But also Castellammare di Stabia
Rome is an ancestral land that causes me an archaic, ancestral, ancient feeling. A city where I lived for an important period of my life. A city for which I feel a sort of Stendhal syndrome that makes me forget every bad thought.
The Caput Mundi (Capital of the World) that urbi et orbi (To Rome and to the world though the papal blessing) relates to the entire planet, the galactic universe and the remote cosmos for its creative magnificence, for the magnetic and telluric power it evokes through its seven hills.
A city that today is spiritually gripped by long-running dark powers from the Vatican to all the great institutions that revolve around it. Apparently autonomous institutions such as the palaces of power of the Italian state.
Castellammare di Stabia, on the other hand, is a nice, somewhat sticky situation since it is the city that was my birthplace and in which I poured a lot of emotion into my life.
Because Castellammare di Stabia is a paradise lost ruined by idiots. As an old narration of 1600 AD says which tells of a dialogue between Jesus and God where the first spoke: “My Father, you have created a paradise on earth” “No my son the Stabiesi are staying there“.
Castellammare is an ancient city, rich in history that dates back even before the Romans: to the Osce populations.
Then came the Roman foundation of Stabiae and its patrician villas where Pliny Seniore, a close friend of Cicero, lived and died. Here was the famous explosion of the late Monte Somma, today called Vesuvius, that magmatic eruption of 79 AD. which also covered the merchant town of Pompeii.
Castellammare di Stabia is a city rich in natural resources such as the beauty of a concentration of 28 mineral water springs. Each with spiritual and magnetic ties in the area that have transformed it into a work of art. Like the temples dedicated to Apollo and Diana that were then hidden by the construction of churches which, over the centuries, have replaced pagan cults with the Catholic one.
A city nestled between the Sarno river, the internal countryside and the Neapolitan coast. A city on the slopes of Mount Faito in the centre of the mountain range of the Lattari mountains that arch over the entire Sorrento peninsula up to Capri.
A city famous for its thermal tradition, already known by the Roman patricians, and for the shipbuilding that dates back to the Maritime Republic of Amalfi. Famous boats such as the “Amerigo Vespucci” were built here, that superb training ship of the Italian navy that makes us so proud.
I have been volunteering for more than 30 years in my town, since the tender age of my 13 years, with the hope of improving and enhancing the city of Castellammare di Stabia but my efforts have been in vain.
My generation failed because it was made up of young people who emigrated elsewhere in Italy and abroad to find their own personal fulfilment. Very few of that generation of the 90s remained in the territory. A history of failures inherited from previous generations who have not been able to pass on the reins of power to the next active generation.
Not to mention local dark powers that seek and have always tried to control the local government with their influences and interests.
But today nobody can go out and escape. Perhaps the time has come to reflect on how to enhance what we have.
My relationship with Castellammare di Stabia continues despite all the results of the relationship with a territory where I have always felt at ease for its urban characteristics and for the strong sense of identity.
A sense that has sometimes become a deafening parochialism that forgets to be part of a larger nutritional base. Not only a fundamental root of Neapolitan cultural history, but a fundamental branch of Italian national culture.
A sense that goes beyond the utopian myth of a people’s Europe.
I dreamed of an Italy freed from the turbulence of occult and globalist powers, to be able to value our most remote traditions and to revive a cultural identity that is aware of respect for our planet Earth. The only living system we all belong to.
And respect for the other national cultures of all five continents will be the substratum in which even Castellammare di Stabia can find that lost feeling of being a daughter of Rome, a foundation for Europe and a flower of the entire continent of Eurasia.