In Angola they feel prisoners political accused of any crime. They say that it is a democratic regime that it is in the middle of the joy of their functions. The democratic potencies close the eyes and they point that it is like this that it is good, that it is like this that it is made the stability in Africa. Here is the income of the terrorism of which Europe is not gotten to loosen. Who supports the corruption and their dictatorships, in the bottom it is also terrorist without the knowledge.

quarta-feira, 14 de outubro de 2009

The Epic poem of the Darkness (39)

Would happen what if we unmasked, we spoke, and did we open our soul? To do the invisible, visible? There is a lot of superstitious fear. The people live in another world possessed by the religious cults.
The History is filled of holy wars, of exterminations, of liberation cults. All assure us, they are liberators. Then because we continued oppressed? Because they are not liberation wars. They are wars of continuation of the oppression.

During many years of my life taught me that the other people were late, uncivilized. They needed the magical food of the Christian faith, of the paradisiacal transport. They would be freed of their gods, they would ignore the cruelty, shadows, darkness of the demoniac paganism. In consonance the politicians invade in the better life, and the religion promises to live us in the eternal paradise. But when an I am governed he doesn't take the responsibility before the citizens in the minimum provisioning of water, it shines, food, foils of zinc to redo lodging and some clothes that is slavery. Comparing the times, the modern ones crossed the old ones. He never happened in the History so much slavery, submission, spoliation as now.

Colonized autochthonous Jingola were freed. Their liberators bled the colonial end and slavery defender. Soon afterwards as ships scouts they overflowed the humanization of the History. Submitted to the modern laws of the new slavery, to the laws of the unalterable hunger, to the laws of the epidemics that accompany her. It is the destiny of the people, the frustration of the History. Isolated as island lost somewhere in any ocean, awaiting the salty death. Regimes of suspended exception in actions unconstitutional, business, free actions. There are no citation orders, there are penal mandates. The business power is occult, fearful. Ruler that doesn't walk for the middle of his people is unpopular, apprehensive.

The galloping tuberculosis enrolled in the picture of the epidemics. In the hospital the available places are insufficient. In spite of some new focuses, the cholera, was said, no longer had it scared. It equips her doctor affirmed that it would be extinguished in the next five years.

This is world of dinosaurs, stone beings with minds of incoherent sources that they disable the validity of the light natural, cerebral. Hollow of line it lasts, they are fished with fishhook in his insanity. Shocks are prescribed in the dark fabrics but, the encephalons insist that we submitted of his uselessness… perfectionists of the Murphy's Law. Lacking, believers in the for life power stay skeletal to the death, to disorder. They don't use the guilty conscience, they don't advance young substitutes' formation. They become tired in the demagogic creation of jobs, in the opportunities to the rejuvenated grey mass. The bridges tumble, the one of the power no.
The most powerful man and the weakest man don't have the same importance. The weakest man is more important, because at any moment it drops the most powerful man

My best friend is the silence of the odor of the embalmed forest sanctity, of the admitted laments, convinced. My enemies are the four horsemen of the apocalypse: the real estate speculator, the lawyer, the financial speculator and the agent mortuary. But, my largest fear is to be burned by heresy.
We believed, we defended resolutions, revolutions, and later we let to crawl in the current of the hateful poverty
They educated me, they taught me, they re-educated me that the Western civilization is superior. Later I discovered with lonely smiles, the all was harmed. I didn't produce statues or other works of art because my beauty, the purism in my ways, are rebirths for the artists lovers of the superiors primitivisms. My civilization is inferior in the technology, but it is superior in my other impression of nascent sun.

Image: Angola em fotos

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