The following is reprinted from the Will2Rise Substack.
I knocked on the big metal doors of a commercial building on a quiet Roman street. I had no contact name—just an address. It came from some random account I found while going down a European nationalist rabbit hole on social media.
It was around 2013. My first time back in Italy since childhood, since those family visits that left more flavor than memory. I was there with a chick, planning the usual romantic getaway. The Colosseum. Wine. Ruins. But one square on the itinerary was mine. One day, one reason I really came to Rome: CasaPound. (more…)








