The first signs had already been seen when I was in my mother's womb, a narrow, cramped place with little availability of food, without having the freedom to move as I wanted, in what I wanted to do. Here comes the day of birth, my mother pushing on her abdominal as hard as possible, the adequate dilation, and I am undecided whether to continue frequenting those places or change home. In the end, nature wins, when it decides something we are always powerless, and they immediately have to weigh you as if you were a market animal, just purchased: Giovanna the baby is 5.8 kg and was born with the Shirt of Fortune, but ignorance it pushes her to delete this detail, not to let anyone know, after all she is a seventeen-year-old girl, but who will later be decisive for all the things that will happen in my life. She seemed to be happy, indeed perhaps she was, but her manifestation was immediately extinguished by the arrival of my father who smilingly told her: you wanted a boy, this will lead to your ruin. Relatives and friends rushed to see the sacrificial lamb that was crying and the doctor prescribed chamomile, sure that it was post-birth abdominal colic. The grandmother's ingenuity was not long in arriving, but like chamomile and chamomile, the child is hungry, and in the face of every expectation a bottle full of milk arrived, four rations, which ended immediately and appeased my anger, despite the mother having a fifth of breasts, but it didn't help me to be able to breastfeed, and hence great attention in the future towards women with large breasts, hoping that one day someone would be able to give me new emotions. A life as a lucky boy, as a lucky man, as a lucky old man, where in my street I have always found many people, of better people, I have always been jealous of their relationship, always discreet and never intrusive, because they are always the best, mediocre people always ready to want to change, dominate and manage me, but they always remained mediocre, like dwarfs who dream of being giants, but in the end they remain dwarfs, all helpless and unsuccessful. Marking the pace was an exercise I did for a year, when I gave my willingness to do military service, marking time has never been a problem, but I have always preferred to rely on the care of women, from whom I have gained pleasure and teachings., love and passion, lessons and betrayals, and there have been so many, none have ever forgotten me, not even one, because of my loyalty and correctness, without lies, led to do without ever promising. My mother is the woman who brought me into the world, in her genetic role of being the woman who gave birth to me, I was lucky enough to be able to spend only five years with her, this was the maximum time we allowed ourselves, after Our paths have diverged, and at my age I realize that our paths will never cross again. Today I am the author of books and I distribute them all over the world. I received strong sensations from seeing myself on the Japanese price lists and the books sold in YEN, CNY in China, RUP IES in India, and others, places with many people, and I from a small Calabrian suburb I arrived there, without asking myself how it happened, but for one reason only, one reason only, because THIS IS ME
