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  • Under the daylight, people should remember: whatever will be, will be, the future is not ours to see. "O que será, será", as we tell here.

    What's to be doing there, being unimportant and painful to every eye like an inflamed appendix? Believe it! Everybody notices them while their knife cuts their own families, someone's belly, a powerful purse. There's a reason for their vigil under the sun to wait for us, our help, our mandatory contribution, our help, our light... but their willful vexes as wax of a lightened candle.

    Just wander a little with them, uneasy like smoke, coming from under the lamp, the sun hitting their head, no matter. If you and I have soul to fly, we know what an appendix feels like. Let just leave our offices, our schools, to watch how quick they are to hit the light anywhere it comes from to burn their pipes. They get high as the street lamps and burn to fall to the depth of gutters. They go out of sight under the wings of soldiers with sticks.

    There will come a Light to Rio, for World Youth Day Journey next year. We don't know if they will be aged for it, because they are children, teenagers, family guys, retired men and mothers, grandmothers. Their labor comes from dirty rooms, ruined streets, the street lamps are broken. Their light and power come from burning pipes of crack. Policemen, firemen, guardian angels hurt them with bullet feathers, and again, they rise from ashes.

    Like moths, their undistinguished faces brings calm breeze. The future is not ours to see, but all of us are cyclopes. Dozens of them each day, they're supposed to vanish before it under the cracked light.

    (Photo by Leonardo Martins, "Crack Epidemic". Shot from Jacaré Slum, Rio de Janeiro)
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