A pandemic wasn’t enough, now a war. I feel that the limits of what is acceptable for maintaining mental health, a fine line by the way, are being frayed day by day. There are those who say that the Earth’s rhythm is accelerated and that, therefore, we would be living something similar to the so-called “out of orbit”. Who am I to doubt? It’s all really crazy.
But the fact is, waking up and reading the news doesn’t bother me anymore. Despite still listening to a podcast or another, I opt for momentary alienation. It is uncomfortable to see the media profit from destruction so voraciously. I’m not saying that the war shouldn’t be reported, quite the contrary, it’s just that, as I said, I fight to stay healthy. Furthermore, I perceive a certain exaggeration in the coverage of the tragedy. It’s just me? Jovem Pan radio even published video game images claiming to be the Russian bombings.
If the warlords don’t like the people, they shouldn’t stick to the beauties of life either. If war dehumanizes men, it will never be glorified by any manifestation whatsoever of imposing and beautiful nature. Men of war are concerned with capital, status, and territories.
Yesterday, however, updating myself on the world of surfing and not the War took me to Nazaré. This one is truly powerful. Nazaré, it seems that she arrives like this, so queen, so self-possessed, so powerful to inform sick men, that no matter how many wars there are, she will be there, always there.
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