WE ARE

From my future book: LACES OF DILEMMAS. CROCHET OF LOVE.

WE ARE.

WE ARE born without being asked; some out of the love, others by chance. I was born out of too much love. But that's another story.

Now let's get back to the beginning.

WE ARE...

WE ARE brought almost forcibly into heartless homes, just to be robbed of our souls.

WE ARE at the mercy of those who hold the power; call it what you want... political, social or financial.

WE ARE at the mercy of the higher echelon of political power. Our life is at the fingertips of those who lead us to the border between life and death;

WE are depending of the sick thoughts and opinions of those who judge us and who think that they are divine justice, only because of some social favorable circumstances.

WE ARE again forcibly removed from our houses based on various pretexts, just to be sanctioned. There is a popular saying in my home country in Europe where a father can say to his children :"I brought you to this world, and I can kill you if I want ". But it's NOT always like that. However, it applies only to those who become fathers by chance. They won't love their children thinking that they, the children, are in their way of realizing their dreams. These children have suffered and grew up with the pain of not being enough loved by their own fathers.

But they don't say anything, they don't complain. Never. Because THEY'RE GOOD and know how to forgive.

When was the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror? NO, NOT in the mirror on the wall, but in the mirror of your consciousness. Have you ever heard of the MIRROR of CONSCIOUSNESS?

WE ARE soldiers limited by so many stupid preconceptions and pretensions. WE ARE limited by rights and duties imposed on us by society. WE ARE forever knights of the principles long gone in a illusory society. WE ARE fighters with the proverbial windmills of a war that is not ours and we do not honor it. WE ARE a sad show. Vanity... Illusion... Theater... WE ARE guerrilla fighters in the trenches of the unknown. All of us. Are... All our SOCIETY.

NOT everyone likes the truth, as not everyone understands METAPHORS and PHILOSOPHY.

Oana Stavila

New York, August 11, 2017

Note:

all the pictures belong to me and are taken by me; screenshots which is related, that concern MY LIFE and this unwanted event that took place without my consent, and have direct connection to what happened, are made by me and, I am more than entitled to use them, because I have NOT being asked, nor have I been asked for consent for a whole world to enter with boots in MY PRIVATE LIFE.

also, all the texts on this blog are written by me, where I quoted, I indicated the source, the author and even I put the link where the case and I found something like this. I do not authorize anyone, nor to publish these texts, except the full distribution of the article from here, from my blog, on social media, or, with my explicit consent; neither to be inspired, nor to make films or to write books about my life.

Whoever does this, without my consent, will be sued, according to legal rights.

Anyone wishing to publish a book or make a film about my life is asked to contact me at the email address: oanastavilanewyork@gmail.com, here, or on the social pages, all of which are with my real name.

Din viitoarea mea carte: Dantele de DILEME. Croset de DRAGOSTE.

Suntem. SUNTEM nascuti fara sa fim intrebati. Unii din iubire, altii din intamplare. Eu sunt nascuta din prea multa dragoste. Dar asta este o alta poveste. Acum sa revenim la SUNTEM... SUNTEM adusi (aproape) fortat in case fara inima, doar pentru a ni se lua si noua sufletul. SUNTEM la cheremul celor care detin puterea; numiti-o cum vreti...politica sau financiara! SUNTEM la dispozitia serviciilor. Viata noastra este la indemana celor care ne conduc, la granita dintre viata si moarte, in functie de gandurile sau parerile bolnavicioase ale celor care ne judeca si au impresia ca ei sunt sau pot fi justitia divina, doar fiindca intr-o anumita conjunctura sunt favorizati din punct de vedere social. SUNTEM scosi (la fel de fortat, invocand diverse pretexte) din case, doar pentru a fi sanctionati disciplinar, sau, de ce nu, omorati. Pe principiul " eu te-am facut, eu te omor." Dar nu e intotdeauna asa. Poate unii doar si-au satisfacut unele nevoi fiziologice si asa au ajuns donatori de sperma si, implicit, tati. Da, s-au trezit cu copii. Cu unii pe care nu-i iubesc si care au considerat ca le-au stat in calea progresului. Cu copii neintelesi, mutilati sufleteste de durerea de a nu fi iubiti si acceptati de proprii tati. Dar care nu zic nimic, nu se plang. Niciodata. Cand te-ai privit ultima oara in oglinda? Nu, nu in aia de pe perete. De OGLINDA CONSTIINTEI ai auzit? SUNTEM soldati limitati de atatea preconceptii si pretentii stupide. SUNTEM limita drepturilor si atributiilor pe care le avem sau ni le impune societatea. SUNTEM vesnic cavaleri ai principiilor demult apuse intr-o societate utopica. SUNTEM luptatori cu morile de vant in razboaie care nu ne apartin si care nu ne onoreaza. SUNTEM spectacol trist. Vanitate. Iluzie. Teatru. Desertaciune. SUNTEM luptatori de gherila in transeele necunoscutului. SUNTEM. SUNT. #OanaStavila New York, 08.11.17

