And what will come after the night?

And the night came ... how much uncertainty, how much violence, do we live on a tightrope, what the day will bring us? .. we do not know now more than ever is when the Great Change of the World seems to approach, and the worst is that he has dressed in his most odious clothes and is taking out not his nails, but his claws .. I va arribar la nit ... quanta incertesa, quanta violència, vivim en una corda fluixa, que ens espera en el dia que va a arribar? .. no ho sabem ara més que mai és quan el Gran Canvi del Món sembla acostar-se, i el pitjor és que s'ha vestit amb les seves robes més odioses i aquesta traient no les seves ungles, si no les seves urpes ... Y llego la noche... cuanta incerteza, cuanta violencia, vivimos en una cuerda floja, que nos depara el dia que va a llegar? .. no lo sabemos ahora mas que nunca es cuando el Gran Cambio del Mundo parece acercarse , y lo peor es que se ha vestido con sus ropas mas odiosas y esta sacando no sus uñas, si no sus garras... By nekrokris

Llibertad... Freedom...

Tinc una foto al mur de les meves xarxes socials. Ahir vaig somiar que avui desapareixeria, però em sembla que va a estar ahi de per vida... Conclusió per avui: Igual que va morir la Democràcia fa mesos, amb ella es va dur el més bell que té l'home la llibertat. Així doncs ja no hi ha presos polítics ara per a mi hi ha polítics segrestats per les lleis estatals. I have a photo on the wall of my social networks ... yesterday I dreamed that today would disappear, but I think it will be there for life Conclusion for today: Just as Democracy died months ago, with it took the most beautiful thing that man has freedom. So there are no political prisoners now for me there are politicians kidnapped by state laws. By nekrokris

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A dream or nightmare....

Last night I had a dream or nightmare ... weird dark, I did not want to remember it again, but they say that writing or talking about it, helps to forget it. I was walking through Barcelona, ​​it looked like Paseo de Gracia, I'm sure, the streets were empty of vehicles, only people walking in silence ... there was not a sound, not even the one they made while walking, they passed by me side but without touching me, ,,,, when you get to Calle Aragon, in one of its corners, where La Cros used to be, there was something in its entrance that was half hidden by people, who passed by, stopped, watched and followed with that walk without a destination, so I saw them. I wanted to know what was causing them to stop and observe, to cross the street and finally I could see what was on the sidewalk at the entrance of that building ... there was simply a tumulus with four large candles lit and on top of a coffin open ... not wanted to look what contained inside but something inside me called to do it ... and look, what I saw inside really blew my blood, the bier was full of pieces badly cut fabric , mixed with each other, there were three flags, La Senyera, La Española and Estelada ... I was stuck there, but then I followed my way aimlessly as all the people around me ... and so I woke up. By nekrokris

Only one phrase...

Today I would stay with a single sentence of Albert Camus! "It was in Spain where my generation learned that one can be right and be defeated, that force can destroy the soul, and that sometimes courage does not get rewarded" Del dia d'avui em quedaria amb una sola frase d'Albert Camus !!!! "Va ser a Espanya on la meva generació va aprendre que un pot tenir raó i ser derrotat, que la força pot destruir l'ànima, i que de vegades el coratge no obté recompensa"

La calle es nuestra " Al carre es nostra"

Dicen "Al carre es nostra" "La calle es nuestra" No espereis violencia contra violencia ya sea escrita, de palabra o de obra.... si vuestras armas son esas, todo estara perdido ,porque los movimientos pacificos, el no entrar en dialogos morbidos y desagradables para contestaros o incitaciones al odio ya sea de palabra o de obra... no es nuestra meta y si es la vuestra escribireis, hablareis o incitareis al aire que os rodea, no a nosotros... vuestra consigan es "a por ellos" la nuestra es simplemente no entrar en el juego... eso hizo Gandhi y salio con todo su pueblo del yugo de Inglaterra...lo hizo en silencio y sin luchar, su unica arma la sonrisa, la paciencia y la fuerza espiritual... Que leccion estan dando nuestro jovenes, que tienen la sangre caliente como cualquier adolescente, pero estan dotados de un cerebro que piensa y quieren tener un futuro, que parece que se les esta negando... hay que abrir nuevas puertas dicen , y lo hacen en la calle, con risas y canticos... dicen que la calle es de ellos, y yo me pregunto si no es de ellos? de quien es? They say "Al carre es nostra" "The street is ours" Do not expect violence against violence either written, verbal or deed .... if your weapons are those, everything will be lost, because the peaceful movements, not entering into morbid and unpleasant dialogues to answer or incite hatred either of word or deed ... is not our goal and if it is yours you will write, you will speak or incite the air that surrounds you, not us ... your get is "for them" ours is simply not to enter the game ... that Gandhi did and left with all his people from the yoke of England ... he did it in silence and without fighting, his only weapon is the smile, the patience and the spiritual strength ... What lesson is our youth giving us? they have hot blood like any teenager, but they are endowed with a brain that thinks and wants to have a future, which seems to be being denied ... we have to open new doors, they say, and they do it in the street, with laughter and chants ... they say the street is theirs, and I wonder if it's not from them? whose is it?

