Mound Blade 1.011 Seri Numarası

Mischief two militants

Dedicated to James and Gaby

When in a foxhole, there are few times that you dare to leave: in times of war, a misstep can be sprayed history. Being behind those sandbags provide the security needed to rest, cool off in the attack received, take a breath and prepare for defense.

The day to day is not very different: every debate, every word, even every step you take, it is often the offensive or defensive of this war which we have called life. In our country, where diversity has been assumed, rather than as a right and an obligation as a privilege rather than as a danger, rather than pride, shame, our trenches have different nuances: racial trenches, trenches theological generational trenches, trenches of social classes.

clear view of the chaotic nature of the living space, has been recognized as belonging out of the side is extremely risky for those who do not know what she faces, or worse, do not know how. Then, if such action is totally reckless, lower the rear of the enemy or worse, try to know, a relationship and come up with estimates, it would definitely be a death sentence, a letter of treason.

But not always, not always the enemy has a face of the enemy or fellow brother's face. Sometimes the uniforms and the colors are set by general managers of this war and, often, goes against the militants. Therefore, as would Fabrizio de Andrè on one of his songs, many times we find men to the valley who have our same humor, but the uniform of another color and we are obliged simply to shoot.

Life is similar, sometimes good people do not choose to be old, to be entrepreneurs or work fourteen hours a day in a tiny room instead of going to college, or read of American art. But life and its demands, the needs and disregard the wishes forced to leave behind and do the best within the tax scenario.

writer's relationship with Fabiana Cruz, manager of digital advertising company PubliAvisos is not very different from that of two militants who discovered that their differences were rooted simply in the color of the jacket. Existential conflicts also happen to be similar: to shoot so as not to drop a bullet. However, the baby born in the midst of chaos is far more lucid, more sincere than that feeling which springs from the abundance and waste.

Is this feeling will hope to bounce an occasional broom around? I think so, as the strengthening of equalities and away our differences. Finally, one of the things that makes us equal radiographically, is the sincere desire to leave a better world than we were receiving.