For a second job…

It was a gray morning. The rain took everyone’s prayers and put them on the ground. Not. On the streets. Streets full of holes. Holes understood as scars. Scars of this city. A city with nothing left but holding on. Just like people waiting on supermarket´s lines. Lines for food. For a second job. A job born from the chaos. And by the way: such a chaos brought to establish order. Yes. An order. A convenient order. So we all go and watch TV, read the papers, complain, and complain again until we begin to hope. Finally. Hoping for a better tomorrow and tomorrow is today. And today it’s raining and the morning was gray… But this is not just a sad feeling. Nope. Among the events of the day people still find a better look, a fancy place to gather (and yes, still complaining) but there are some who laugh, upload pictures of a nice lifestyle, even with these news, with these politicians. So I wonder if it may be our wonder; if this is a beauty I don’t understand because I spend too much time staring at elsewhere ones. I can’t help it. The concept of beauty and wonder I grew up with is far from this one. But I get this sort of a kind. Chaos: when is induced by power, it is just a beautiful thing…