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الحرب War Guerra

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    * English and Italian to follow

الحرب

 سأحاولأنأضعكمفيموقفتشعرونفيهبمشاعرمختلفةكليةعنتلكالمشاعرالتيعادةماأراهاعلىوجوهأولئكالذينيلاحظونويحكمونمنبعيد. فالكتابالصحفيونيكتبونعنالجانبالمرعبوالمروعللصراعاتدونماأدنىإدراكبأنمايقومونبهيزيدمنصعوبةإدراكالناس / القراءلمايحدثفيمنطقةالمعارك. فالموتمعاناة،والفقدانمأساة. لكنليسهذاكلماينتجعنالحرب.

ممالاشكفيهأنالناسيدركونحقيقةالأشياءمنداخلحدودالنظمالاجتماعيةوأنانطباعاتهمتتبلوربصورةتدريجيةنتيجةللديناميكياتالمحددةوغالبًاماتكوننتاجًالمشاعرمتناقضة. فتتأرجحالحربمابينآلياتالرقابةوالحكمالصارموحوادثالاضطراباتالخارجية،وأحيانًاتجمعبينهماسويًا،إلىأنتبلغذروتهابسببشدةوسرعةالأحداث. فصلاًعنأنالحربتعطىصورةًللحقائقالتيقدتبدوبعيدةًعنالسيناريوهاتالاقتصاديةالعالميةلكنهاوثيقةالصلةبها. كماأنالحروبمدعومةبغيابالاهتمامبالشعوبوعدمالاكتراثبهم.

فالحربتخلُفُالفوضى،وهيأمربديهيوغريزيلدىالبشر.

إذإنهاتملأالروحبمشاعرلامتناهيةوتفتحأبوابإدراكالواقععلىمصراعيها.

فالحروبتتحرككالظلفوقرؤوسالشعوب،وكالفيروسالذييضربالشعوببمشاعرمزيجبيناليأسالمطلقالعميق،إلىالمتعةوالسعادةالصافية.

كماتساهمالحروبفيإذكاءالإحساسبالكروبوالتيتصبحغيرمحتملةوتنفجرفيصورةمحاولاتللأخذبالثأروالانتقام.

أضفإلىذلكأنالسخطوالاستياءيؤديانإلىتولُّدالإذلالفينفوسالشعوبوإذكاءالشعوربالظلم،وغيابالعدل.

ونظرًالأنالأماكنتعبرعنفحواهاوعَبَقهاعبرأولئكالذينيعيشونبها،فإنمجردالافتراضبأنقيامأحدمابكتابةتقريرعنالحربمنمكتبهيشبهإلىحدكبيرتخيلأنأيفرديمكنهضمانعودةالروحإلىجسدهمرةأخرىبعدالوفاة. إنمايمكنأنيكونحقيقيًاعنالحربالسوريةهيتلكالتحليلاتالجيوسياسيةالتييطلقهاالخبراءالأجانب؛فضلاًعنالمقاتلينالأجانبالمأجورينللقتلأوالذينتحركهماعتقاداتهمالخاصة؛إضافةإلىانحرافسادةالعالمالماديالراغبينفيممارسةسلطاتالغزولتدميرالبنيةالتحتيةوإعادةبناءهامرةأخرى،تاركينعلامتهمومسمياتهمعلىالأعمالالناتجة.

فالحربتندلعفيفترةزمنيةمعينة،وذلكعندماتتحدمجموعةعناصرداخليةوأخرىخارجيةلإحداثالانفجار. فعمليةتحولالصراعإلىحربتتمبصورةتدريجية. إذإنالحروبلاتندلعفجأةولايجدالإنساننفسهفريسةللحربصدفة.

كماأنهناكعدةأشياءأخرىحقيقيةعنالحربالسوريةوهيالمعنىالحقيقيللإذلالالذييصبهعلىالشعبذاكالديكتاتورالذييبلغمنالعمر 40 عامًا،وتلكالحكومةالتيتبذلكلمافيجعبتهاووسعهالإبقاءالشعبالصوريتحتوطأةتلكالحربوالرعبالمُسْتَعِر. كماأنهناكأمرجدحقيقيوهوذاكالاستخدامغيرالمسبوقللقوةالمفرطةمنجانبالسلطاتالحكوميةضدشعبأعزلتماستغلالمواردهفيصنعوتكوينهذهالقوةالعسكريةفيالجيشالنظامي. كماأنهمنالحقيقيأيضًاذلكالتحولالروحيلأولئكالذينيشاهدونمُدُنهموقُرَاهمتملؤهابحورمنالدماءالمُسال،ولاشيءيملكونهسوىالشكريقدمونهلأولئكالذينيقفونبجوارهمللدفاععنهم.                                                    أوتافياماسيمو                                                                                                                                             

WAR

I will try to make you feel emotions quite different from the ones I usually see on the faces of those who observe and judge from afar.  Journalists write about the terrifying side of conflicts without realizing that in so doing they are making it harder for people to grasp what is really going on in in a battle zone. Death is suffering. Loss. Tragedy. But that is not all war is about.

People perceive things from within the boundaries of social systems and their perceptions evolve gradually as a result specific dynamics and of often contradictory feelings. War oscillates between mechanisms of strict control and instances of extreme disorder, sometimes present together, amplified by the intensity and speed of events.  War also mirrors realities that may be physically distant but are closely connected with global economic scenarios. They are sustained by the absence of any perception of individuals as such.

