In questi giorni, il mio blog compie un anno, e avevo in mente di scrivere un post riassuntivo dell'anno, ma poi succede che in una mattinata di febbraio,e splende anche il sole, senti la coscienza, o comunque la voce interiore che ti interroga e ti spacca dentro,e allora sento spontaneo e forte il bisogno di scrivere,quasi catartico.
Questa notte, a Roma è bruciata una baracca in un campo nomadi, 4 bimbi ( e non 4 rom in meno, come hanno commentato included those lousy journalism) are burned to death.
It hurts the conscience, think of four dead children, and has nothing to do, is something out of place to the rattle of the mayor Alemanno, who is a heartfelt, but basically just wants to wash her consciousness.
I admit, the Roma people are a strange, hard to understand, and to whom it is easy generalizzare.Sono all thieves! Do not wash! Exploit children! Why not live in a house?
I like to borrow the words of Faber, to sum up what your heart tells!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ofg5JsmMFHo
Meanwhile, four children are gone!
anesthetized and sometimes I feel inside ...
another thing happened, more indifference 'total (but all the news talked about it) ... the Egyptian police, fire on a protester who was clearly a sign that he had warlike intentions, shoot and kill it, dry, like a dog, now you are there, now you're gone '.
Last night at Tg and I could not go beyond "what the hell are they doing?"
Yeah, what the hell are we doing? Who or what we have become, so to be anesthetized? Where did Italians good people?
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