Anda e para. Para e anda. Claudicante o carro avança pela rodovia. Enquanto isso fico sonhando com as vielas que eu passava rápido, quando criança, de bicicleta...

Diante de tanta ignorância e preconceito atualmente eu só posso comentar que o Facebook é um terreno fértil para os piores frutos de nossa tosca personalidade.

We all come from somewhere. Born, aborted, extradited, fugitive or even enslaved. But much of what we are, belongs to Mother Africa. We need to respect and have esteem, knowledge and curiosity. Then, open your eyes to understand a little more. Do not accept this cultural void created by that ethnocentric feeling!

The poets carry feelings, delivering desires and dispatching dreams. Even if sometimes they need pack some sorrows, distill several disappointments and filter strange nightmares.

We live in an illusion of safety while we hide in caves made ​​of glass looking for trees of concrete. Even our music resounds with the drums of the past.

Faced with so much ignorance and prejudice currently I can only comment that Facebook is a breeding ground for the worst fruits of our coarse personality.