I’m back. Well, I just spent a whole bunch of time binge watching shows, and actually, I also invested many hours catching up on movies I could find on Netflix, Hulu, HBO, Amazon Prime Video, any platform really… long story short, I had to be ready for the Golden Globes last night, and oh, I was so ready. Stating the obvious, no matter all the great winners that went up on the stage to thank their family, friends, co-workers, etcetera, I believe the actual winner was the pin everyone was wearing, the one showing the words: time’s up. The winner is not the pin itself, you fools, but the meaning it brings, because yes, the time is up. Time’s up on what? Anything. Anybody. As many posts on the world wide web show now, time’s up on silence, on waiting, on tolerating abuses, on lack of respect, on people of any gender having to say “me too” when someone else finally has the gut to speak up and say: this person has violated me. We are free to say what we need to say.
It is not me, it is you crying. Sobbing at every word spoken last night by either a man or a woman (mostly women though), either on or off stage, winners or not of that Golden Globe’s Night that opens the awards’ season in the entertainment industry. On a side note, artists, or how I call them “people of a certain depth”, already have my respect, so please do not judge me if you’ll notice that I am totally “Hollywood team”. I cheered, I cheer and will always do, always. I had so many haters, so many “grounded” people -as they like to be called- disliking my particular predisposition to support this category and most of all this area of the world that apparently you can either hate or love, no in between. Ugh, who knows. I grew up imagining myself in a different world than my own, surrounding myself with alternative realities portrayed in motion pictures, so I am sorry but I am not sorry for taking a stand with and for them, for liking and sharing the same ideas and ideals.
We are back to black. How? Black is one of my favorite colors. It is considered to be the absence of light, or better, the absorption of light that can no longer be reflected. To me, black is at the same time power, mystery, authority, fear, elegance, formality, death, evil, aggression, sophistication… rebellion. You need black to have depth and variation of hue in any other color. You all other painters over there, do you agree? You do, don’t you? Black is often given a negative connotation. As many said last night, when Natalie Portman and other goddesses of mine started sharing the hashtag #whywewearblack, black is for mourning, for the losses we had since these stories of abuses came to surface. No, to me black is strength, it means being serious when bright cheerful colors need to shut up for just a second. Of course then I need my beloved deep blood red and my relaxing smoke gray… but now is the time for black. This is why I wore black too, last night: I was not mourning, I was celebrating freedom, of speech, of choice, of being.
I won’t talk about the nominees, the winners, the host Seth Meyers who had a tremendous monologue, the series and the movies because these are basically details that turned out to be futile in such a night of revelation, of empowerment and awakening and, hopefully, this will last until it becomes normality. Not a movement, not a revolution. Normality. As for the reviews of movies and series that were competing for this year Hollywood Foreign Press Association’s award we’ll have to wait until Thursday, as the day of Thor is the designated weekday for the Binge Watching Queen’s Alternative Reviews.
…the series finale of a tv show. “Oh come on yo!It’s over, bitch!” Ok, not explicitly like that, this is just because I am going cold turkey after a marathon of five, yes, five, seasons in less than a week, wait, probably three days, of 
Now, for someone like me who does not even trust herself that much, this is a really big issue. People lie all the time. Fine, not all the time, but at least once and more than once, everybody has lied. I mean, I do it too, and most importantly I lie to myself, but uh, not a big deal, yo. (Yo! Lol) Or maybe it is. One thing at a time though. There are different kinds of lies, as well as different degrees of lying. Sometimes we do it unintentionally just because we have been deceived by our own feelings, emotions, perceptions and, at the end of the day, we all have the chance to lie every once in a while. Remember those white lies? Those harmless lies, said to avoid hurting someone’s feelings? How stupid is this now, really? Shouldn’t the truth be told no matter how much it hurts? Weak people! Weak human beings. I want to be a dog. Dogs never lie.
Why am I even talking about lies now? Oh yeah, because I was thinking about trust. How do we build trust if we are aware of the fact that sooner or later, everyone lies? We live in this era when lying comes so easily while hiding behind a smartphone or computer screen!!! People can be fucking someone right next door and tell you on the phone “oh, I’m just reading the Bible, how about you?” and who will ever know? I mean, I would quote both my darling Brendon Urie and Natalie Portman in Closer (2004) when one sings and the other answers to “tell me something true” by saying “
Trust issues can come from two directions, I think: skepticism, which is a healthy attitude, and cynicism, which many consider bad but it is actually pretty useful, and these are the little Santa’s helpers that come into place when trust does not really know where and how to fit in. I think I rely on a mix of both, actually. Skepticism belongs to the ego whereas cynicism rules on my alter-ego, so ok, we got this far. Which personality damages my self-esteem and interferes with this whole issue the most though, is not clear. It will never be. And guess what? It got worse right after I had that amazing idea of changing the way I looked. Go me. I cannot believe that this is all due to a change of appearance. A different hairstyle. Maybe Delilah was right after all. Cutting someone’s hair is basically like ripping off a person’s strength, emotionally speaking. I know. I am totally aware it should not be right, but it is true. And as long as that person staring at me in the mirror does not match with me, myself and I, I will not trust her or anybody else dealing with her. Now. This said, and wrapping it all up, well, happy new year, you reflected image. I wish you all the best, but now give me my personality back, thank you very much.
Along with Natalie Portman in V for Vendetta and Charlize Theron in Mad Max, the recurring image when I stare at myself in the mirror is Britney Spears many years ago. I do not recall what year it was, and I may be too lazy to actually 
In so many ways I am now untouchable. Only those who are not devoured by their own preconceptions get closer to me, and as I got used to my aloneness -not loneliness- it is somewhat funny to try them, watch them, and experiment all this on me. Society makes you and others believe that only with Pantene-looking silky hair you can be attractive and pleasing to the rest, that if your appearance does not stick to the norm (a norm created by whom, exactly?) you are an outcast, a problem to be solved, sometimes a threat. But, if you are a threat, then they will try to belittle you because by saying you are threatening they are giving you power, and people are so sensitive to power or what they believe this power is, that they need to kick you out of the game. Although you were not even playing and you honestly were not even giving a damn about it!
The results of these 
That’s how it started. Or maybe not. There are people that leave their footprints in your life path and they do not even know of how much their presence (or absence) has or had an impact in your existence. Yes, I know, it is a classic. Nevertheless, I like to remind myself that there must be a reason for this coming and going or for that specific thing to happen.
The last few months have been weird and crazy, in a way. Getting back to Italy for the summer had more consequences than expected. I never had surgery in my life until 2014 for example. I never had scars, not “important” ones at least and not so visible. Now I can basically play “connect the dots” with all the scars I have on my body, and this is because I had the last of three surgeries this year, in August, right before I flew back home: Boston. Yes, currently Bean-town is my home and I am a huge fan of that quote that says “home is a feeling, not a place” FYI!