It's been nine days since we started the Pirate Nagusia Aste from Donostia. Six days after the protocol was activated against sexist aggressions and assaults against women* began to happen one after the other. Two days since we took the streets of the Casco Viejo at night, above the blockade of uniformed, trans, bolleras and women* of Irutxulo. Barely a day has passed since Irrikitaldia ended and I still have some knots inside: one by the diaphragm and one by the throat.

I find it difficult, very difficult, to accept that we have to get used to living in fear. I don't want to admit that having a woman*, a mouthpiece or a trance is the same as being afraid. I don't want to admit that to be free you need force, violence, to generate fear in others. But the reality of the last few days leads me to it. How do we deal with violence against us? How do we deal with those who come to attack us? What is the time and legitimate action of self-defence? Once attacked, when does the recovery process begin? What to do about the institutional violence of the medical, police and administrative institutions that do not believe us?

Beyond the questions, three sinks have been incarnated this week, with provisional certainties. The work carried out by the watchmen in recent years has been fundamental: without identifying the underwater currents and storms of the sky, we could not take the measure of this aggression. Thanks to the collective strength that the servants have taught us, we have been able to bring to the surface of water the undersea boats sunk by the attacks. And finally, the fabric of reilers that we are constantly opening has built an irreplaceable refuge; a location and a heteropatriarchal character of the institutions and police forces themselves and a safe space that they cannot give us from capitalism.

Today I have not been able to write about other subjects. I mean those who have turned on the light that I've found in the darkness of the last few days. Women*, ranchers and trans women who have formed these three cutting-edge pillars that have helped us survive in the disaster. Thanks to the fasteners, servants and reilers. And thank you very much to all the Pirates who took care of the withdrawal, to the members of Kijera and to the anonymous ones who were working as cooks on the day we stopped the program: what a few years ago was impossible to all those who made it possible this year. Together we are stronger. We recovered together. Together anything is possible.