Nebraska and Iowa

Destination Unknown

June 24-25, 2019

Trigger warning: if you are suffering from depression, suicidal thoughts or simply hate everyone and everything around you, read this post at your own risk.

Driving through Nebraska and Iowa drained my soul. Maybe not even in a bad way, I probably needed it to let out a few of those demons I do not even hate that much anymore. A never ending parade of blue sky and green land simply deactivated me and, in addition to the lack of proper sleep with my constant ups and downs, I broke down. Can you be a human being who thinks about death on a daily basis without being depressed? Many think it is impossible, that there must be some sort of mental illness behind it, causing unbalances on a mental level and whatsoever, but after years and years of research, therapies and experimentations, I am confident to say you can. I apologize in advance if this post will cause some distress but hey, deal with it or leave.

First things first, it is not easy to actually finally open up about it, but considering I am a nobody in front of a computer screen, yes I feel a little ashamed, but not even that much. I am not even looking for any sort of understanding, pity, sympathy, whatever really. This is my place and I can use it however I want.

What I have been dealing with since a very young age is not a disease nor some weird form of dysfunctional part belonging to the emotional sphere, it is just who I am. We all have monsters hiding underneath our skin (not literally) — sometimes it’s anxiety, or depression, or BPD, or PTSD, OCD, secrets, traumas, past events, and whatsoever. But my monster is not a monster, it’s just… me. I could try and explain how I feel on a day-to-day basis, or even hour-to-hour, but it would not make much sense, and most of all, it is always changing. “I am moody” we say, and yeah, let’s stick to that. Although some days are better than others. You wake up and you are ok, you do your things, you even interact with other people, and others are just a no. Like no. For real.

What I do not absolutely want to pass with this post, is the message that all this could be the consequence of some sort of recurring trauma, or all due to past events perpetrating through time. No. Mother, I know you may be reading this so stop with whatever you may be thinking. Realizing you are NOT ONLY the result of what happened in your life and in your past is a very big step to take. Because at a certain point in life, it is YOUR responsibility to take action, and either react or just succumb to whatever has been going on, supporting you or taking you down. In any case, that sense of guilt, of impotence, of unworthiness, of being the victim, of not having the possibility to escape the current situation, yadda yadda, all this has to stop. I made it stop and I started researching. I understood why I have specific thoughts, why I cope with emotions with binge sessions (of any kind as of right now) and, most of all, I learned to accept myself with flaws and all.

Having suicidal thoughts does not always mean you are depressed. Thinking of ending this momentary situation on Earth does not always mean you are suffering from pains inflicted by others, or that you are seeking for attention, or that you have a mental illness that has to be cured, or that you hate yourself, someone else, your life, your past, your traumas, your whatever. Sometimes you are totally fine, even content at days, but you are simply aware of the fact that you may totally be a human being that does not completely accept this mortal condition, and being a mortal sucks more than anything else in the whole world, so much so that you start wondering, imagining, picturing what it would be like to not be around.

Oh well, once you drop the bomb it’s kind of annoying to deal with people’s reactions so feel free to judge without necessarily reaching out with whatever messages or advice you may have. Just keep in mind that whatever you or we are going through, doctors can misdiagnose, medications are not always necessary, some therapists do not know shit and they simply want your money, family is not always to be blamed, friends neither, and society simply sucks. Last but not least, if you realized that you may resemble whomever I tried to describe above, welcome to the club. You’ll end up comforting others, reassuring them that you’re fine, that no, you are not going to cut your wrists, swallow pills or jump off that balcony, or something. And by the way, all this is simply weird and confusing and exhausting at the same time because you are retracing thoughts you actually had, and the discomfort you are feeling right now is normal. Again, deal with it.

