Stories and News No. 881
While the US President Obama was visiting Hiroshima at the Memorial of the atomic bombings, embracing one of the survivors, a female elephant named Hanako died in Tokyo, described as the loneliest in the world by many animals rights activists.
It was a 'gift' by the Government of Thailand and had lived most of her life completely alone in a small concrete fence at Inokashira Park Zoo.
Exactly as much the time that separates us from those bloody days in August, Hanako lived about seventy years.
More precisely, she survived...
Before and after.
I know.
Indeed, I remember.
I know and remember what I know what they says about elephants.
We have good memory.
Maybe I had not been an elephant.
Maybe I was just a lucky exception of the above rule.
Because I know.
I know and remember.
That it has not always been so, the captivity called life.
There was a before and an after.
They say.
The people by the soft floor used to say, whenever the shock wave - that even now upsets destinies in the silence, touches them: the world will never be the same again.
We are now already in the after.
Well, you have to know that this happens every second far away from you that look beyond the bars and discover the other's solitude in the shelter of a camera, possibly with suitable sweeteners filters.
I know and remember that before.
Because that is where I have never stopped living.
With whom at that before remained.
In all natural dance of things.
Before.
In the daily wounds and joys.
Before.
More than ever in feared nights, drowned in the dark skies and screaming rains, that only now I see as small and precious frames of the only true life I had.
Before.
I remember because I know and I know because I could not forget.
I owe it to the damn heart that still gave music as a gift.
To the air that did not stop cross me like it was mistress of my body.
To the light that did not give up and found me whenever it could.
I owe it especially to you.
That in all this time, in many came here and went away like the waves on a shore where we were trapped.
I know it.
I know because I remember perfectly all those who were next to me before the giant who delete stories walked on us.
I am the enormous imprint of his colossal shoe.
I am the shadow that exceedingly lingers and unnaturally stretches.
I have always been alone to really know and remember what it means.
Before.
And after.
Read more stories about life
Buy my latest book The hoax of the migrants
Listen my song Wolves
Storytelling videos with subtitles
More on Stories and News:
While the US President Obama was visiting Hiroshima at the Memorial of the atomic bombings, embracing one of the survivors, a female elephant named Hanako died in Tokyo, described as the loneliest in the world by many animals rights activists.
It was a 'gift' by the Government of Thailand and had lived most of her life completely alone in a small concrete fence at Inokashira Park Zoo.
Exactly as much the time that separates us from those bloody days in August, Hanako lived about seventy years.
More precisely, she survived...
Before and after.
 |
| Photo from The Telegraph |
I know.
Indeed, I remember.
I know and remember what I know what they says about elephants.
We have good memory.
Maybe I had not been an elephant.
Maybe I was just a lucky exception of the above rule.
Because I know.
I know and remember.
That it has not always been so, the captivity called life.
There was a before and an after.
They say.
The people by the soft floor used to say, whenever the shock wave - that even now upsets destinies in the silence, touches them: the world will never be the same again.
We are now already in the after.
Well, you have to know that this happens every second far away from you that look beyond the bars and discover the other's solitude in the shelter of a camera, possibly with suitable sweeteners filters.
 |
| Photo from The New York Times |
Because that is where I have never stopped living.
With whom at that before remained.
In all natural dance of things.
Before.
In the daily wounds and joys.
Before.
More than ever in feared nights, drowned in the dark skies and screaming rains, that only now I see as small and precious frames of the only true life I had.
Before.
I remember because I know and I know because I could not forget.
I owe it to the damn heart that still gave music as a gift.
To the air that did not stop cross me like it was mistress of my body.
To the light that did not give up and found me whenever it could.
I owe it especially to you.
That in all this time, in many came here and went away like the waves on a shore where we were trapped.
I know it.
I know because I remember perfectly all those who were next to me before the giant who delete stories walked on us.
I am the enormous imprint of his colossal shoe.
I am the shadow that exceedingly lingers and unnaturally stretches.
I have always been alone to really know and remember what it means.
Before.
And after.
Read more stories about life
Buy my latest book The hoax of the migrants
Listen my song Wolves
Storytelling videos with subtitles
More on Stories and News: