Wind gatherings

 

Subjects are collected in the surroundings sitting at the end of Friday while we await developments of the sad hygienic "homilies" and the jam of the DGS. Vampires of the Pandemic Sunset in a pandemic, in the bleeding of pain; For others, memories fill picture books, life stories, and timeless love story postcards.

Smiles and eyes light up in the memory of a love from the past, we talk about chestnuts and walnuts and there are those who are already talking about children, and have already thought of everything, in a Christmas that promises to be without family, of the virus that drives us away, of the conceptions and concepts of life, of ours and of our chosen ones.

Politics and corruption, always associated in the same soap opera which has long ceased to scandalize us.
We live on the back of the pseudo-normal days, now what?
The having to do the verbal waiting time is postponed, the specific day, which is not today or so soon, by decree
From the economy that closes more stores than the stock exchange in 29,
of school, of miseducation and the disintegration of what we are, technology, which buys the mortgaged future with bitcoins. Live on loan.

We talk about you, about the other, about your mother, about your grandfather, about your face, about your age to die,
Who knew? Caught in the web of circumstance embroidered with heartbreak
What's more? We never, never, never go back to the before, never, and under the masks we wear, the 2nd skin, we go from the deep to the superficial, in a peak of ego, fear and ephemerality.