sábado, 1 de dezembro de 2007

burning wounds



Yesterday, somebody set fire in a store, in Pinheiros. The middle-aged, white man had bought some gasoline, crossed the entrance and yelled everybody to leave the place immediately. But a woman who worked there forgot her purse in the store, and went back to recover it. It was her mistake. In seconds, the fire took over the floor and she couldn't reach the street anymore. She breathed the toxic smoke and died, unfortunately.




These sad developments are advice. At risk, one has to leave everything behind, without wasting time. After all, you can buy a new purse tomorrow. The id, you can have another on a public department, it takes about four hours, wich is not too much, comparing to death.




Maybe, this warning is useful on emotional things, also. We should leave back all things that hurt us, instead of carry it in our souls. A restless heart can stop beating, when overcharged. One has to run off the toxic, black smoke that inner wounds expel.




It doesn't mean that we must only forget sad things to preserve ourselves. If it is the right thing to do, some wine would be enough. But alcohol can only bring more fire.




I mean that you have to put out the fire, but outside of it. In the same way, sad things are to be left behind until you are some steps ahead: then you can look back, check the damages and see where the fire really is and what has to be done in order to stop it and fix up everything.




Those thoughts are, in fact, to myself. Sometimes I want to come back and recover my id. Thinking now, I won't need it, I'll have another identity after the fire.

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