War is essentially chaos. Instinct. Improvisation. It fills the spirit with endless emotions and opens up the gates of perception. It moves like a shadow over populations, like a virus that strikes people with emotions running from the deepest despair to the purest joy.

It brings in its wake a feeling of anguish which soon becomes unbearable and explodes in vendettas. Discontent generates humiliation and a growing sense of injustice.

Just as places express their essence through those that live there, to suppose that one can report on a war from an office desk is like imagining one can guarantee the soul an after-life.  What is true about the Syrian war are the geopolitical analyses provided by foreign experts; the presence of foreign combatants either paid to kill or driven by their own convictions; the perversion of the Masters of the material world bent on conquering in order to destroy and rebuild, and to leave their mark on resulting work.

War breaks out at a specific moment in time, when a number of internal and external factors combine to explode. The process whereby a conflict becomes a war is gradual. Wars don’t happen by chance, nor does one find oneself in one by accident.

Also true about the Syrian war are the real humiliations inflicted on the population by a 40-year-old dictatorship, and all that the Government has done to keep the Syrian people under its heel through raw terror. Very real too is the unconditional use of a government forces   against the people whose resources helped create that army. But also true is the spiritual transformation of those who have seen their towns and villages run with blood and who can only thank whoever comes to their side to defend them.

 GUERRA 

Proverò a suscitare emozioni diverse dalle espressioni che solitamente leggo sui volti di chi osserva e giudica da lontano. I giornalisti raccontano il terrore dei conflitti, non rendendosi conto di allontanare la reale percezione della verità all’interno di una zona di lotta. La morte è dolore. Perdita. Tragedia. Ma non unicamente ciò che identifica una guerra. La percezione umana all’interno del sistema di una società, si muove attraverso dinamiche graduali e sentimenti contrastanti.  Come la guerra oscilla tra meccanismi di controllo e disordine estremi che si manifestano contemporaneamente e in maniera amplificata nella intensità e velocità degli avvenimenti. Un riflesso più o meno speculare di  realtà lontane ma strettamente connesse dai fenomeni economici mondiali.

Nutrite dall’assenza di percezione dell’ Individuo.

La guerra è essenzialmente kaos. Istinto. Improvvisazione.                                                                 Un’infinità di emozioni che avvolgono l’anima spalancando la percezione.                                   Un’ombra che si allarga a contagiare i popoli attraverso sentimenti che vanno dalla disperazione più profonda alla gioia più pura. Una sensazione di fastidio che diventa insopportabile ed esplode in vendetta. Un malcontento che genera umiliazione e crescente senso di ingiustizia.

Come i luoghi raccontano la propria essenza attraverso chi li vive, pretendere di saper narrare la guerra dalla poltrona di un ufficio, è come supporre di poter garantire all’anima la prossima vita.  Della guerra siriana sono vere le analisi geopolitiche effettuate da analisti esterni. La presenza di combattenti stranieri pagati per uccidere o fomentati da convinzioni  proprie. La perversione dei Signori del mondo materiale, intenzionati a conquistare per distruggere, ricostruire, firmare l’opera finale.

La guerra scatta in un momento epocale preciso, in cui più fattori interni ed esterni si incontrano per esplodere. Al livello per cui un conflitto si definisce guerra,  si arriva gradualmente. Non avviene né ci si trova per caso.

Della guerra siriana sono vere le umiliazioni che la dittatura quarantennale ha inflitto. Gli avvenimenti sporadici attraverso cui il governo ha dominato il popolo infondendo terrore. L’utilizzo incondizionato della forza militare governativa, costruita attraverso le risorse dei  cittadini ed esercitata contro gli stessi. La trasformazione spirituale di chi ha vissuto il sangue del proprio Paese e non può far altro che ringraziare chiunque arrivi a difenderlo.

                                                                                                                                  Ottavia Massimo

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Holy Friday. Bloody Friday

ITALIAN + PHOTOS – http://ottaviamassimo.com/2013/05/31/venerdi-santo-venerdi-sangue/

MAY 2013 – Aleppo, SYRIA

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Friday Aleppo is Bustan al Q’sser. An area of palaces that chases each other, from the bridge over the river,  up to the Old City. In Syria friday is a dangerous day. A day of rest. For Allah. The day when you gather at Shar al Bad’r  to pray,  screaming all together Allah is the greatest. But on Friday, Allah rests. While in Aleppo you die.

Today, I’m afraid. Adel is waiting for me at the border with his miny bus. It is the only appointment that I have, I hope to arrive by 11:30, before the beginning of the prayer. It’s been more than a month that I don’t go to Aleppo. So many things have happened. It was established Sharia Court. Kidnapped a friend. Killed another friend for which, of the murder, were blamed and acquitted my best friends in this part of Syria. Which are not here now, because the guilty of the murder has not yet been decided and the victim’s family is thirsty of revenge. The road has changed. There is no longer the great checkpoint “Industiral City Sheikh Najar”, before you had to make a long detour, now you pull straight up to Aleppo. The streets are crawling with people running and coming back from the market. The traffic is exhausting. As in all Arab cities, as in all the great cities of the world. If I had not already been, I would almost think of being in the noisy normality of a Middle-Eastern Friday. From the Turkish border, Aleppo is reached via a road that runs along cultivated fields and rural villages. Gradually from the countryside, you are immersed among industrial districts and housing. Today it is sunny. I’m used to the roar of the planes that haunts you ears and brain, when it is sunny. How strange, so far only a roar in the distance.

