quarta-feira, 1 de dezembro de 2010

It´s no kind of life

The bells strikes and the faithful and the infidels do that typical sign of the cross, asking to be blessed and delivered from every kind of evil in the face of this harsh land, because they know that evil is in the ground until you step on top of a hedge, in a supermarket, banks, across the streets ...
People run, people scream, people get desperate and throw themselves on the floor in an attempt to escape the flying bullets and insane at the breast of someone innocent.
In the skies instead of birds, what you see are the traces of bullets from one side to another, coming and going. Various calibers, several targets spontaneous. The bursts are not fireworks, but shots, shots, shots, shots, shots and more shots without stopping for the day off, through the night.
The explosions are not a
pyrotechnic demonstration, but grenades, tear gas bombs or moral effect bombs, to win the log morals, if they exist moral. And in the streets no more is known who the boy and girl, the villain and the villain.
Could be a privilege to live in an action movie or horror where the victims are chosen without definition of talent or training, but it's not legal and will never be as innocent people are exposed to the vanity of thieves collar, with its expensive suits and ties ...
And we know: This is no a kind of life


Pipo Sotero

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