Wow, who would have thought Nebraska and Iowa would have done this to me? Ha. I guess I should have seen it coming while absorbing the nothingness around me for miles and miles, and after passing the border between the two states, the radio in Iowa started blasting rock and metal music like there is no tomorrow, finally ditching the country music radio stations that, for whatever reason, always have receptions, along with the Christian Music ones. I mean. Ok but …no. Music apparently is my actual true and real therapist. I’ve been to therapists that simply cannot help. No hard feelings guys, you simply cannot. I’ve always denied permission to offer me medications. I know how those work and… they don’t. I mean, for me. I’m not saying you all taking medications should ditch them, but talking for myself, no thank you. I’ll pass. I see how things affect me, things like …actual things, but also people, situations, emotions, food, drinks, books, anything. I am a constantly open lab, I am experimenting on myself and I am learning something new every day, and I am actually glad I can do it.

With all this experimenting, well, I learned. I learned that I am in part my emotions and in part I am not, but what I feel and think in particular moments, are not necessarily real or reality. My perceptions can at times be deviated and may be “capturing” things in the wrong way, so I simply have to be patient and observe. I learned to check facts, to study, to do research and learn more. But most importantly, I learned I’m not “the only person with these things in mind” just like Chester used to sing.

This thing I am doing, traveling without a fixed destination is a clear representation of who I am, of what I am capable of doing, and how I deal with things. I needed it to remind myself that yes, I may have to heal from some pain I endured, yes I may have to face some thoughts I always tried to ignore, as well as accepting that other thoughts I had before are TO ME, simply normal, and NO ONE has the “power” to be labelled as “guilty” for this. Not my family, not my friends, nor other humans, not even society (wait, I am really saying this? Yea, ahh emm) it is just how it is. Every day is different, every day I AM different, and I am still here, I am still living, and at this point, I am simply appreciating the fact that, at least, I realized this world is worth living in. This Earth is a planet worth staying on for as long as we can. And beware of this: I may be saying something completely different in like, a minute or two, but that will just go away, because the truth is that I like this place, in its whole. It’s just that humans are kind of a pain in the butt most of the time.

Last but not least I will conclude with saying that Edwin Schneidman, author of Autopsy of a Suicidal Mind (read it!), notes how there are indeed cases of individuals having spontaneous suicidal thoughts, without depression. Statistics say that “90% of people who die by suicide have a diagnosable mental illness” which leaves a gap of at least 10% of people who dies by suicide, as individuals who are not depressed or having mental illness. You can still think of letting your body sink into the dark waters of the Reservoir next to Brookline, or jumping off the balcony of that seventh floor apartment in West Hollywood. You can still think of swallowing all those painkillers knowing their side effects and consequences of overdosing with them in L.A. You can still see yourself hitting that wall with the car in Italy or crossing the highway while there’s a red light for pedestrians in Melbourne. You can. Let that thought travel through your mind and don’t lock it up. Let it flow. Don’t choke it or it will suffocate you. Embrace it, accept it, let it go.

The first time I thought about death and willing to die I was around 7 years old. I know this for sure because I read it on my first “secret diary” as we used to call it, or journal, that I found and took with me to L.A. last summer. Eye opening. This is who I am, who I was and who I will always be, and I am OK with it. Thank you Nebraska and Iowa for reminding me that. Sorry folks for not having taken pictures of these two States, which I am certain they have cute little areas to be spotted, but I guess it was more important to me, at this point, to take care of this “situation” first. Off to Illinois. See you in Chicago where I’ll be reporting on less serious matters. Cheers.

If you are suicidal, depressed, dealing with any sort of illness and need help, look for your local organization or hospital. A quick google research will open up several possibilities. USE IT.

Isolation, trauma and the O.A.

Reviews, Tv Series

I think I explained this already: my “reviews” are considered alternative because I do not focus on judging a work of art (any kind of art!) by using specific knowledge or terminology, but by simply following the train of thoughts that the vision of that artwork creates in my brain, if it does. I do not consider myself an expert in anything, probably nothing at all. I know a tiny bit of many things, but I do not excel in a specific matter, and that may be one of the reasons why I could never find “my way”. Why am I even saying this? Because the idea of writing about The OA, a Netflix series that was released almost a year ago, has been moving around for quite a while; I had this feeling that I had to make up my mind before writing about it, and then I may be able to say something coherent. I finally realized I just needed to accept something that I was too blind (or too proud?) to see.

giphy-downsized-largeThe OA received several contrasting comments and opinions among the experts. While I personally loved it, I can understand that the critics might be a little reluctant in showing appreciation when it is a little hard to see through, a little deeper, a story that makes no sense to the Western culture. Moreover, both plot and style are entwined, the story pops like a bubble during the season finale, leaving the spectators speechless, and those charming dance moves are definitely not accepted, or simply not understood, by many: too spiritual, too superficial, too …stupid.

05AO-master768As always, when a TV series catches my eye (I mean, literally), it is because of something they say, a song from the soundtrack or some other features I can relate to, easily. It is in the very first episode that the protagonist, the OA, says “It’s not really a measure of mental health to be well-adjusted in a society that’s very sick,” referring to an outburst of violence of one of her friends. For instance, violence, pain, isolation and trauma, not only suffered by the OA, but by other people as well (spectators too?) seem to be the “leitmotivs” of the whole story, making it more relatable to a more general public, well at least more to me. When you’re trained to find allegories, symbols, metaphors, (I was a student of literature for a long time, after all!) it is a little easier to go further, to look for what is hidden behind the written words because the author might have wanted to say something, although not explicitly. What I wanted to see in this case is how, by using scenes that to most are normal fiction-based images, a message of freedom, an open door from isolation, had to be cautiously portrayed: the last episode is about high school students getting assaulted while trapped in their glass-walled cafeteria, just like Prairie -the OA, was trapped in her blindness first, and glass-walled cage later. Her story, whether made up -as they want us to believe-, or not, got her through her own imprisonment, until she freed herself and the students, by teaching them a sense of community, sharing what I interpreted as ancient traditions, made of dance moves and spiritual calling: “I survived because I wasn’t alone”. (Damn, I am screwed.)

lonely20161013_630_630That was the moment when I opened my eyes. Social isolation is real. When a person starts avoiding social interaction well, as they say, the “shit has hit the fan”, but being an introvert, it may not be as clear as it should be. Have you ever stopped to think about this? Have you ever had a friend denying offers to go out, even to just have coffee and not necessarily to go partying all night long? Have you ever thought of a friend “what a bitch” for canceling last minute on you? Have you? Do not feel bad (yet). It’s ok. As far as you’re concerned, it is not a big deal. When does this go from “not being in the mood” to isolation? When this denial, this resistance, this rejection of interaction persists for a longer time than usual, and it is well often a consequence of a period spent in a depressive state, sometimes caused by a sense of shame, or low self-worth (rings a bell!). What many do not understand is that there are several factors that can impair social skills leading to isolation, and it is not always by choice.

giphyPrairie survived because she was not alone. When you spend most of your time all by yourself though, you get used to be alone. It only takes time to realize that eventually being alone sucks. You start avoiding not only social interaction but professional events as well. You make up excuses and you miss that chance to meet new people, new opportunities, turning your isolation into a vicious circle of worthlessness. You register to be a reporter for a cultural festival where you really want to interview people who are successful, who made of their passions their job, and their daily inspiration, to potentially stumble upon people you used to know, to breathe fresh air and walk down the crowded roads of the historical center of a town -that you used to know, but -you- are no longer who you used to know or used to be. You choose your aloneness over opportunity. You choose vacuum over fullness. Withdrawal over moving forward. You choose to let go even of all those things you may want to keep…

I watched The OA when something was coming down the pike but it was not so evident yet. Not to me, even less to others. It definitely takes a while for me to digest things, and this took almost a year, but in my defense I can say that… well, no need to defend myself. These days, everybody is focusing on mental health, depression, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts and actual successful performances. It is not that common to hear someone talk about isolation and alienation, when I believe it is actually part of the same game. While missing all the events and the various opportunity I may have, I did not want to miss the chance to talk about it. Even if not in person, not to someone, and not actually -talking-!

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The O.A.

Genre: they want to call it “science fiction, supernatural drama”
Created byBrit MarlingZal Batmanglij
StarringBrit MarlingEmory CohenScott WilsonPhyllis SmithAlice KrigePatrick GibsonBrendan Meyer
Watched onNetflix 
One Season, Eight Episodes binge watched in: One day.

