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Patrick

My name is Patrick. I am 46 years old. They are completely paralyzed. Edema has reduced me to celebrate like that. I'm basically dead weight. One morning a few months ago, the Carabinieri arrived at my house. They had paper in his hands. It was an order of interim measure in prison. The police, when they realized how I have been puzzled. At first they would not arrest me even more. They also called the magistrate, but there was nothing to do. I'm paralyzed, I had to go to jail. So I was taken in weight and loaded onto a lot to prevent it from falling down the stairs. Arrived in the prison of Reggio Calabria, as the infirmary there, I was transported up to what would be my cell. A small room with a cot. Before you settle on that cot Who have put a plastic sheet. A precaution to ensure that I could not move to go in wet, dirty mattress. After I was lying down, the cell door was closed and I was alone. Only in that cell, forced property on that bed. There was no one to help me or just needs to make to change position. No one to help me to drink a glass of water. None. Even the drugs that I have to take regularly, I was given at random. Or even, as often happened, I was given at all. The result was that I fainted several times. Several times I had seizures. Missed by more confused when I woke up, dirtier and more alone than before. Held from the days I spent so paralyzed. Not infrequently, seeing reduced in this state, I felt that I no longer wanted to live. More than once I caught myself thinking how could I be able to call it quits. On the other hand in my state is not easy! The night was worse time. Nobody listened to my requests for help. No one ever came into my cell to ask me how I was and if I needed anything. I'm not ashamed to tell that one evening I was so desperate that I started to cry. I had made the needs and were hours that I waited for someone to help me clean myself. I thought I was crazy. Only the day after an inmate took care of me. Then one morning came into my cell as the judge to interrogate. He looked at me like I was astonished to be reduced. As if he did not know that I was paralyzed. The air was stifling because of the fact that I was not washed for days it changed, so that a prison guard opened the cell window. The questioning did not last long. That judge asked me how could I prove that I was paralyzed. The rest, if not enough for him to see me in that state, could acquire the medical records. After he went away without saying anything. I spent another week inside the cell. Another week of hell. Was getting worse. I began to have creases from bedsores. The pain was excruciating and the strong desire to have an infection. My health, already precarious, weakened by the day. And also my emotional balance I was abbandonando.Un afternoon arrived nurses. They had a lot in his hands. Sack that had brought me in jail, now I was back home. Now I am under house arrest, and I look forward to be judicata. I do not want pity. Neither the state nor to my what I went through. But I decided to tell my story because I think it's fair to know the torture I suffered. Why torture has taken. Every year some
representative institutions has gone, with lots of students in tow, to Auschwitz to commemorate the victims of Nazism. A few kilometers from Rome, there are at least two camps called "Judicial Psychiatric Hospitals." Once known as a criminal lunatic asylums, who guarded prisoners in the throes of mental disorder to order, had committed heinous crimes. The mission of these facilities should be the treatment of those disorders through a rehabilitation program which provided the use of drugs and the use of multidisciplinary staff. In fact, the "patients" were subjected to "shock" and "resting" on the beds or containers, filled with drugs. With the introduction of the law Basaglia, are also abolished criminal asylums, but only formally. Today they are called "judicial psychiatric hospitals" and keep people convicted of murder but not confined in ordinary prisons because "not capable of discernment." A superficial change, because in Montelupo Fiorentino and Aversa, a condition in which these poor wretches live is incredible. In seven to eight cells occupy small, in the midst of their droppings, no hot water. The only cure is practiced in the administration of drugs and the use of restraint in bed. If any hospital is allowed to complain, he received the psychological torture and could spend a lifetime imprisoned in these camps.

Dear Members, get up from your chair, put an end to this mess and avoid wasting public money by going to Germany.

If Someone Has Hiv Do They Get Sick Alot

I've used white phosphorus artillery
of Simcha Leventhal ( veteran corps of artillery, the Israeli army and a founding member of Breaking the Silence )



Il Manifesto, 22 / 01/2009

I served as a gunner in the division M109 Israeli army from 2000 to 2003 and was trained to use weapons that Israel is using Gaza. I know for a fact that the deaths of Palestinian civilians are not an unfortunate accident but a calculated result. The bombs that the Israeli army has used in Gaza kill anyone within 50 meters from the explosion and is likely to injure anyone within 200 meters. Aware of the impact of these weapons, the military establishment prevent their use, even in combat, less than 350 meters away from their soldiers (250 meters if they are soldiers in armored vehicles). Stories and photos from Gaza leaves no room for doubt: The Israeli army has used this white phosphorus bombs, which were part of the arsenal even when I was serving in the army. International law forbids their use in densely populated urban areas due to severe burns that result: the bomb exploded a few tens of meters before reaching the ground, so as to enhance their effects, and sends 116 flaming shards of phosphorus in a ' area of \u200b\u200bmore than 250 meters. During our training, commanders told us not to call these weapons "white phosphorous", but "explosive smoke" because the use of international law prohibiting it. Since the beginning of the raid, I watched the news with anger and dismay. I am appalled by the fact that soldiers My country shoot heavy artillery on a densely populated city, and that use of white phosphorus munitions. Maybe our great writers do not know how these weapons, but you sure know our military hierarchies. 1300 Palestinians have died since the beginning of the attack and more than 5,000 were injured. According to the most optimistic estimates, more than half the Palestinians killed were civilians caught in the crossfire, and hundreds of them were children. Our managers are aware of the consequences of the war strategy on their part, argue cynically that each of those deaths were an unfortunate incidente.Voglio be clear: there has been no accident. Those who choose to use artillery pesante e fosforo bianco in una delle aree urbane più densamente popolate del mondo sanno perfettamente, come anche io sapevo, che molte persone innocenti sono destinate a morire. Poiché conoscevano in anticipo i prevedibili risultati della loro strategia di guerra, le morti civili a Gaza di questo mese non possono essere definite onestamente un disgraziato incidente.Questo mese, ho assistito all'ulteriore erosione della statura morale del mio esercito e della mia società. Una condotta morale richiede che non solo si annunci la propria volontà di non colpire i civili, ma che si adotti una strategia di combattimento conseguente. Usare artiglieria pesante e fosforo bianco in un'area urbana densamente popolata e sostenere poi che i civili sono stati uccisi per error is outrageous and immoral.