The boys at the check points are happy, They stop us, smile, ask me if I’m a journalist, to show them the documents. I say no. They approach intrigued. I show the bag of medicines and shoes. The smile widens and almost always, from the mouth comes a – Mash’Allah, sent by the Lord.

Begin the first piles of garbage. The trash that before skirted the road to form a wall miles long, seems to be greatly diminished. It ‘a serious problem the garbage. In Syria Leishmaniasis is spreading and Aleppo, in particular, is ravage by typhus.

I get off at Bustan al Q’sser, is full of people, the generators are working, shops are open, offering coffee granite, roast chicken. Traders shout the sale of fruits, vegetables, peanuts, bananas are everywhere. Large, swollen, brand Ciquita. I ask where they come from, a gentleman indicates a point towards the area under the control of the regime.

It ‘almost noon. From the front door of the mosque a line of people waiting, stretches up to the street, between the market stalls and cars. Children chase each other not caring of the sounds of war coming from the Old City at less than two miles away. They play, but the look reveals an unconscious wisdom, that forced and ruthless experience that life imposes. Learn or die. Two years have passed from the beginning of the revolution, but people continue to have children. It’s full of newborn babies. In the houses, on front lines, in hospitals. I think about the growing number of suicides in my country, holder of one of the world records for low birth annually. In Syria, the revolution seems to stand on the energy of children, their smiles, the projection of their future.

The prayer begins. You bend the head, bust, kneel, you kiss the earth. The more we are, the more Allah will be inclined to listen.

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The Qur’an consists of 114 chapters. One hundred and fourteen sura, a fractal of the period of time between Buddha and Mohammed, based on the theory that human civilization is a function of the geology of the Earth. Five hundred and seventy years between Christ and Buddha and five hundred and seventy years between Christ and M’hammed, that add up to a total of one thousand one hundred and forty years, 114 x 10. The Qur’an contains in itself the mathematical formula of four dimensional time based on code 0-19. The discovery is attributed to a scientist of Egyptian origin who graduated in biochemistry at the University of California, who discovered the relationship between the code 0-19 of the Maya and 19 of the Qur’an. The scientist was assassinated on January 31, 1990.

He had in mind to do a translation of the Koran and he would have been the first Arabic to translate the holy book in English. When he began the translation, he realized a mysterious peculiarities. Of the 114 chapters, there were 29 who had a “mystical letter” at the beginning. He subjected the Qur’an to computer analysis. Analyzed each of the 6436 verses, trying to determine the meaning of the mysterious mystic letters and discovered that you will find those letters, every time that the number 19 recurs.

He published his research in the ’80s and scientific journals dedicated to him a lot of attention. In that brief but intense period of fame, he stated that to be Muslim, you need only the Qur’an. This discovery and the upheaval that ensued, led to believe that the historical Islam was falling, because the same had rejected the Qur’an as text, following instead the invented “Hadith” and innovations of the Sunna. The researcher stated that the Hadith and the Sunna are the Koran, as the Catholic Church is the original teaching of Jesus.               In 1984, the government of Saudi Arabia, found and burned many of the books and documents concerning the discovery. The scientist died in the mosque of which he took care, in Tucson, Arizona. Murdered by an Islamic group from Colorado Springs, on the morning of January 31, 1990.

In the Qur’an it is stated that there is no distinction between the messengers. The messengers are sent to all peoples, all cultures, at all times. Over time, all the past messages, include and consume all the previous messages. The Quran contains the secret of the Universal religion, the message of the Law of Time. A message that proves the existence of a mathematics of the fourth dimension and that in fact, in the fourth dimension the number is his real language. At the root of every culture there are numbers 13 and 20. In Sanskrit language, 20 consonants and 13 vowels, in the language of the trees of the druids, 13 moons are named after the trees and an alphabet of 20 letters.

There is a higher and sacred mathematics, based on the 20 and not on 10, a vigesimal system, rather than decimal. The Essence of Time, is not in duration, counted in hours, minutes and mechanics seconds. The essence of time is in perception. The ability to perceive the synchronicity among the twenty fingers and toes and the thirteen major joints, reflecting the thirteen moons.

The old city of Aleppo is a memory that fades as the red of the blood on the rubble that tell it.

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A strong bang, suddenly interrupts the talk, smile, immobilizes steps and thoughts, the fast gestures of the traders, looks to the sky, a thousand hands placed on the forehead to see better, to understand from where, this time, and which building was hit. How many children have died embraced their mothers and how many fathers will run from the market to see who was reached, to shout a pain that they will not forget and will turn into revenge. A cloud of smoke and dust rises huge, imposing, majestic. People start to run away, it is the first explosion and the aircraft usually hit twice in a row, at a distance of three to seven minutes. They are MIG 21. You do not hear them, you do not see them. Until the first cries will start tearing the brain and then a deafening roar will cover them and while you run, you open your eyes wide and you’ll finally see it. A silver reflection threads into the sky disappearing into the hell of your paradise. You seek him, you follow him, you wait for him. But it’s always too late. When you see him, someone is already dead.

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The target was probably a hospital a couple of hundred meters from the bombing. Women scream resignation and anger – Why do not you come to an agreement? Enough war, we have no more children to sacrifice! – If the explosion had hit the target, they would have died about twenty-five boys admitted with gunshot wounds. It was rather hit a house. Three kids died.

Aleppo lives at night. There is a curfew, journalists do not go out because the photographers can not work at night and are charged for the room, not for the fixer. But as in many other war zones, the objectives are surrounded after sunset. The attack is launched after midnight. You hide just before dawn.