Because THEY'RE GOOD and FORGIVING.

Nota:

toate pozele imi apartin si sunt facute de mine; screenshots care privesc viata mea si acest nedorit eveniment care s-a desfasurat si se desfasoara fara acordul meu, si au legatura directa cu ceea ce s-a intamplat, sunt facute de mine si, sunt mai mult decat indreptatita sa le folosesc, deoarece eu NU am fost nici intrebata, nici nu mi s-a cerut acordul pentru ca, o lume intreaga sa intre cu bocancii in viata mea privata.

de asemenea, toate textele de pe acest blog sunt scrise de mine, acolo unde am citat, am indicat sursa, autorul si chiar am pus link unde e cazul si am gasit asa ceva. Nu autorizez pe nimeni, nici sa publice aceste texte, decat distribuirea integrala a articolului de aici, de pe blogul meu, pe paginile de socializare, sau, cu acordul meu explicit; nici sa se inspire, nici sa faca filme sau sa scrie carti despre viata mea.

Cine face asta, fara acordul meu, va fi actionat in instanta, conform drepturilor legale.

Cine doreste sa publice o carte sau sa faca un film despre viata mea, este rugat sa ma contacteze la adresa de email: oanastavilanewyork@gmail.com , aici, sau pe paginile de socializare care, toate sunt cu numele meu real.

From my next book: DILEME Lace. LOVE CROCHET.
 
We are.


WE ARE BORN WITHOUT BEING ASKED. Some out of love, others by chance.

I was born out of too much love. But that's another story. Now back to WE ARE ...


WE ARE BROUGHT (almost) forced into heartless houses, just to take our souls.

WE ARE at the mercy of those in power; call it what you will ... political or financial! WE ARE AVAILABLE TO SERVICES. Our life is within the reach of those who lead us, on the border between life and death, depending on the sick thoughts or opinions of those who judge us and have the impression that they are or can be divine justice, only because in a certain conjuncture they are favored. from a social point of view.

WE ARE taken out (just as forcibly, invoking various pretexts) of houses, only to be disciplined, or, why not, killed. On the principle "I made you, I kill you." But it's not always like that. Maybe some just met some physiological needs and that's how they became sperm donors and, implicitly, fathers. Yes, they woke up with children. With some whom they do not love and who considered that they stood in the way of progress. With misunderstood children, mutilated by the pain of not being loved and accepted by their own fathers. But those who say nothing, do not complain. Never.


When was the last time you looked in the mirror? No, not the one on the wall. Have you heard of the MIRROR OF CONSCIOUSNESS?


WE ARE soldiers limited by so many stupid preconceptions and pretensions.
WE ARE the limit of the rights and attributions that society has or imposes on us.
WE ARE forever knights of the long-gone principles in a utopian society.
WE ARE fighters with windmills in wars that do not belong to us and that do not honor us.
WE ARE A SAD SHOW. Vanity. Illusion. Theater. Desertion.
WE ARE guerrilla fighters in the trenches of the unknown.
WE ARE. I am. OanaStavila

New York, 08.11.17