A Russian blind special girl gets adopted by an elderly American couple. They rename her Prairie. When she turns 20 she runs away from home to go to NYC because she believes her dreams showing her father looking for her in the city. She lives homeless for a while playing the violin on the streets, with a song her father taught her when she was a child hoping he would come to her. Instead she catches the attention of a doctor who offers her a place to stay if she agrees to be a part of a research about NDE, near death experiences. She leaves with him but he keeps her into a glass walled cage in the basement of his house. For seven years, she is held captive with four other people while being drowned and revived many times. They do not realize this is happening until she teaches each one of the prisoners a move to a five part dance ritual that can help open a portal to bring people back to life or heal them. Once the doctor has proof there is life after death he gets rid of Prairie, and she finds herself stranded somewhere. Her adoptive parents recognize her and take her back home. She does not socialize much, but she befriends some high schoolers with troubled backgrounds and convinces them to meet so she can tell them her story. Here she starts calling herself the OA, the Original Angel, and she begins teaching them the dance movements so she can open the portal and save the remaining prisoners. One day there is a shooting at the high school. While the disciples do the dance moves, the OA gets shot and the season ends with a collection of books the police found under her bed with titles referring to her story, making it all appear to be made up. Like I said, alienation/isolation and trauma seem to be the foundation of this story where, in order to understand, you have to believe reality is not what it looks like. Your mind has to be wide open, your mentality has to be flexible, believe it or not, this may be just another version of the truth, a multi-faceted reality nobody knows at its whole. Crazy? Maybe. Trustworthy? Possibly. Fascinating? Definitely. 

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The day part of me died

Haircut Madness

Everybody has monsters inside pushing from underneath our skin, or that’s what we used to sing along with you. These demons we learned to dance with, like you did sing. We were on the verge, one step closer, about to break, we all wanted to heal, to feel, to find somewhere we belong… when you guys were saying that you knew you were not the only people with those things in mind, we felt it, we knew back then that someone else could finally understand.

Chester Bennington of Linkin Park Portrait SessionI could write my whole biography by just quoting every single word of your songs, I do too have memories tattooed upon my soul (DBS). I still cannot believe that the voice I kept hearing in the back of my head in those dark days, your voice, is now gone. And I hate that I cannot see what I am writing because my mind is foggy and my eyes are casting tears. Those tears I could hide day after day, sitting in my room, listening to you. Over and over. But now I just can’t hold them in anymore. No. Not today. I can’t.

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I remember those days I was being laughed at because I was listening to “that kind of music”. Can’t you hear they’re just shouting? How can you call this music at all? And I explained to those who could understand, that there was more, that you knew better, that you were… well, couldn’t you just sense it? And this is how I ended those explanations, because you can understand only if you feel it too. Even my mother eventually got to know you. Chester Bennington and the Linkin Park are part of my soul, that part of me that I wish I could say “won’t go away” but instead, today has died.

8484c67d8c6442e8858d143a070ae09fI was in high school when a new friend, who crossed my path, made me listen to this brand new American band: the Linkin Park. We spent hours sitting in his car listening to their songs on repeat, and the one I always wanted him to play first was “Crawling”. Why? He asked. This is how I feel, I thought back then, until each and every word of all the other songs, one after another, one album after the other, started sinking in my brain, feeding my soul, healing my wounds, leaving only scars, and above all, making me feel I was not alone. Because you were there. But you are not anymore.

450845802I want to write more, and more, but nothing makes sense now. I keep picturing you in that room, eaten alive by those thoughts you tried, we try, to fight every day. But we are, were, doing it thanks to you. We have semicolons spread all over, through the lines of the book of our life, because of you; because where there could be periods, ending it all, we took a break, we breathed, we shouted, and then we kept going. Why you decided to write that period though, to end it all, we will never know until we are here. And it hurts. Like hell. It hurts to know those thoughts were stronger than you, because now we think they could be stronger than us too. They took you, and Chris, and all the others like you, like us, and if there is just one little positive side of this fuc*ing coin is that, as of right now, we hate those thoughts even more. We hate they took you from us, you let them take you instead of fighting them, again, again, and again. We wanted to fight them with you. And now you’re gone. Just gone.

Were there signs we ignored? And we’re angry, and we should be, it’s not fair… You said this, right? You said it. It is not fair. Who is going to catch us when we fall? I can’t think straight, and I do not even know why I am doing this because, after all, I am just talking to myself. In front of a screen. The voice bouncing back is not yours, anymore. You’re gone. That part of me is gone. The one screaming that I wanted to heal, although these wounds will never heal, and that I was paranoid, but your paranoia was probably worse, saying I were numb, that I wanted to be more like me, I wanted to be in the energy, not with the enemy, is gone… I did not want to let it go, let it go, let. it. go. But you let it go.

“The sound, of your voice, painted on my memories, even if you’re not with me, I’m with you” kept me alive. I wish screaming it all out, all that pain, the frustration, would have kept you alive too. Inside crying “save me now”…

Like a punch in the face, this hits hard.

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I know I’ll be with you soon, we all go back to the whole, where everything started, the energy of our souls, and I’ll be looking forward to that moment. I’ll kick your energy’s ass because how could you? Leaving us here, all alone again, without a light? But you know? You taught us better. So after that, I’ll hug you so tight, that we won’t be the one to leave this, in pieces. You are gone, while we are here thanks to you, because of you. We love you Chester, always will, and if you’re still asking who cares if one more light goes out? Well I do. Too.

You were that foundation
Never gonna be another one, no.
I followed, so taken
So conditioned I could never let go
Then sorrow, then sickness
Then the shock when you flip it on me
So hollow, so vicious
So afraid I couldn’t let myself see
That I could never be held
Back or up no, I’ll hold myself
Check the rep, yep you know mine well
Forget the rest let them know my hell
There and back yet my soul ain’t sell
Kept respect up, the best they fell,
Let the rest be the tale they tell
That I was there saying…
In these promises broken
Deep below
Each word gets lost in the echo
So one last lie I can see through
This time I finally let you
Go, go, go.

Test my will, test my heart
Let me tell you how the odds gonna stack up
Y’all go hard, I go smart
How’s that working out for y’all in the back, huh?
I’ve seen that frustration
Been crossed and lost and told “No”
And I’ve come back unshaken
Let down and lived and let go
So you can let it be known
I don’t hold back, I hold my own
I can’t be mapped, I can’t be cloned
I can’t C-flat, it ain’t my tone
I can’t fall back, I came too far
Hold myself up and love my scars
Let the bells ring wherever they are
‘Cause I was there saying…

No, you can tell ’em all now
I don’t back up, I don’t back down
I don’t fold up, and I don’t bow
I don’t roll over, don’t know how
I don’t care where the enemies are
Can’t be stopped, all I know; go hard
Won’t forget how I got this far
For every time saying…

In these promises broken
Deep below
Each word gets lost in the echo
So one last lie I can see through
This time I finally let you go, go, go.

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“We live in a kingdom of bullsh*t”

Reviews, Tv Series

8966767_origI knew I was in love with this TV-show since episode one. Elliot, the main character, is a genius. I was hooked when at the end of his mental digression he goes “F*ck society” but he responds “nothing” when the doctor asks him “what is wrong?”, as I recognized myself in those words, something I always wanted to scream out loud, to wake people up. Then I remembered that I read somewhere something like “you can’t explain to people something they are not ready to understand”, and I just isolated myself in my world, or almost so, where I could at least relate to a TV-show, feeling less weird. Elliot’s sessions at his shrink‘s are basically the literal representation of what most of us is thinking right now. Or not? I mean, at least we should. I completely lost it during episode nine, when it was clear that his dissociative identity disorder could relate to Fight Club because the Pixies’ Where Is My Mind started to play. I love that song, and at the same time it reminds me of part of my past I do not love as much. Meh.