I wake up with rockets lighting up the sky over the Old Town. I’m sleeping in a house far away about two and a half kilometers from the objective of the bombing, the fourth floor of a building behind an enemy zone. The rockets leave from there,  the roar of the launch pierces your ears. From the district of the demonstrations, Bustan al Q’sser, some shots of Shilka, the flak. In Libya we were celebrating with cannon shots, the Shilka was used instead of fireworks, because every shot is followed by a red light that cuts the horizon.

In Syria the sky seems to cry flakes of blood. Someone knocks on the door, the owner of the house who lives upstairs, launches into the room with her three children clinging to the skirt. Terrified looks, the children tremble, the mouth open, the hands over the ears, eyes wide open on the window, her mother closes it, I  reopen it saying that the glasses are worse than the sheet metal. We sit, we hug, pray, but the voice does not come out and words are whispers of terror, too big, unbearable, filled with the pain of fear and remembrance of the blood of two years of war. Bang. Whistle. Light. Explosion. Tears. The thin veins of the hands of the children seem to explode at every roar.

They look at me seeking answers, another bombing, I start to scream – Allah akbar Allah akbaaaar! – The mother looks at me curiously, I smile, I look at the kids, I clench my fists, arms in the air – Allah akbar, hada nahne, Allah akbaaaaar! God is great, it’s us bombing, Jesh al Hurr, they are the rebels! God is greaaaaaat! – The children lose the hold of the hands on the skirt, they swallow, smile, shake their fists and scream with me Allah akbaaaar. Now at each explosion, we celebrate. And if they hit us? Images of deaths already lived are hammering the brain – if we will be the next, if I will live, what to say to his father? If only one of the children will survive, he will condemn me for having deceived him – you said that we were winning, that the barrels were our friends, that there was nothing to be afraid of. What will I say when terrified by the silence of the blood of injustice he will ask me – WHY ‘.

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PHOTOS: http://ottaviamassimo.com/2013/05/31/venerdi-santo-venerdi-sangue/


What is normality to you?#Cos’è per te la normalità?

Aleppo – SYRIA

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Bizarre how the spirit can adjust and get used to anything. Disgusting the deep lack of perception of who is addicted to adrenaline, success, money and nothing else. According to the majority of journalists that were covering frontlines in Halep: “there is nothing interesting anymore, life is normal”.

You can walk around in the market without fearing to get shot by a sniper, it’s true. You’ll probably feel safe even if warplanes are flying around. They will not target the market, they will not bomb one of the business run by the government on the enemy’s side. You’ll maybe get shot if you’ll try to clean the garbage on the streets. The sky at night it’s a battle of lights and explosions, but journalists sleep at that time. “I can’t take pictures anyways at night, who cares”.

It’a shame, because who has the opportunity and responsability to inform the world, seems to have no interest about real lives behind frontlines. Not everyone, but the majority of who is building the appearence of this war. Few of them are incredible Beings hambdullah.

..people are just going completely nuts, here.
But there is nothing interesting anymore in Halep, life is normal.

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Incredibile osservare i livelli di adattamento dello spirito. Disgustosa la mancanza di percezione di chi gode unicamente della tipologia di dipendenza che l’adrenalina, il successo e i soldi provocano. Secondo la maggior parte dei giornalisti presenti sui fronti ad Aleppo: “non c’è più nulla di interessante ad Aleppo, la vita è normale”.

Puoi camminare tra le vie del mercato senza più provare quell’atroce terrore di essere colpito da un cecchino, è vero. Ti sentirai probabilmente al sicuro anche se gli aerei da guerra  ti volano intorno. Non prenderanno di mira il mercato, non verrà loro ordinato di bombardare uno dei business che il governo esercita sul fronte nemico. Forse ti spareranno se proverai ad aiutare a pulire l’immondizia sulle strade. La notte il cielo è una battaglia di luci ed esplosioni, ma i giornalisti dormono a quell’ora. “Non posso fotografare di notte, comunque, chissene frega”.

E’ un peccato, perchè chi ha l’opportunità e la responsabilità di informare il mondo, sembra non avere interesse per la vita che scorre dietro ai fronti. Non tutti, ma la maggioranza di chi sta costruendo lo scenario di questa guerra. Alcuni di loro sono Esseri incredibili, grazie a Dio.

..la gente sta soltanto uscendo pazza, qui.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  Ma non c’è più niente di interessante ad Aleppo, la vita è normale.


Deir Ezzor – SYRIA

Accept your polarities                                                                                                                                                                                                ..this war is happening because her mirror it’s your indifference

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PEOPLE OF WAR. MECHANIC TIME VS NATURAL TIME

ITALIANhttp://ottaviamassimo.com/2013/01/04/tempo-meccanico-vs-tempo-naturale-text-5-photos/

