Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Migrants do not exist

Stories and News No. 1146

Migrants do not exist.
The word does.
Migrants, only the latter, usually undeserving the article, let alone respect and empathy for those who just want a better life.
Because this is empathy, ladies and gentlemen, in the most trivial of meanings.
The ability to put yourself in the other's shoes, being able to understand that, in this accursed case, those people are desperately looking for what we all want.



Maybe this is the main problem.
Probably, this widespread mixture of foolishness and hatred does not arise only from ignorance and perhaps we all understand more than it seems.
Nonetheless, I repeat, migrants do not exist, they have never did for most of the inhabitants of this confused and divided world, except in the social vocabulary or inside a frustrated outburst at the end of a disappointing week.
Yes, this is what I firmly believe: we do nothing but play with words.
So here are the migrants of the modern populist leaders.
Here are the migrants feared and insulted by all types of politicians with votes earned on social networks.
Here are the migrants whose most of the inhabitants of this planet talks.
The truth is that they have never existed, like that.
I am referring to the mysterious and menacing creatures with strange skin or bizarre names, which feed on alien stuff and plot against us speaking with their incomprehensible language.
The fact is that they have never really been present in the intolerant people’s real life, but the same is for the average citizen who stands still at the edge of the discussion.
Because this means being there for someone.
It means looking in each other's eyes.
It involves carefully listening to the other's reasons.
Trying to know their emotions and feelings.
I do not say anybody, but at least one.
Only in that case you may enjoy an authoritative right and a worthy competence to speak about your foreigner neighbor.
Because you know him thoroughly.
For this reason, now, here, on this page, I challenge you.
At any level of the social hierarchy you raise your verbal walls, engaging in more or less intense talks on immigration, sentencing and condemning as judges around the destiny of millions of human lives, how many so-called migrants do you know? Have you ever let them entering your life?
How many are there inside world leaders’ life? And what about those who voted for these people believing in the border security’s lie?
I say zero or little more.
This is what I think and write without fear.
A deafening and embarrassing nothing.
But the chatter... lots of ravings and delusions hide the dry silences of this dull mass of alleged defenders of “their” country.
Foreigners, immigrants, illegal people, refugees have been and still today are nouns similar to the exotic picture on the wall in the living room to change the dull dinner with the usual friends.
They have become the most precious sets of letters which to fill their voids with.
However, at the end of the day, when the light goes out and the eyes close, they dissolve like falsities disguised as ghosts, because there was nothing under the dreaded white sheet.
These ghosts, that is, these migrants do not exist.
At the same time, what really existed is my father, who rests right on this earth, which welcomed him in the last century.
They existed before becoming the thousands of unlucky lives that every year disappear under the sea.
They are the 49 human beings whose fate depends at this precise moment on the governments that we have elected.
Despite this, we cannot change the past, but the choice for tomorrow is still mine and also yours and today it is at a crossroads.
Between words and people.
If only the first ones are enough to you, I am sorry for you and for those who will pay the consequences.
Otherwise, do as I do.
Get out, talk and listen, look with your own eyes and experience the world with your senses.
You will find out that, even in that case, migrants do not exist at all.
There is only us, everyone.
With a destiny to term and the much desired happiness on the common horizon.


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