Spread this article, especially to those who queued to the chorus of pro-Israel proper operation of self-defense .....

Why was not a war but a deliberate massacre!

Ogame Metall Deuterium

Chiquita .... Chiquita

More than two weeks after our appeal we have still not received any application for adoption for small Chiquita. We look forward, as always, if someone wants to give this cat a home and all the love it deserves and we are sure, will reciprocate.

Error Efo Aeg Lavamat 74900

Sidùn as Gaza

Sunday, January 11 falls on the tenth anniversary of the death of Fabrizio De Andrè.

Everything has been said about him.

on his life, his music, its meanings.

To commemorate Faber, his art and to emphasize one of his greatest teachings, the wickedness of war, so relevant these days, while Israel is carrying out a genocide against the Palestinians in Gaza, I can not help but use one of his the most poignant and beautiful songs, Sidùn.

I hope you and excited to hear that it can always inspire your gestures, your consciousness and your commitment.

"Sidon is the Lebanese city that has given us over the use of the letters of the invention of the glass. I have the image, after the attack suffered by the troops of General Sharon in 1982, as a middle-aged Arab man, dirty, desperate, surely poor, holding up his son from the ground tracks of a tank. (...) The little death that hint at the end of this song, not simplistically be confused with the death of a young child. But must be understood metaphorically as the end of civilization and culture of a small country: Lebanon, Phoenicia, who in his discretion has been perhaps the greatest nurse of the Mediterranean civilization. "(Fabrizio de Andrè )

And here is the Genoa and Italian text:

U mae nininu mæu mælerfe fat au sud'amë of America
My baby fat to the mioil miolabbra soled honey honey

leader Tumu benignude muaèspremmûu teu 'nta maccaia de de stae stae
sweet benign tumor of your mother squeezed nell'afa humid summer summer

and oua de grûmmu blood ouëgee teeth of the laetee euggi of surdatti chen arraggëcu'a scciûmma aa cacciuéi Bucca de bae
and now blood clot milk teeth and ears and eyes of the soldiers mad dogs foaming at the mouth of lambs hunters

Scurr to people to cumm game possible so-'u nu blood sarvaegu gh'à smurtau to Quee doppu u feru gauge in the wound of prixúne ä' nt vacations to Semensi velenusa ä depurtaziún
of chasing people like wild game until the blood has not extinguished the desire and after the iron throat of the knife wounds prigionee the poisonous seeds of the deportation

because of a de Nostru cianûa au meünu peua ciu grows aerbu spica ni mae ni figgeüciao 'nin the ereditæl'è ASCUS
because of our plain from the pier can no longer grow or tree ear or hello baby my son's legacy is hidden

'nte is çittæch'a brux unto brûxainta seia that chin-ae in large study ciaeu de teu feugupe to death-a piccin
in this city, burning down burning in the evening and light a fire in this great for your little death.

Back Of My Heels Achilles Hurt After Football

Solitaire symposium Sunday


Hear that?
and wine you drink from a cup
loner falls in the body as a message of anger
mingles with the blood mestizo who gives life

Hear that?
is in the sweet smoke from the cigarette that you aspire crackles between the fingers
Expands to the lungs, treacherous and refreshing, like any pleasure
makes its way through your doubts and your sighs noon

Light candles that do not spread fragrance
and prepare a meal that will warm with emotion
even a beat of your wings today
air is the oil that we have sealed the flight
remains rooted in the reality of a soldier who rapes a day
Virginity human life is lost for a while '. The language
invades a cavity, is the warm moisture of the meat to give you relief.

Today you speak your dark side, the sweetest
now fights against the bright part of the world, the most brutal.

Poem 'today Without You'

look home ... Plato

His mother we called Joy. A challenge against his fate. She had given birth to three kittens and their owners have thrown out at home. And certainly he had had a house: it was proof his confident attitude and shiny hair. Three sons
whites and blacks, ignorant of the wickedness of the world and eager to live. During the nursing period, Chiquita was behaving like his two brothers and grew well as them.
We started to notice some "strange" in his behavior when he started the weaning approached the food so uncertain and in fact could not eat. We then held under observation and we realized that he had serious problems with balance. It was, as we explained our veterinary medicine, a disease that her mother had passed on during pregnancy. The prognosis is very uncertain. It was even possible to get worse, and the outcome would have been very sad.
But it was not so. Perhaps to help her was the presence of siblings, lively: jump, ran to no end. And Chiquita playing and having fun with them. Slowly but visibly, Chiquita began to improve. And now it's "almost" perfect. His movements are sometimes think that he raised his elbow, but runs and jumps as if nothing had happened. He has a confident, positivo. E ancora non ve l’ho detto. Ma è anche molto bellina: bianca e nera, naturalmente, con una macchietta nera sotto il mento che la rende molto spiritosa. E lei di fatto lo è.
Se dovesse passare la sua vita in un gattile sarebbe un gran peccato, lei che potrebbe riempire la vita di chiunque con la sua allegria e il suo “sorriso”.

Piece Of Food Stuck In Goldfish Mouth

Platone, di Emanuela