The System is against love

Dialogues between misunderstood people and incomprehensible dimensions

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“Who are you? You’re not a journalist.” Are you? Sadiqi knocked on my door one night, two months ago. I was just out of Syria, and he came to pick me up at the border accompanied by a mutual friend. He said he was a freelancer. He was very quiet. A smiling person. He had a lively look. A flicker of perverse intelligence in his eyeswhen they stop they enter into your soul in order to understand. And to spread a mysterious pain. Sadiqi is a mercenary. He is paid by a state of the Middle East. He has killed sevenhundredandeightytwo people. He is a sniper, an executor. He does not shoot at random, he does not waste bullets, he does not kill from the fear of being killed. Of African origins, he belongs to the most important family of a tribe of Central Africa. He grew up in France. At sixteen he joined the Foreign Legion. He left it after four years instead of five, after killing a superior for matters of honor. He joined the army in Algeria. He married a girl who gave birth to his son. She and part of the family live in a city in the south of France. Sadiqi, why did you choose to do this job? “For the adrenaline. Nothing like a war front activates the mechanism by which the excitation erases memories and past.” From the ethical point of view, how important is the side to which you decide to belong? “A few months ago I received a proposal from the Syrian regime in office. I refused.” Why? They did not pay enough? He laughs. “Are you kidding me? We are speaking of tens of thousands of dollars per month. I refused because Bashar Al Assad is killing his own population without logic or discrimination.” Sadiqi, why did you choose this job, what happened, what happened to you? He does not answer. His gaze to the ground, his hands clenched into a fist. I insist. “You know why I make people call me like this? Sadiqi was the name of my son. He was six. Suddenly he disappeared. I received a phone call in which I was told that to have my child back I would have to pay one million Euros. I refused. I knew that if I accepted they would have continued to haunt me. My family is one of the richest families in the city. I know how those things work. Sadiqi was found dead a week later, a few kilometers from the city center.” And then what happened? “I killed the whole family of the person responsible for the kidnapping. Except a baby.” How many were there? “Three. Him, his wife and his son.” Why not just him? Why not the baby? “The son, because his father had killed my son and because he would have taken revenge. The mother,to prevent her from talking. Him, for obvious reasons. For the baby I found a family of adoption.” How do you know how many people you have killed? “I do not shoot at random. Not even on the frontline. A magazine contains 30 bullets. I use an average of two per person.” How does it feel to kill a child? “I only do this as a matter of honor and vindication to those who have done the same.” Sadiqi. Look at me. How does it feel to kill a child?... How do you do it, do you shoot him? “No. It’s a quick job. Clean, no blood. I break his neck by twisting his head.” How many people really know who you are? “A few. Here only you. And I do not think you want to die for so little.”

It’s night. It’s raining. We are about twenty kilometers from Aleppo, Syria. We are preparing a mission in support of the attack on AlMushad headquarters, under the control of the regime of Bashar Al Assad. The cold is bearable. Running in the mud is not pleasant but with the clouds the planes don’t fly, so this is the best time to encircle the targets. The house we are occupying is that of a family evacuated a few hours ago. We are twelve.  They put a Kalashnikov in my hand.  I give it back pointing at the camera and the sky, saying Allah u bes, Allah and nothing else. We go out in the yard for a smoke. Every now and then we hear the whistling of the bullets of the snipers among the olive trees about five hundred meters away. The house is one of the headquarters and around there are other revolutionaries, fifty or so, to protect our and other occupied farms. “Today is a beautiful day!” Why? “Because I am still alive. When this war is over we’ll get married.” I laugh. I believe in love, not in contracts. Long live freedom! “If you don’t marry me I’ll kill you.” Perfect. Thank you! “You can choose to live or die. It is not difficult. ” Sadiqi, who was the first? He does not answer, like two months ago. He looks down and smiles. “You never forget anything, eh?!” Tell me then, just why you do not want to say. “Why do you want to know?” Because when you look at me I get a sharp old pain. Who was the first, Sadiqi, how old were you? “Less than fourteen. He was the brother of my mother. I killed him with my own hands.” While sleeping? “No. I never killed anyone who did not look me straight into the eyes.” What is Time? “Not to die. War teaches you to appreciate every single moment in which you are allowed to breathe. Why are you a Muslim? ” It’s a long story. “We have time.” I am a messenger. Allah saved me from Mars when it disintegrated, I grew up on Sirius, the star. He sent me on Earth twenty-three thousand years ago. I am a bit fed up, I want to go back home. “Why did he send you here?” To help the human race avoid extinction. “And how would you think to save it”?

I am not the only one, Alhambdulillah! We are a group of brothers, from different planets, all sent to Earth to activate consciences. He smiles. You may not believe it, it’s your problem. “And where are the others?” Around the world, transmitting codes. As far as I know, I am the only one to cover the war zones. “Codes?Yes. Each one of us is a transmission channel of perception to other dimensions. A being from Venus came, he was born in Argentina. With the features of a woman. She passed me a code which appeared to me in my eyes throughout precise geometric figures. I gave her mine. We recognized each other as belonging to a single mission. For nine years, she has been traveling around the world enabling beings who have varying levels of consciousness. Consciousness develops through the storage of information that gradually connects to form non-random stories. She tried to lead me away from war. I told her about the instructions I get and finally she realized that I still cannot get away from wars, because my powers are activated in those dimensions. “Why Islam. What is your mission?” “Do you think Allah is pleased with all this blood? Do you believe that Jihad is truly a holy war to be fought with weapons and terror? Do you think that Muslims today are really interpreting the thought and the will of Allah? Buddha, Allah and Christ. I believe in all three but Allah gives me the instructions. God is one, but works in three parts depending on the ages and the areas of the world. Listen. What is happening on Earth is nothing but a reflection of what humanity emanates. Currently there are about sixty small and large conflicts in the world. The most cruel wars are Islamic. The current interpretation of the essence of Islam, Jihad, is nothing but a reflection of the same constraints that apply to minorities. Think of the West. Look how many cases of cancer there are.

