Irredenta - O felix culpa quae talem

Abstract

About LoveAs is the case with the heroes of battles forgotten in time, this is nothing more than the fool who went to fight with his eyes closed, one day the brave, the next the idiot who cries over everything. Once romantics taught us of love's feats, tireless struggles, and incessant days of battle and nights of mourning when this was the most valuable reason to live and even to die; it was venerated, and in its name many poetic monuments were erected that are now nothing more than words, beautiful and distant from a consumerist world that has no respect for this being. Now love, like everything essential for our survival, has become just another product, where the currency of exchange is the body, which is trafficked as if it were the inferior accessory of this thinking head that calculates but does not connect with the heart to feel; we outrage it, we mistreat it because we forgot that it was meant to love, not just for instant pleasure like the coffee, the chocolate, and even lunch: "shake, stir, and done," because loving has become a foolish thing, for incurable depressives and schoolgirls, over time we have self-prohibited ourselves from loving, falling in love, or finding love in our own body to avoid appearing fragile in a world where feelings of nobility, charity, compassion, and above all love, make us vulnerable beings.