Dying for too much living for a little

Stories and News No. 1031

In Japan, job inspectors have determined that journalist Miwa Sado’s death at the age of 31 in July 2013 was caused by overwork.
The woman, who was employed at the headquarters of the country's public broadcaster, Nippon Hōsō Kyōkai, during the month preceding his death for heart failure had recorded 159 hours of extraordinary and enjoyed just two days of rest.
The case has been made public by its former employer only this week
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Yes, I know what you’re thinking now.
That's what they all think afterwards.
I would do it also myself, in your place, if I could.
Yes, if I could.
Too late, right?
For me, not for you, as they say.
This is the fate of the ‘too much’ of this world.
They are a useful cover for ‘a lot’, not to mention the little.
We, martyrs of time, can only envy the latter.
If I had bigger eyes to find out the deception, like the cartoon characters, that look more like you than us and that's fine.
Because it’s the classic nature of the not required, but best sellers things.
Where many like them, too many, the real you worth nothing.
At best, a little.
This is in fact the core of the whole discussion, right?
That's our value on the market.
Traces of zero that dance in the void by rejecting each other.
So fast, and apparently tireless.
That’s how the negligible dot becomes a line, the invisible ones gain their story and the star crosses the sky and make speak and dream about her.
If I was satisfied with the sufficiency.
The living minimum.
It would have been something more than the little I thought.
You've already got it, right?
I hope.
I would like to return to the starting point.
That bloody day when the shot exploded in my head, scaring the natural melodies to death.
The nuances in the numbers of the gray misters with a black heart.
Never too much in the silence of the lucky ones, surviving the witch called practicality.
Serenity, your name is slow.
Because so it should be said.
In order that in the midst of the dust raised by anxious souls to win the golden podium, under the underdeveloped back slings, it can overcome the shame of being perfect and show itself.
Rejoice, then, if you’re still last in this walk, behind the crowd race, where the money in the pocket and career bounties, top honors and side nudges, large desks and comfortable armchairs are never too much for the little, at the very end, when the curtain illusion closes.
Yes, I know what you’re saying now.
That's logical, right?
Doing it later.
Me too, like you, I would smile.
Maybe with a mere refinement, in my case.
Thinking about the idea that there is too much in this passable and fragile life to waste it for so little…


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