observed almost daily in the eyes of a perpetrator and hear those words that do not hide their misery, words that do not cry prowess, drowning, penetrate skin looking cheap, they feel itchy because the alley has doors, etc. A few words they learned in a college of dead air where the books taught to destroy the lives apart. Sure! the lives of others of course. Words without guts
Rowing without oars, without conscience. However, I really think the eyes are more than words the real mirror of the soul. I can say that behind those eyes in most cases no more than emigrants and undress dying thoughts to the penguins. Normal compression hitting a glove, a kick, a symphony of insults, etc, etc, are further confirmation that show the eyes do not lie and where then is the kind of problem. They look at you and try not to look away. Educators are skirts, presuming - knowing- in home closets keep spurs. Beings are heartless, soulless.
The vast majority of them are not people who expect to find in such great photographic catalogs of criminals. Are those little guy of people integrated in society, supported by a vast array of best practices that seek to plug the hole where they are actually scrutinize the whip that shows the path of slavery at home. A whip that society must make visible and to destroy the lives, well, destroy half-life as it is never too late to say enough is enough, forget the memories in black and white, color, etc. Whenever there is a future where no flowers in the vase soak
is what we have. A few days ago held a conference of journalism at Valencia and although the windows are open and we caught a dirty rag, distracting from the images of some programs that continue to feed the snakes. It is true that there is much more left over what is missing but while there are wells of cold water and hot water wheels continue trapped in bed prostitute, not just those who sell their feet and stained his soul, but of those who subtle violence spread to all corners, sold with a friendly face but ... .... violence. As Neruda said, "I like you calm,"
we must never excuse the cowardly, those who are always late when they see the belt. The doors are still old and tied with locks but we must try to undo the silences. Let those who feel lonely are those who abuse, those who kill, those who jalean. Feel less than anyone. Mowing is precisely no one that we must isolate them in a watch and see themselves over time. © www.quieroayudarte.com