Cancer cells move in the body devouring its organs and tissues, until their complete depletion. Just like in that part of the world, humanity builds and invades the territory. Without mercy nor respect for the environment. Consequences: earthquakes and diseases. “What is your mission?” To activate the consciousness of the most beings possible. “Why?” Because I am trying to get out from the Earth’s dimension. “But why wars?” To create a bridge of consciousness between good and evil. “If you’re so conscious of evil, why do you need to live it”? Because my soul is still polar and not yet incarnated. The incarnation takes place through the experience and the acceptance of our own polarities. We are what we release, not the matter which surrounds us. “What is the purpose?” To return to live in the vibration frequency 13:20. To return consciences to the Natural Time dimesion. “That is?” We are trapped in the temporal dimension of the Gregorian calendar based on the artificial cycle of twelve moons, Mechanical Time installed on Earth in order to make souls gradually lose the power to travel between dimensions. Thirty days a month, twenty-eight, thirty-one, sometimes twenty-nine. As a matter of fact, the months are thirteen each of them of twenty-eight days. Simple, logical, natural. Return to live thirteen moons through the perception means remembering to get away from the concept of material Time, the main cause for the involution of the soul which will continue to reincarnate on this planet. According to scientific studies we use on average 8% of our brain. The remaining 92% is anesthetized by the polarities chasing the matter away from the essence of the emotions we feel. The current world system is against love, that is the reason why there are so many wars.

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Despite what people say, time does not cure if you do not find a way to vent anger without resorting to revenge. If you get stuck between the dynamics of revenge, disappointments, and traumas, anger will unconsciously be nourished by the illusion of relief and satisfaction that revenge pretends to provide every time. The feeling of revenge drives the production of adrenaline. Adrenaline is addictive. Revenge is a dimension in which the mind engages the feelings in a space regulated by anger mechanisms. War moves through dynamics of additiction, ruled by the feeling of emptiness created by the lack of love. The feelings that a war zone is capable of producing, creates the illusion of not having the time for painful memories. As a drug, the war seems to stop time, so nothing has value apart from the essence imposed by a given circumstance. In war there is no time to think. Mind games have no place.

“Ottavia, what is war?” War is a desperate scream in search of feelings. The reflection of the part of the world distracted by material needs that your own ego deceives to have. War is against love as it is the system regulated by the wish of fame and power.

Dying is nothing more than not having time to perceive.

Ottavia Massimo

Syrio from Syria

Syrio from Syria

TRANSLATION:  C. M.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Published by The Trip magazine/Italy  

http://www.thetripmag.com/blog/2013/01/14/tempo-meccanico-vs-tempo-naturale/


Il sole e la guerra#The sun and the war

A parte le usuali considerazioni, psicologicamente parlando, la guerra è un fenomeno che sconvolge l’anima alle radici della percezione. L’istinto che porta al sorriso, in Syria, è mutato in terrore. Quando il sole splende fiero e caldo, il cielo è limpido, la terra accogliente, l’essere si sente rassicurato e lo spirito sorride. Non in Syria. In Syria, quando c’è il sole, ci sono gli aerei. Aerei da guerra. In Syria, quando ti svegli e c’è il sole, il sorriso si rompe nello sguardo atterrito dei bambini che con la bocca spalancata sembrano voler divorare il rombo che si avvicina. Come il loro spirito soltanto, fosse in grado di inghiottire il dolore del silenzio all’alba di un nuovo giorno.
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Apart from the usual considerations, psychologically speaking, war is a phenomenon that upends the soul at the roots of perception. The instinct that leads to a smile, in Syria, is mutated in terror. When the sun shines proud and warm, the sky is clear, the earth is welcoming, the being feels reassured and the spirit smiles. Not in Syria. In Syria, when the sun is shining, there are planes. Warplanes. In Syria, when you wake up and the sun is shining, the smile breaks in the terrified look of the children who, with wide open mouth, seem to want to devour the approaching roar. As if only their spirits could swallow the pain of silence at the dawn of a new day.

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THE OPTICAL WORLD AND THE HYPER PRODUCTION OF DRUGS BY NOSE

ITALIAN – http://ottaviamassimo.com/2010/08/05/il-mondo-ottico-e-liper-produzione-di-droghe-da-naso/

Among the substances placed on the market, there is a hyper-production of drugs for the respiratory system.

The evolution of human beings and consequential levels of adaptation, has generated masses of people more and more similar to each other. The close contact has resulted in conscious and unconscious levels of competition for which it was necessary a transformation of the concept of time and sensory perceptions related to survival. Listening to their own and others’ feelings, has reached levels of learning fundamentally linked to the image. The run-time is warped in the creation of a world almost exclusively optical. The first sensory organ to suffer is the olfactory apparatus. The first to develop and the only one able to transmit to the conscious direct sensations, not influenced by the brain.

Your genius is in your nostrils – Nietzsche

Conscience, the sense of smell, the fear of living.

Over the past three years, the percentage of people who require surgery on their nose for problems related to substance use, has grown by 18%. Dust. Grains of microparticles created in the laboratory and almost totally synthetic. Convicted and raised to queens of nights and working afternoons. Odorless. Usually white. Seemingly harmless because psychologically, to white our unconscious associates Good. Invisible. Any substance or chemical has its own natural and ideal mode of application. There are three main ways. Veins. Mouth. Nose. Substances that tells the current fashion, are chemically designed to be taken through the respiratory tract. What are cocaine, heroin, ketamine or dust from the encoded names, when the brain is programmed to take drugs, the first step is usually the nose. Even products designed to be taken orally: pills, medicines, sleeping pills or stimulants, are often powdered and used in the nostrils.

