Stories and News No. 768
Once upon a time there were the people of rights.
That population was made up of many kind of persons.
Different, despite appearances.
So far, we are still in the land of banality.
So be brave, let us strive to leave.
Inside the people made up of many different persons, despite appearances, there were some who claimed to be in favor of migrants and the resulting free movement of survivals.
And the only possible future, where we are all equally guests.
Nevertheless, at the same time, many of them stood up against the unpopular and uncomfortable inhabitant of lager 2.0.
In short, Romani people.
In other words: I'm not racist, I’m totally not, but the 'gypsies'...
At the same time, in the same people, perhaps even sitting alongside, there were those who screamed in defense of the latter: "Don’t say ‘gypsies’, that is offensive."
However, seamless in the heart, the same persons were against any alternative to the canon as quite matrimonial mosaic, pointing as vicious frenzy every type of intercourse considered alien.
That is, with one face-side I defend the rights of Romani people and with the other I fight for the so-called traditional family.
What do they do with the third side, because there's always a third in such cases, it is better not to know.
On the enemy fence, confused in the same people, there were those who felt proud of their gender emancipation, making it a flag, real and metaphorical.
Nevertheless, a blink of an eye later, you would have been able to listen them in monologues against invaders of the home soil, guilty of the worst congenital fault: to be born ‘there’ and pretend to live ‘here’, instead of dying ‘in the middle’.
Synthesizing, I want free love by day and prisoner immigrants by night.
Or vice versa, depending on how I wake up in the morning.
In the same people, a few meters away, clandestines causes activists, borders breakers and customs eaters strongly disagreed, screaming passionately.
But among them you could see those that just a moment before were showing their disdain for the souls deemed eccentric, stubborn in manifesting at the sunlight the colors of their erotic imagination.
Translating: I am close to the immigrants who dream of a better tomorrow, but I stay well away from the 'sexual men', ‘women who copulate with themselves’ and ‘those who travel from a nature to another one’, even if I have not yet figured out if I have to call them male or female.
I will stop here, although I might add those who wish to protect the ‘abused animals’ but not the ‘victims of homophobia’ and those who were sharpening their knives with the insensitive persons towards the ‘differently abled’ and then put them back in the drawer if ‘differently’ also included ‘sexual orientation’.
Once upon a time there were people.
Another kind of.
That one formed by the rest of the persons.
Those who are not a population.
They are just a lump of flesh saturated with hatred and loneliness.
Which a long ago has dismissed the last remnants of humanity left.
But they are strong, lump of flesh or true population, they are still very strong.
And their strength is only one.
The dull and unforgivable division.
Of the people of rights...
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