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Raise your hand if you have ever felt alienated, when you should feel like you belong to society because after all, you are a human being, but you actually feel detached, different, wrong. Although you try to survive, day by day, you cannot find your spot in a world that does not reflect the socially accepted and advertised picture they taught you since your first second on this planet: a beautiful place, where peace reigns and people are allowed to go to war to bring peace to those areas where it is needed. Crazy? yes. Fair? No. Just a big fat lie. A lie they sugarcoated making it sound beautiful to your ears. They made you believe there is no better place than Earth, that life is worth living and if you kill yourself you are automatically sent to hell. Wow. Where is YOUR mind?

humanbarcode

So here is why a TV-show may be interesting for people who felt, or still feel, isolated and different: from a certain point of view, it makes you feel less lonely. Still, you have to keep in mind it is just a show. A fake representation of reality, where characters may actually be telling the truth, hidden behind a magnified distorted rendered version of it, just to let people, and in this case spectators, stay in that bubble someone else has created for us all. Whether you agree with saying “f*ck society” or not, whether you felt different in a world of clones or not, this is a TV-show that is worth a view.

Mr. Robot

Genre: they want to call it “psychological thriller”
Created by: Sam Esmail
StarringRami MalekCarly ChaikinPortia DoubledayMartin WallströmChristian SlaterMichael CristoferStephanie CorneliussenGrace Gummer
Watched on: TV (Xfinity On Demand)
Two Seasons, Twenty-two episodes binge watched in: two weekends.

Elliot (Rami Malek)is a young programmer who works as a cyber-security engineer at Allsafe, a NYC based IT company.  At first he appears to be a typical nerd, until we realize he is constantly debating with a sort of alter ego, dealing with social anxiety disorder, and depression. Elliot’s thought process seems heavily influenced by a distorted representation of reality which makes him become some kind of vigilante hacker by night. This is how he “knows” people he gets in contact with, by hacking their social media profiles gathering information. He eventually gets recruited by a hacker group whose leader is Mr Robot (Christian Slater) with the purpose of destroying one of the biggest and most important companies in the world, E-corp, which is also the main client of Allsafe, in order to cancel the global debt. Trying to fight the demons in his head, using drugs to detach from reality, and having Angela -a long time friend- by his side, Elliot struggles to do what he thinks is needed in a corrupted society he does not fit in. What happens with him, his family members and everyday drama, is left for you to watch and grow fond of. You’re welcome. 

Mr.-Robot-Cast-Promotional-Portraits-for-Season-2

“Is any of it real? I mean, look at this. Look at it! A world built on fantasy. Synthetic emotions in the form of pills. Psychological warfare in the form of advertising. Mind-altering chemicals in the form of… food! Brainwashing seminars in the form of media. Controlled isolated bubbles in the form of social networks. Real? You want to talk about reality? We haven’t lived in anything remotely close to it since the turn of the century. We turned it off, took out the batteries, snacked on a bag of GMOs while we tossed the remnants in the ever-expanding dumpster of the human condition. We live in branded houses trademarked by corporations built on bipolar numbers jumping up and down on digital displays, hypnotizing us into the biggest slumber mankind has ever seen. You have to dig pretty deep, kiddo, before you can find anything real. We live in a kingdom of bullsh*t. A kingdom you’ve lived in for far too long. So don’t tell me about not being real. I’m no less real than the f*cking beef patty in your Big Mac.” Season 1, episode 10.

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Th1rteen R3easons Why and Depression

Reviews, Tv Series

Isn’t it absurd and hilarious how a tv-show can wreak havoc on the teen-age world of the twenty-first century? Ok, no. Wait a second. I know even the Huffington Post talked about it several times and I wanted to publish this post sooner, but when life gets in the way, there is nothing you can do about it. Indeed. Life has nothing to do with tv-shows or movies. Young teens or young adults, who commit suicide, do not decide to end their lives “just because Hannah did so”. The tv-show is based on a book by Jay Asher anyway, how come nobody killed themselves when the book got published? Oh wait, are we saying that teenagers do no read anymore? Hmm. Watching a movie is definitely faster and more up-to-date considering the way our brain and our attention span got shaped with time and technology, but still, do we really want to believe that young people are stupid enough, in 2017, to actually end their lives because of a movie? To put a period and the end of their story just to emulate a character? I honestly doubt it.