Why? We wonder what we constantly stuck in our nose, when the question we must ask should be: which kind of instrument we are using to deal with the substances we choose?

At a time when the evolution of thoughts and consequent actions, occurs at a rate controlled primarily by the image, is now only in the ability to appear that we keep pace with the times. The drugs for the nose are almost invisible. The act of sniffing is fast, lightning, flash. The effect is immediate. The evolution of humanity has created groups of individuals in close contact with each other. The growing confusion on the population density in some areas of the world, has generated swirling rhythms of life, reduced to being the time listening to the sensory perceptions. The first to suffer is the olfactory apparatus.

Of the five senses, smell is the only one to suffer immediate temporal chenges. The smell is different from the other senses because it gets tired quickly. If we look at  an image for a long time, we continue to see it. If we touch a surface for a long time, we continue to hear if it is smooth or rough. If we eat much sugary food, its essential sweetness will not decrease. If there are noise and we do not change our position, we continue to hear them. But when we persist in smelling something, after a while we do not perceive the smell. We get used to the smell. This adaptability combined with the ease of plastic surgery used to satisfy visual perception by improving the image, led us unconsciously to consider the olfactory apparatus as merely an instrument related to visual pleasure. Cosmetic damage caused by the misuse of our nose, is nothing compared to the chronic and systematic destruction related to the use of a substance intended for a system in place for different purposes and fundamental to the body’s survival and the gradual awareness of consciousness.

Of any kind, dust released in the respiratory ways, attacks the nostrils’ mucous membranes to nasal septum perforation. In nature there are no substances that are born and grow to be treated through the nose. The smell in our nostrils comes in a volatile and gradual form from the cell recipients placed in and under the epithelium, a tissue that extends deep into the cavity nose, are retained and selected. Smell is the sense that sends the strongest signals related to danger, survival and reproduction to the brain. In the evolutionary scale, the olfactory system is the oldest  sensory organ. It’s the first sense to develop in a newborn child. Smell brings the infant to the mother’s womb and triggers the instinct to suck. If the mother does not have the right scent, the breast may be rejected during breastfeeding and consequently difficulties in establishing the link between the two. The nose’s mucous membranes are the reflex zones of the reproductive organs. Each nostril is a reflection of the area through which you enter directly in contact with the sexual and the adrenal gland’s endocrine system. There are seven endocrine glands and each one is scientifically associated with human beings’ main nerve centers. Every nerve center is an asset in which particles of energy flow. In traditional indian physiology, these points are called Chakras – sanskrit: wheel, plexus, vortex. From the systemic point of view the chakra is a vital function of a living system, structured in levels. The system is a set of entities related to each other through reciprocal relations visible or defined by their observer. The characteristic of a system is the overall balance that is created between the individual parts that constitute it.

Everyone has his own Art of the Spirit, whose completeness and perfection depend on the activation and spiritual evolution of the etheric particles of our physical body.

The body is a coordinated system of energy fields consisting of ethereal particles, tiny entities that when activated, transmit and emit energy vibrations and waves of more or less strength. Each point of energy or chakra, refers to a particular field of sensory and extrasensory perceptions. Chakras are points of connection between a body and another inside a human being. Each chakra is an aspect of consciousness, a sphere of energy that interacts with the physical body through the two channels of the nervous and endocrine systems. Consciousness is all that you can experience. Perceptions, senses, mental processes, ways of being, occurring within consciousness. It is an energy system made of different density and energy levels in a state of flux and movement. When energy flows freely between chakras, you can experience wholeness. When it crashes, you feel the tension that manifests as a symptom. The flow of energy into consciousness is determined by chakras. When a human being reaches maturity, chakras are developed and each represents the psychological patterns that are evolving in an individual’s life. One usually reacts to unpleasant experiences by blocking feeling and thereby preventing a large part of our natural energy flowing. Underdeveloped  chakras send a faint light, and their ethereal particles move slowly, forming just enough of a vortex  for the transmission of force and nothing more; in individuals more consciously developed, chakras pulsate and shine bright light, like little suns . Their size ranges from five to fifteen centimeters in diameter. In infants they are made up of small circles, as wide as a bronze coin, hard disks that move and are just slightly brighter.  There are seven chakras. The first five are directly tied to the five senses. The sixth and seventh chakra perceive extra-sensory emotions. What is recognized as the first chakra is called Muladhara, chakra of the Earth, from the two sanskrit words Mula (root) and Addhara (support, base). Situated in the coccygeal area of the sacred plexus, precisely between the genitals organs and the anal orifice, represents our roots and connection to traditional family beliefs that are  formation’s basic sense of identity and belonging to a group of people in a given place. The Muladhara is the transcendental basis of all that exists in nature and is home to vital life energy called Kundalini Shakti. Represented in the East by a snake, Kundalini Shakti resides in the first chakra and through the activation energy of the same, he wakes up rising up the spine from the sacrum, through all the chakras to the seventh, the “Sahasrara “, chakra of empathy. Purple and situated on the top of the head, the seventh chakra relates to the inner light, thought and corresponds to the pineal gland.

From Muladhara (I chakra), the Sahasrara (seventh chakra), develop the Svadhistana, chakra of water and sensuous sweetness, orange, linked to the sense of taste and place up to the belly; the Manipura, chakra of fire and power, yellow, tied to view and seat height of the solar plexus; the Anhahata, chakra of the air and love, green, tied to the touch and situated at the heart; Vishuddha, chakra throat and abundance, blue, related hearing, placed at the base of the throat; Ajna, chakra of awareness or third eye, indigo, located between the eyes, at the height of the forehead and tied to extra-sensory perceptions.

