Plot – Charity cases? Wanna talk about it?I thought I was immune but I had to change my mind. Crazy dates which go over my imagination! But I survived and wrote something about it, to warn you! Besides, a few more and my album is complete!
[Translation by Lucia Zaccherini]

The problem is not the man. The problem is the beginning of everything! But how can we blame our good Creator? He was alone with his idea and no one to give him advice on how to create men.

Then Adam was created, but was alone. So, let’s give him a partner to keep him company, although perhaps it was better to give him a dog, so it wouldn’t have fucking eaten the apple. That’s right, because the dog would have bitten the snake and Adam would have tested his culinary skills by making God discover a new sauce and today we would have another jar to add to the shelf of the supermarket between the amatriciana and pesto.

But no, God created another human. A woman. And if before he had put two neurons to the man, here, for safety, he puts like a million and then… okay! The apple is eaten and the good Lord throws them both on earth. He works by the sweat. She brings forth children in pain. But excuse me: people have been talking for ages about giving a second chance, while here they get a crazy, divine punishment. What about another stay in Eden? 

So, life goes on for these two poor guys who made a mistake, but let me tell you this: if today we use Ctrl+Alt+Del to delete the crap we write, couldn’t God turn a blind eye to the apple/snake thing? Well, when one is a perfectionist, what can you do?

And then the brilliance of laws, something that still accompanies us into the most sensational global economic disasters! If before there was only one rule, that is Do not eat the apple, now there are ten rules, or better, commandments. Excuse me God, are you doing it on purpose? You may be bored in heaven, but if you concentrated a little bit, you would create a human being worthy of a game of chess, poker and canasta to spend time with, so much that the Las Vegas players and the asylum old folks wouldn’t compare!

And on top of that, these commandments are a toughie! In addition to being ten to remember – and God, I would like to point out that at the time there were no post-it notes or pens, so even here you have been a little naughty – they are not easy to follow! Among other things written on boards without the ability to print them out and distribute them properly. Do you know what leafleting we would have done?

And I would also add that it is rumored that they were written by Moses as well, so there are already two of you working on them, as if it wouldn’t get messy enough!. Then these rules, forgive me Lord, seem to me they are mostly meant to be broken. I mean, we lost with an apple. An apple, for fuck’s sake! How could one not give up to the rest? But not out of malice or spite, I mean: try to remember these laws by heart, especially questionable by mankind that has been equipped with neurons in an unbalanced way: some have a few, so God draw your conclusions, some have thousands and here a Fight Club clash is assured!

In short, all this to say that the reason for so many male charity cases is to be found upstream, but not in the house where our alleged partner or lover has been raised and educated, but up-upstream, at the beginning, when God after having created seas and mountains and having rested, decided to create the human being.

I find it strange that there are no instructions – no commandments, let me be specific – even well carved on tablets, on how to manage Eden and life in general. Maybe the delivery slipped and the snake took advantage of the moment or they were put to another use, thinking they were not that necessary. I mean, in a paradise with loving animals and a woman dressed in a single fig leaf, well… maybe I would have put them aside, too.

Having said that, over the years there has been the so-called evolution of man and we have learned many things. We have been doing stupid things such as slaughtering half the population in the name of love, religion and freedom and here I won’t dwell on details because it makes my blood boil and want to unleash a truckload of curses for how large can be our stupidity, but we have never stopped.

Arranged marriages.
Shotgun marriages.
Marriages, my ass!
He’s with her. She’s with him. Then he’s with him and she’s with her.

There were times when being a gay or a lesbian was normal, maybe even too normal. Then trends change – not talking about clothes – and people who love the same sex are punished or killed. Are we serious? And then there are the relationships that if until a few decades before lasted – maybe – for true love or otherwise chemistry, complicity, ability to love, understanding that relationships should be cared for as a house in continuous renovation, then comes the time when, even before being almost decimated by a virus, we find ourselves with virtual relationships where if a person disappears is normal and we have to be okay with it. And hold on, if we try to look for him/her we aren’t fearless or brave, looking for explanations or truths, but we are labeled as stalkers.
It’s the age where you chat and get to know someone and if you ask for coffee in person, it almost sounds like an epithet.
It’s the age where it’s okay to be in a relationship with a partner but also with the entire mansion around them, including the neighboring town.

Then there are the men who belong to my favorite category, the “Charity cases”.
The origin of my choleric inner goddess who shoots on sight like a ruthless Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator 1.
The reason why I stop shaving and relive my parents’s 60s.
Why I will always leave the house, from now on, with a mask to avoid being infected by so much nonsense contained in millions of male molecules.

There are several types, the subcategories are as endless as me being pissed off, but the must-have of the moment is the Luminary of writing, the one who fixes commas, adverbs and the inevitable conjunctive.

Who turns up his nose when you don’t express yourself well verbally. Who shudders when he discovers that you haven’t read the most important authors; and by important we obviously mean those read by him.

