Vectoria Star / Eng Vr

notebook and a black feather

1897
_ Trento, Northern Italy_ (Verona now)

It is said about a person who has not tasted any kind of torment , that he has a happy soul , a comfortable body, a mind without blemish, and a pure heart that has not tasted any burden or worry. Whoever finds this person for me i will give him treasures that are countless and inexhaustible.

What about childrens ? That innocence, that knows no envy or hatred, on their faces a smile and a laugh that makes the pessimist smile and visits his heart that gentle tickle, that which makes a person smile despite himself in any situation! Even if it is a funeral! .. But, the hearts of children see worry and sadness too , they see it when they desire a toy owned by another rich child, the one whose father has huge sums of money for his prestigious position.

What about that poor kid whose father died in the war, so his mother was forced to leave her home and children to work, perhaps to survive on the warm loaf of bread she sells to the shops, or to clean the homes of the masters and be exposed to insult because of her tattered, worn-out rags, and get racist looks in the middle of a dirty bourgeois society devoid of mercy... We are looking for mercy, yes we are looking for it!

Where is the problem  in easing the conditions or reducing taxes on the poor class? That poor child, does he focus on the letters and numbers he is studying or does he get sick in the cold while he begs people to shine their shoes and wipe them from the mud.. Where is the mercy in your hearts! Do you accept this for your childrens?  with their fat plump bodies and red cheeks from what they eat ,  and throw half of the meal - if not most of it - in the trash, deliberately making it rotten and dirty so that the poor cannot take it, even the dogs are disgusted by it.. Where is mercy ? Where is mercy..

We all know, we all realize that you are not happy, there is no such thing as a happy rich person.. The rich are poor in morals - which he pretends to have - poor in happiness, poor in compassion. As for us, the poor class , we are very rich, we have what you do not have, we have the mercy of God, so let the mercy of man be left to himself.. and let him write his compassionate words - which he pretends - on a piece of paper, and let him ball it up and then stuff it in his butt.

You accuse love by shame, you accuse lovers of being prostitutes, then you humiliate them in the church square and hang them in the name of honor by applying the words of God and the holly book .. The holly book did not say this, and God did not say it, this society.. this society must be burned alive with gasoline!

This policy of intimidation, even if it subdues everyone, will not subjugate me, I am Anastasia Calvin. I swear on my honor. I will live according to my principles and laws. I am the one who will change this society. I am the one who will cleanse your dirty minds that follow the herd method  , twist its tail and it will follow your command.

"What are you composing Dostoevsky's successor?"

A blond young man said, holding two small yellow apples in his right hand, eating one of them, walking with careless, unbalanced and slow steps to the room of the one who shared the same turquoise eyes as him , which they inherited from their father.. His locks tended to be light hazel while hers were golden blonde with some brown hairs..

He threw his body on her bed carelessly, biting his apple then threw the second one to her to catch easily. She took a bite from it while looking at her notebook placed on her simple wooden desk, leaning on it with the elbow of her left hand and fiddling with her ink pen to say in her feminine voice full of enthusiasm and hatred, that hatred that she was transforming into dark words on that notebook.. She held it for society and for the government of her country - the corrupt one as she called it.