It's time to pull the strings. Missing 99 days at the end of my European Voluntary Service in Belgium and are more confused than when I left.
It was like a detox treatment based on cigarettes and coffee.
When people ask me what life is answer with a metaphor: it is a walk in which people take you and accompany you for a while and then let go with new experiences. This year has been the journey of Santiago de Compostela where the hazard, the case was king.
Each meeting was random: I could be there, how could I not be there, but as I was, there was ... and has carved a part of me changed forever, shocked, angry or just making me showing angle of scene never considered before.
There is no turning back. Human experiences are not to do and redo the experiments, we have a chance, and we have to play better.
is why I suffer to see people of my age, or simply people who, were it not for this stupid political and bureaucratic system could be my neighbors with whom to go to drink a spritz, could be my classmates, or simply might be people master their lives, are forced to do anything: this is forcing people to wear.
Offices of social workers of the center are covered with posters praising the courage of asylum seekers: yes, it takes a lot of courage to be treated as a domestic animal which feeds and to which it provides a litter and a cushion to wait for a very uncertain outcome on which depends the rest of his life (life, not a part of it, but it in its entirety).
Waiting. The waiting is the action that there is more treacherous: you can not do otherwise. And I laugh when I think that I get nervous if I wait for a friend late appointment when there are people waiting for a piece of orange paper to live their lives, piece issued by people who judge you after an interview after which he returns home to his little family in the beautiful villa in the middle-class neighborhood to plan their holidays abroad and the asylum seeker if he returns to the limbo of maybe. What
disgust that. In
Betrothed Fra Cristoforo, commenting on the injustices of Don Rodrigo, said the day will come ... but will it truly the day when things will change? I'm skeptical.
It was like a detox treatment based on cigarettes and coffee.
When people ask me what life is answer with a metaphor: it is a walk in which people take you and accompany you for a while and then let go with new experiences. This year has been the journey of Santiago de Compostela where the hazard, the case was king.
Each meeting was random: I could be there, how could I not be there, but as I was, there was ... and has carved a part of me changed forever, shocked, angry or just making me showing angle of scene never considered before.
There is no turning back. Human experiences are not to do and redo the experiments, we have a chance, and we have to play better.
is why I suffer to see people of my age, or simply people who, were it not for this stupid political and bureaucratic system could be my neighbors with whom to go to drink a spritz, could be my classmates, or simply might be people master their lives, are forced to do anything: this is forcing people to wear.
Offices of social workers of the center are covered with posters praising the courage of asylum seekers: yes, it takes a lot of courage to be treated as a domestic animal which feeds and to which it provides a litter and a cushion to wait for a very uncertain outcome on which depends the rest of his life (life, not a part of it, but it in its entirety).
Waiting. The waiting is the action that there is more treacherous: you can not do otherwise. And I laugh when I think that I get nervous if I wait for a friend late appointment when there are people waiting for a piece of orange paper to live their lives, piece issued by people who judge you after an interview after which he returns home to his little family in the beautiful villa in the middle-class neighborhood to plan their holidays abroad and the asylum seeker if he returns to the limbo of maybe. What
disgust that. In
Betrothed Fra Cristoforo, commenting on the injustices of Don Rodrigo, said the day will come ... but will it truly the day when things will change? I'm skeptical.
