Stories and News No. 817
Once upon a time there were attacks.
Terrorism and massacres.
Once upon a time there were assassins, or whatever you prefer to call them.
Justifying fear and hatred, needs, interests and everything you will tell not even your mother.
And then there are them.
You see, you have to look at them, the victims.
Especially those that must necessarily be seen.
Until night falls.
It may happen tomorrow, the next time, the following one and in the end it comes.
The day after.
The time of the others.
The new victims, so different, almost invisible to the naked eye, without time and humanity.
So, randomly, there are victims because they resembled the bad guys.
And the victims because we were looking for the bad guys, but… anyway, we found them.
There are survived victims to the vengeance of the day after the other massacre.
Because no, we had not forgotten at all of them.
There are the victims of peace given by war to restore peace where war has destroyed the peace of those who only saw the war on television.
And victims of that war before called peace, but now we can no longer hide.
Because yes.
This time we had forgotten them.
There are also victims just because are staying there, in the public square, close to the global target.
Where we will have to take sides, let off steam or, at worst, distract us.
From us.
And there are victims of rejected words, reneged and vomited again on indefensible skins and victims of retouched images with skillful malice or just selected at random.
Finally, here come the victims born victims.
Good for any season.
Or war.
Once upon a time there were massacres.
Attacks and terrorism.
Once upon a time there were killers, or whatever you intend to imagine them.
Alleviating violence and abuse, selfishness, oppression and all that you would tell only your buddies.
And then there are them.
You see, you must remember the victims.
Especially those that should necessarily be remembered.
Until the darkness arrives.
It will happen at dawn, the next one, but in the end it always comes.
The day after.
Where the victims, the others, will be sacrificed.
In the silence of the majority of people.
Read more true stories about diversity
Buy my latest book, The hoax of the migrants
Help us to realize the X Edition of the Storytelling Festival The gift of diversity
Storytelling videos with subtitles
More on Stories and News:
Once upon a time there were attacks.
Terrorism and massacres.
Once upon a time there were assassins, or whatever you prefer to call them.
Justifying fear and hatred, needs, interests and everything you will tell not even your mother.
And then there are them.
You see, you have to look at them, the victims.
Especially those that must necessarily be seen.
Until night falls.
It may happen tomorrow, the next time, the following one and in the end it comes.
The day after.
The time of the others.
The new victims, so different, almost invisible to the naked eye, without time and humanity.
So, randomly, there are victims because they resembled the bad guys.
And the victims because we were looking for the bad guys, but… anyway, we found them.
There are survived victims to the vengeance of the day after the other massacre.
Because no, we had not forgotten at all of them.
There are the victims of peace given by war to restore peace where war has destroyed the peace of those who only saw the war on television.
And victims of that war before called peace, but now we can no longer hide.
Because yes.
This time we had forgotten them.
There are also victims just because are staying there, in the public square, close to the global target.
Where we will have to take sides, let off steam or, at worst, distract us.
From us.
And there are victims of rejected words, reneged and vomited again on indefensible skins and victims of retouched images with skillful malice or just selected at random.
Finally, here come the victims born victims.
Good for any season.
Or war.
Once upon a time there were massacres.
Attacks and terrorism.
Once upon a time there were killers, or whatever you intend to imagine them.
Alleviating violence and abuse, selfishness, oppression and all that you would tell only your buddies.
And then there are them.
You see, you must remember the victims.
Especially those that should necessarily be remembered.
Until the darkness arrives.
It will happen at dawn, the next one, but in the end it always comes.
The day after.
Where the victims, the others, will be sacrificed.
In the silence of the majority of people.
Read more true stories about diversity
Buy my latest book, The hoax of the migrants
Help us to realize the X Edition of the Storytelling Festival The gift of diversity
Storytelling videos with subtitles
More on Stories and News: