, to honor the classical Greek world of which I feel like a child. There have been many reshuffles in the drafting, stylistic choices to be made, a formal structure to be determined, in this work of mine. In the end, the ensemble, which I formed, is composed of: a flute, an oboe, the choir, violins I, violins II, violas and cellos. I didn't find it appropriate to add anything else. It seemed to me that the ensemble worked like this. I'm satisfied. I find what I have composed beautiful and I am moved by the idea of ​​having given new life to a work of art from 408 BC. Clearly, all the decisions taken during this work of composition are personal, but I was interested in hearing what a fragment of more than two millennia ago had to say today. We are all heirs of the Greeks here in the West… The musical part is over. I won't go back to it. This composition moved slowly, between doubts and uncertainties, and in the end, I am convinced of the goodness of my work, characterized by freedom and the pursuit of good taste. No one knows how the original music of the tragedy sounded, not even musicologists, so my interpretation is free and based on the firm points of the reconstruction made by the author of the book from which this fragment was taken. It was very nice to taste the sounds written in 408 BC.! It was an immersion in the Beauty of a world that no longer exists, but has left indelible marks of a highly advanced civilization… I like my 13 measures and my Partner also found them beautiful, which filled my heart of joy, since I write for you, inspiring Muse and wonderful Woman. It is 1 minute of music, dense, rich, harmonious, as I imagine the music that accompanied the shows of ancient Greece to have been. The use of quarter tones questioned me deeply, but in the end I chose not to use them, for reasons of harmony. The music bears a subtitle: "I grieve", since this is the first verse of the 7. My minute of Greek music allows me to fly to where I have been, on an island in front of Chalkidiki, to look out again on that balcony to admire the vastness of the sea that welcomes the first ray of the sun and lights up after the dark of the night. I give this music of mine to everyone, may it be a messenger of beauty and grace. Today I'm posting a video presentation, with my music, inspired by the tragedy of Euripides, "Orestes", and graphic reworking of my partner, Bozzoli Marinella. There is the photo of the papyrus with the verses of the Greek author and a photo from NASA, "The Pillars of Creation". At the end the inscription appears: "... And from the experiences the sounds were born"...
​