Who ends a relation when reading a passage from his favourite book, you even look at him with a puzzled look. You are on the verge of wanting to share an opinion, but no! No! How dare we even disagree? He is the man who doesn’t have to ask. Never.

And who has very clear ideas about relationships with the opposite sex because his motto is “I only get along with those who think like me“. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, at the Pope’s next plenary indulgence we will pray for you because you are hopeless!

And then there is The Tripolar who is a genius, a dreamer, and magnificence all in one. He who writes you messages directly from heaven. He fills you with compliments and emoticons. You talk about passions and trips yet to come. He updates you on his work and how he has created amazing things that he is asked to do from everywhere. He has such a desire to do and create and doesn’t sit still for a moment. And you compliment him and tell him the episodes of your life and he encourages you not to give up, to follow your dreams, to not stop believing.

When you ask him if he still has that beautiful Neanderthal beard, he replies by turning over a photo of himself, his best one, and you think Wow! It doesn’t seem true, you’re a bit suspicious and even feel a little bit guilty. You talk about it with your friends and they tell you not to be rash, so you laugh and ask him: «Single or in a complicated relationship?», and he replies: «I’m still married». You start seeing red and in your imagination, you are one of the dragons of Reign of Fire and burn his house down; and when you find out that he even has children, that’s a real kick in the balls. You feel so full of bullshit that you know there is no end to the worst!
You wish you’d seen enough but no, no way! 

Here comes the Ex-boyfriend who finds you out, strolling on the streets. He says hi, he’s happy to see you. He’s getting married and thinking about having a baby. You catch up on old times, you say goodbye and as soon as you get home, you find a message from him where he writes that I miss you you would have liked to receive ten years before. You fucking asshole, now you wake up?

And you reject him, politely and gracefully, I mean, you’re still a lady. And then he sees it as a challenge and he goes off in messages and voicemails and you roll your eyes, even invoking Satan’s intervention to get rid of him and you ignore him, but he insists. He says that you treat him badly and at that point you swear as if there was no saint to pray to or a world outside your window, and all you have left is “social punishment”, the last weapon available to get rid of this piece of jerk. So you click block on like seven different portals and for safety you go living with your parents for a month to avoid that this guy takes the title of stalker of the year ringing at your doorbell!

Tired and disheartened, your heart still whole but pissed off like never before, you live a moment of peace and go out with your girlfriends. You have fun, you go to the gym, you concentrate on your work and even read a couple of books.
Then magically comes The Prince. You’re on the edge as you take another step and I burn you. He doesn’t talk much but says the right things, others wouldn’t make sense even if he said them to another man. Anyway, you give him the benefit of the doubt. He seems educated. He even remembers that Mesopotamia is located between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, but the main thing is that he doesn’t seem to be a pain in the ass.

Wow, you are having an epic moment! You almost have an epiphany of amazement. Rare stuff, ah! And then you find it again the following weekend. Party, beer, selfies, laughter. Not bad at all. You’re easy-going, you respond to his jokes and those of his friends. Then, all of a sudden, the kiss happens. We are still waiting for a proper make-out session since Fifty Shades of Grey and a warm hug is added.

From that day on, you text each other all the time and make calls that last from twenty minutes to an hour and a quarter. A record! It doesn’t seem real, but he is more enthusiastic than you are. The following weekend you find yourselves at dinner. Sushi restaurant. If he runs up the bill you’re ready to take him out with a wooden chopstick smeared with sweet and sour sauce, but he pays and then you get down to chatting as you stroll through downtown and at some point you move on to hot topics.

He talks about sex with great ease, recounting how his last ex was as frigid as a dormant badger. You keep quiet, listen and act cautious. He blames the ex, but maybe she was a real prude, you know. Reasonable doubt applies now. You absorb word by word while enjoying the fresh air and the lights of the shop windows. Surrounded by a special atmosphere, to tell the truth you would like a nice kiss as soon as you spit the gum in the trash a few meters from you.

However, suddenly your inner self pulls chairs and chandeliers to your brain, precisely to the right hemisphere – the one of dreams and creative imagination – when he proposes a beautiful evening of sex and adds You know, I already have a fuckbuddy but she wants something more and I do not. What do you think? and as he turns around, he already sees you 500 meters away, ready to go home and take a shower with Medjugorje holy water given to you by your grandmother, while saying If this doesn’t work, I’ll unleash the seven plagues of Egypt, not even the coronavirus!

But like all times, you shake your head and roll your eyes. You apologize to God for cursing and go to church the next Sunday as you rise from yet another male disappointment of one of the many charity cases you’ve come across. You still think back to the beginning, to the fact that it seems absurd that Adam and Eve were placed in Eden without any instruction. If they had had an instruction manual, they would have read it together and the world would have evolved in a different, better way. But then the left hemisphere of your brain makes you reason and you know that manual would never have come out of paradise anyway, because at the first need to shit, neither Adam nor Eve would have used the fig leaves anymore…

FINE