The first chakra, Muladhara, chakra of the Earth or the sacred tree of life is the energy center sensory related to smell. The only one of the five anatomical senses, to send information directly to the cerebral cortex without passing an essential structure of our brain system: the thalamus. Thalamus is the guardian of our brain. Located below the cerebral cortex, it selects all the impulses from the receptors belonging to four of the five senses: sight, hearing, touch and taste, and then transmit them to the cerebral cortex so that the person is aware. The thalamus learns from every experience. The smell is beyond the thalamus control and the alter ego. Information from smells goes directly to the limbic system and from there to the cerebral cortex. So it is the only physical sense that can not be affected during the learning process of the data coming from the outside.

The olfactory information transmitted from the apparatus directly to the limbic system, reaches the pineal gland. The pineal gland or brain’s shaman, governs the central nervous system. It’s a small organ located in the midbrain that transforms and transmits. Through receptor’s perception located in the retina of the eye, this gland produces the hormones serotonin and melatonin. Light creates serotonin’s production. The absence of light begins to produce melatonin most likely while the body is asleep . After about four hours of sleep we enter the deep phase in which lucid dreaming occurs. The lucid dream is only possible if the pineal gland has sufficient time to make melatonin in pinealina. The pinealina is a hallucinogenic substance that the unconscious uses to allow the brain to communicate with the deeper spheres. Distributed throughout the cerebral cortex while sleeping, active neurons operate in a reverse process, allowing the subconscious mind to speak to the conscious mind. This opens the door to the subconscious, allowing body experiences, prophetic visions in the timeline and higher levels of awareness. Before awakening and returning to the body, pinealina is naturally reabsorbed. The pineal gland, is the seventh chakra, the Sahasrara chakra and allows the connection of empathy with all endocrine and exocrine glands that secrete chemicals into the body, generating the sensations and emotions felt.

The first chakra, chakra of smell, corresponds to the endocrine adrenal glands. Those glands that secrete adrenaline, the hormone that activates when we feel threatened. The element connected to the first chakra is the Earth and essentially symbolizes the relationship of the person with his roots and sense of belonging to a particular place and context. In consciousness, the Muladhara is associated with the amount of physical energy and the will to live in physical reality. Concerning the areas of safety, survival, material existence and monetary, feeling safe and secure. It is the survival instinct, the ability to feel at home and being present in the here and now. Of the seven chakras, is the denser vortex, the subject and represents beginning, birth, origin.

The lack of balance in the first chakra, manifests in form of tension, anxiety, fear. Depending on the level of fear felt, the adrenal glands secrete varying amounts of adrenaline. When fear is not sensed and resolved on an emotional level, the unconscious panic attacks happen and therefore the alarm message is not caught, it is transferred and transformed into disease characteristics of the system to make the basal chakra malfunction. Anxiety, panic attacks, arthritis, osteoporosis, lymphoma, cystitis, colds, sinusitis, anosmia (loss of smell), prostate and body parts are controlled by the sacral plexus (Muladhara / chakra baseline) such as the: legs, knees, feet, kidneys, urethras bladder and nose. In varying degrees of intensity, blocking the first chakra is synonymous with fear. In today’s society, not only is it unseemly to feel it, but it is certainly externally needed. We have learned to mask it, using instruments linked increasingly to image and image removal perception. Creating a mainly optical world, erases the perception of pain and the subsequent play of sensory stimuli.

Fear is the feeling that saves our lives. The body is programmed to feel fear, pain and pleasure. Facing fear is the way to solve the pain and we remember it to reach a higher level of consciousness. We store it to learn how to distinguish and thus avoid a particular source of suffering. Regardless of the chemical composition of substances that we devote to the nose, their first action is to anesthetize and gradually destroy the body’s receptors in the nasal septum. Doing so damages the proper functioning of the adrenal glands, releases adrenaline, the hormone that allows us to promptly address the danger. The direct transmission of the olfactory cortex, also affects the pineal gland, creating dysfunction between the rhythms that regulate sleep, waking and subsequent pinealina secretion. Breathing is the starting point in the evolution of every living being. The base from which physical and cognitive paths are developed. We are atrophying the sense of smell because it is the only one to provide immediate feelings and is not misleading. Smell is the sense that evokes the deepest emotions unleashed by memories. Courage to remember is the basic principle  by which consciousness activates. By canceling smell’s perception, we anesthetize memory and inhibit conscience. We prohibit the brain from learning and memorizing. Which we need to feel pain and to grow. We sniff for fear of remembering. As communication tools in use today, primarily through images and thoughts, act by manipulating mass consciousness, drugs and substances present, as well as drugs such as psychiatric drugs, are essentially aimed to flatten emotions in the perception of suffering and insidiously spread among those who are afraid to face pain.

Ottavia Massimo

SOURCES

– University of Rome Tor Vergata

– J. V. (Ed.) Primary cosmetic surgeon – Hospital Osvaldo Cruz, Sao Paulo – Brazil

– Experiments in the perception during the consumption of psychoactive substances of natural origin

– Experiments in the perception during the consumption of psychoactive substances chemically synthesized

– Studies on samples of individuals between thirteen and sixty years,in relation to use of substances taken through the nose and related behaviors

– Study of the perception and the environment in relation to meditative paths in Thailand, Burma, Shry Lanka, India.