Wednesday, February 28, 2018

True stories of war and heroes

Mister General, may I say a word?
Could I call you sir, or I have to start by saying something proper due to your degree?
Most importantly, may I remain seated?
No, it is not a matter of lack of respect for the uniform.
And even less of an arrogant assertion of anti-militarism.
The rest of us do not have time for this.
The rest of us do not have time for common clashes.
Because we are at war.
Every day.

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Tuesday, February 27, 2018

True stories of mothers

The first dance.
The first dance together is never forgotten.
Mom.
Son.
The reasons are endless.
Unknown to most people.
Unspeakable.
Because there are no words in the world, which may tell the idea of the moment.
As a lifetime.
Not as much long as a life, of course.
Not as much.
But as a lifetime in many other meanings.

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Friday, February 23, 2018

True stories of racism: Mathilde Edey Gamassou

From that debut, promising at least on paper, of primates and eternal seconds, of unjustly last and excluded expiators, there have been a lot of lives to admire.
Even just to observe.
To study, noting evidences and details.
Among them, proceeding randomly, or rather, passionately, Martin Luther King was not a colour...

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Wednesday, February 14, 2018

True stories of women: my mother

Mine is an existence that shatters day after day.
I’m the leaves turning yellow every year more.
I’m the water that once flowed and now is forced to flee.
Shining with light that in the silence is blessed and in the opaque, human clamor becomes a sin.
Listen, then, my advice.
Don’t give up.
Not even at the ending, last word, to the fateful point, before the cruel closed door and behind the turned back by the only portion of humanity granted...

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Friday, February 2, 2018

True stories of diversity: alone between the similar

Alone among the equals.
In this way you could start traveling and climbing the social album, pyramidal road only to those who put colours and shapes before the precious, golden pot at the end of the colorful arc in the sky.
No neighbors-afraid has ever crossed to the secret and coveted goal.
You could save money, gifts and dreams.
You could exchange them all at once for the coveted mask that finally confuses you among the many.
You could even throw yourself into the desperate task of sewing it yourself, like a kind of invisibility tattoo.
Running the risk of earning at most a shred of resemblance with the much overvalued majority.
And become...

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