The noun “acontecência” accurately describes what is happening today among us and what we cannot comprehend as a greater reason for our existence.
Some of its meanings are worthy of reflection, such as sucedei, ocorrei, decorrei, vinde, sede, sucedei, resultai, sobrevinde, advinde, calhai, existi, havei, transcorrei, intercorrei, sobrechegai, among many others, showing us where we are and how we are.
Let’s suppose you have forgotten a bunch of people who passed through your troubled life, including me, justifying the fact that you are out there full of commitments, problems of all kinds, and millions of confusions in your head, fighting openly with the uncertainties of life, with a little of what is left of you.
Objectively and more practically, it is easier to use a quick and effective solution for all ills. To lean on the discovery of a new love.
Finding an urgent love out there that becomes the reason for everything and your newest motivation.
Perhaps this love is a cause, an escape, coming from wherever it may.
Ah!!! These loves that never are, never were, and will never be.
Just mere delusions along the way.
Then, in some fleeting moment of memory, we start to remember some fact, of a friend who once had importance or never had any importance in our lives, but who marked and was part of a moment of it.
You see this as a justification, an opportunity to appeal to the basics, to the immediate, and to shout at the top of your lungs, “the world is crazy…”
The worst….
The world is not crazy!
The world continues to walk calmly in its mismatches, in its absolute characteristics and imperfections as it was created by God, being punished from time to time by nature.
Understand that we are today at the mercy of a catastrophe created by ourselves within our confused and deranged universe.
With each passing day, we continue to be more indifferent to our consciousness, to our commitments, to our loves, and caring about a mountain of insignificances and our own importance that gets left behind.
It’s hard to even notice that yesterday was and will be much more important than tomorrow… although the remedy that cures madness is to justify that all the catastrophic effects and the absolute relationship with what we experienced and should have forgotten at the starting point… at the port, at the station.
It’s an unfortunate idea to confuse and not understand the burden of things, that life accompanies us and not to make them a weapon, a victorious reference.
Who was… was. Marked as a reference.
Good or bad… it doesn’t matter to what we call history.
Life knows this very well.
Only those who understand importance have importance.
With each passing day, our list of things, priorities, beliefs, and especially people who were with us at the station of life is diminishing. Disappearing slowly and getting lost out there.
You start to notice the gray hairs, the wrinkles, and an exaggerated hurry to recover all that was once beautiful, desired, admired, and a whatever that opened doors, and today, only registered in photographs.
Pay attention and see well that in this year that is passing, an absolute infinity of some of these many desires of ours have gone and slipped through our fingers, like a loss. This is called late lament.
This here, with no pretense, is a reflection.
Just to say with the strength of my lungs that I am still here in life, eager to tell you a thousand craziness, many dreams, many projects, and those secrets that we only reveal under the influence of a drunkenness, the hangover of constant blows like eternal confidences.
One more thing: pay close attention. Our doctors, psychiatrists, spiritual guides of all kinds are and will always be our idols, just like our teachers who bet blindly on our happenings.
Parents, family, the very few friends from the past who still live cheer with voracious strength and bet on our endeavors.
Surely, they are also part of this gallery.
I don’t know why this came to my mind, like an imminent need to speak these things as a message.
Perhaps, pure longing for you who read these my considerations or perhaps
a simple alert from someone aware of sensitivities.
Let’s admit…. Pure poetry, a pretentious chronicle talking about happenings.
Remember … you have always been, are, and will be part of the path of those who matter to you. Called the path of the stars.
The train doesn’t stop… Life doesn’t stop…
And where does God fit into this?
He will always be remembered, called in haste, like a good antidote in difficult moments and ends of hopelessness to fix the heart, which understood that it is time to close the circle of happenings.
LUCIANO WROTE
Journalist