Have you ever seen the face of a hungry man? The eyes protrude, they tend. The face is like being sucked by the movement of the eyes and gets down on the second floor. And his eyes, left alone, threw themselves into the void from which expect food.
Have you ever been hungry?
Have you ever been hungry for more than an hour?
Have you ever been hungry for days? Relentlessly. Without interruption. With the stomach that breaks down?
with ulcers that will mark the skin like craters? With legs that do not support you anymore? With the gums watery blood? With the brain that becomes stringy?
Have you ever had a child crying from hunger?
Have you ever seen the bulging eyes of your child begging food?
Have you ever had to respond with silence in the eyes of your child begging for food?
Do you ever feel down for not having enough bread to make your baby stop crying?
The most intact men have had enough of its integrity, if they see their children crying with hunger for months and months.
And now those who have never been hungry, I would like to close in prison. Because I stole bread. It is justice I say. And justice is the order that keeps the company alive: it is the good of all, I say.
The hungry do not care of this justice and this society. There is one justice for the hungry: the bread.
And if this is a crime, patience! If I have to die anyway, then it is the same whether you starve or in a cell.
If you have never experienced hunger, the long, that persists. The one who does not see the solution. If you never try, then you'll surely a morale. A justice of others. And the costumes. And the strict rules. Taxes.
If you have never experienced hunger, the long, that persists. The one who does not see the solution. If you never try, then you're definitely a slave. You will definitely proud to be free, guaranteed by the righteousness of others.
The hungry do not. The hungry are willing to anything. I can blame for this?
who tried knows hunger: hunger awakens from taxation. The manners and morals are thought to be satiated.
When you're hungry you can not make him squeamish. When you're hungry, when you have the body that dissolves in diarrhea, no disgust in the flesh of the rat. Not disgust is in trying to cook tulip bulbs, there is no disgust in the food fight with a dog is not disgusted at rummage in rubbish bins. There is no religion that makes you dislike a food. When you're hungry there's no costume. Omnivore, vegetarian, vegan, raw food, religious practitioner, are distinctions to be satiated.
When you're hungry soul begins to get lost in a travel rambling, confused and disoriented. But there is no time to oblivion, because now there's the refreshing and simple words of the body: I'm hungry. And the hunger keeps you awake. Hunger becomes a friend of the body. When you're hungry you feel the whole body, smell the your breath, feel your stomach with his seizures, the deaf hear the heart scan waiting, feel the mood of your liver soak the palate feel the muscles contract fiber after fiber; feel the bones. In the head of the hungry
thoughts that writhe like the stomach, they dissolve in the crush of the jaw. All the whirl and confusion dissolves in liquids in the mouth that bites the bite of food. All oblivion dissolves in the body. The thought cola via the jaws.
I have seen hungry people be "right" of a justice of others. And I've seen them die of hunger. I saw people starving to death not to transgress. I preferred to live. No, I do not blame for this. No, there is a hunger for justice alone aspire to: the bread.
Hunger returns animality. Hunger sparse on the ground every injury. Each costume. Each taxation. There is only one trial for the hungry: the bread.
Hunger becomes a friend of common sense.
But hunger is also made enemies. Hunger is allied with those demands. The hunger is fed by ignorance. For the poor, the culture is like food: it takes a little 'more to steal. And as the hunger
keep you awake, Justice, the rulers, they want to control.
And then every so often you eat. In that the hungry should be able to continue to suffer from hunger. At this the poor must be the noise that makes him a slave. These gentlemen we feed poor enough to afford to stay hungry. And eyes begin to lose you again in the air waiting for the new distribution of bread. Waiting. The poor forget. The poor if you forget the poor among the rich: that's how things go.
No, I do not blame for this. And I will for sure jail.
wander, illegally, in search of justice: in search of bread.
wander, confident and illegally, in search of justice: in search of bread and self-determination.
At the risk of not being healthy. At the risk of being violent.
No, I do not blame for this. This violence, violence because of who moves hungry, is not imbued with hatred. The love that this violence is just as it contains brutal violence itself, because it is a love compliant or contemplative, but a love of action and transformation.
No, I do not blame for this
I want bread and Regulations.
When I was lucky enough to suffer from hunger dream was fresh and simple. When the hunger kept me awake between the peaks of the Andes, the desire was not pasta, meat, desserts. My dream was fragrant and ripe tomato rubbed bread. And a round of extra virgin olive oil smeared with salt. When the cold and hunger among convulsions me again won the body, I get the justice that calls for bread. The justice that is in demanding bread.
With flavor,
Biso
0 comments:
Post a Comment