636286444919284462-581385395_13 reasons why

Thirteen Reasons Why  may or may not have “something to do” with recent suicides of teenagers, because what lies beneath and what has not been taken into consideration enough, is the so-called depression. I do not even like to call it that way, because most of the times, diagnosed as a mental condition, seen a disease that can be cured, it gets underestimated, passed unnoticed, and people die in their depressed state, without showing any sign of being ill.

Let’s see. Have you ever had the feeling of each and every bone of your body aching because of all those days spent laying in bed, doing nothing? Have you ever forgotten the sound of your voice because you haven’t spoken in weeks? You might have even communicated with your acquaintances, sent them text messages, but you have not actually talked out loud to anyone? Have you ever heard someone say “you are so strong and brave, I wish I were like you” while you were broken in pieces inside, holding them back together with a sort of spiritual duct tape that only God knows how you did it? Have you ever wished you were dead because being alive in this world does not sound that appealing to you anymore, for whatever reason? And now, have you ever wondered, for once in your life, how would it be to be dead? If we turned into energy back to the cosmic state, or if we would simple be eaten by worms while lying six feet under ground? Have you ever thought about suicide? Never? Well, I guess many from either my generation, the previous and the following one would say yes to at least one of these questions, and as far as I’m concerned, depression is not “only” a disease, it is a “way of being”, it is part of your personality, it is rooted in yourself. Boom. Dropped the bomb. Yes. I know, someone got healed. Psychiatrists and co. can help… if you ever started therapy. But then explain to me why the majority of today’s human beings are depressed, suicidal at times, and in general not feeling happy. Content. Satisfied. Glad to be alive. And nobody knows this about them. Go ahead.

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This said, is it really a tv-show’s fault if teens kill themselves? Do movies suggest you for real how to use a knife, or a gun, or pills? I mean, I’ve seen plenty of movies where people were killing or getting killed, and this did not make me a killer. Or a cheater. Or a princess. Or, a suicide. Yet, we want to read that this or that caused somebody else’s decision of liberating themselves from the burden of the mortal condition. Fine, believe what you want, but here’s my review.

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Thirteen Reasons Why

Genre: they want to call it “teen drama”
Based on: Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher
Starring: Dylan Minnette, Katherine Langford, Christian Navarro, Alisha Boe, Brandon Flynn, Justin Prentice, Miles Heizer, Ross Butler, Devin Druid, Amy Hargreaves, Derek Luke, Kate Walsh
Watched on: Netflix
Season One, Thirteen Episodes binge watched in: less than 15 hours

Clay Jensen (Dylan Minnette) is one of the main characters of the story. He finds a box with seven double-sided tapes recorded by Hannah Baker (Katherine Langford), his classmate who committed suicide two weeks prior to this moment. On tape, Hannah talks to specific people in her life, building up a sort of audio journal, or confessional, more like audio letters if we want to say so, explaining the reasons why this person is on tape and why he or she is part of the reasons why she killed herself. Each person who receives the package plays a role in the “game” of these thirteen reasons, thirteen people who are “guilty” in their own way. Twelve recordings are dedicated to her classmates, lovers, abusers, rapers, all of them around her age, but one, the thirteenth is eventually for an adult. Here, is where my attention focused, at the end of a binge watch session that lasted a whole night (it actually started right after lunch time and ended the morning after). This tv-show is not meant to be educational, is not meant to be seen by kids who need to understand what bullying is, what respect is…, to my humble opinion, it should be an eye-opener for adults. The exact same adults you turn to when you’re in danger, when you tell them that something is not right, but you do not know how to express your feelings. And they do not believe you. They minimize the gravity and they release you in a world that is, still, treating you wrong. Exception made for her parents. Olivia, Hannah’s mother, played by the amazing Kate Walsh, is the one who finds her daughter dead. Both parents never realized she was suffering. Most of the times, parents can’t see, and I believe this is what the whole tv-show wants you to ponder on. All the drama, the request for attention, the teen-age useless fights, are secondary. As Antoine de Saint-Exupéry tried to teach us, through his Little Prince’s story “what is essential, is invisible to the eye”; nevertheless a lot of us are still terribly blind.13rw_104_02536r_-_h_2017