POR QUE DESISTIR. TODOS OS DIAS

Seeing everything you've ever seen was just a mirror,
Spend your whole life sweating in an endless fever,
Laying in a bathtub full of freezing water,
Wishing you were a ghost

A man in his thirties suddenly threw himself on a busy road in Kabul and yelled, "kill me and drive over me."

"They can't feed us; the easier way is to kill me and my children. Oh people, for God's sake, come and kill us," shouted the apparently exhausted man lamenting the government's failure to provide him with a livelihood.

Bodyguards of a former commander, disembarking from a luxury Jeep, were the first to respond to his call by kicking and hitting him with the butts of their Kalashnikovs. The armed men then dragged and removed him off the road. In utter disappointment, the man, in shabby cloths, started weeping like a child.

ISSO, MAIS O ABATE (DESPORTIVO!) DE FOCAS ME TIROU TUDO, HOJE.   COMO SE DIZ POR AÍ, NINGUÉM CHUTA CACHORRO MORTO.  MESMO GUILHERME DE PÁDUA (QUE ME PARECEU RAZOAVLEMENTE EQUILIBRADO, MAS NAS ENTREVISTAS ESCRITAS, QUE AO VIVO ELE NÃO É EM NADA DIRETO) DECLAROU QUE, SE LHE CUSPIAM NO ROSTO, NAS RUAS, ERA PORQUE ELE NÃO ERA TRAFICANTE DE ALTO QUILATE.  SE ELE DE FATO IMPINGISSE ALGUÉM, OU DENOTASSE PERICULOSIDADE, NÃO O AGREDIRIAM.  

A MIM, MAIS SENTIDO NÃO HÁ COMO FAZER.