This morning in old Barcelona ...

This morning in old Barcelona ... Dawn, the rain has stopped giving way to a cloudy autumn morning. I get stretched, the little light on the outside makes my sweet Dante who is sleeping at my feet wake up. Many days ago, I left my walks in those areas preferred by me, old Barcelona ... El Borne, Barrio Gotico, la Ribera ... why? fear? prudence? I suppose both. These places have been, along with downtown hot spots during these weeks of political turmoil. But this cloudy morning, has made me think, nothing and nobody will make me change habits, I have to be the same until the end. So with a cafe au lait and a desire to return to my old walks, I took the metro and got off at Arc de Triomphe, emblematic monument next to the Supreme Court Palace and taking a short walk I have reached the old Borne, cultural "CCM" there as I have always stopped to have a coffee in one of its lovely terraces, the climate invites even to be a while enjoying that special quiet that have those old quarters of my city, there I wrote those lines. The terraces with people as always, and a coming and going of foreigners, never fail here. The streets preparing cultural events, in a word Barcelona seems the usual, but only in its packaging ... because the silence reigns in general, the faces are pensive or tense, I would deceive if I said that I have not heard laughter, because I have heard them, but few and it is that the politicians have almost finished their work ... I curse them all. They have succeeded in not only partially erasing our smile in this sweet Catalunya, they have really succeeded in reviving that hatred buried in time, which has always marked our race, because wherever we are, this Iberian Peninsula lost in the Mediterranean has in its lands people like that, it needs very little to make reborn the beast of the past in the background I think we have been like this for millennia and we will never change. Some of us do not understand that hatred, that nationalism, so-called patriotism, because that's what our banner is made of, wherever they are, surrounded by those who are immersed in old and retro ideas. With these thoughts I have returned home after my relaxed walk but only with an idea in my mind ... to feel even further from this voragine and today more than I never wanted to say, that there is a way to live very well, feeling like I do it, because I have never been Catalan, Spanish or even European, if not citizen of a global world that although agonized is my only nest and I will never tire of repeating it. By nekrokris Esta mañana en la vieja Barcelona... Amanece, la lluvia ha cesado dando paso a una nublada mañana de Otoño. Me desperezo, la poca luz del exterior logra que mi dulce Dante que esta dormitando a mis pies va despertando. Hace muchos dias, que he abandonado mis paseos por esas zonas preferidas por mi, de la vieja Barcelona... El Borne, el Barrio Gotico, la Ribera... porque? miedo? prudencia? supongo que las dos cosas. Estos lugares han sido, junto con el centro de la ciudad lugares calientes durante estas semanas de agitacion politica. Pero esta nublada mañana, me ha hecho recapacitar, nada ni nadie va hacerme cambiar de habitos, he de ser la misma hasta el final. Asi pues con un cafe con leche y unas ansias de retomar mis antiguos paseos,he tomado el metro y he bajado en Arco del Triunfo, emblematico monumento al lado del Palacio del Tribunal Supremo y dando un corto paseo he llegado al viejo Borne, actual centro cultural "CCM"ahi como siempre he parado a tomar un cafe en una de sus acojedoras terracitas, el clima invita aun a estar un rato disfrutando de esa especial quietud que tienen esos barrios viejos de mi ciudad, ahi he escrito esas lineas. Las terracitas con gente como siempre, y un ir y venir de extranjeros, aqui nunca fallan. Las calles preparando eventos culturales, en una palabra Barcelona parece la de siempre, pero solo en su envoltorio... porque el silencio reina en general, los rostros estan pensativos o crispados, engañaria si dijera que no he escuchado risas, porque las he oido, pero pocas y es que realmente los politicos han terminado casi su labor.. a todos ellos los maldigo. Han logrado no solo borrar en parte nuestra sonrisa en esta dulce Catalunya, realmente han conseguido, revivir ese odio enterrado en el tiempo, que siempre ha marcado a nuestra raza, porque seamos de donde seamos, esta Peninsula Iberica perdida en el Mediterraneo, tiene en sus tierras gente asi, que necesita muy poco para hacer renacer la bestia del pasado en el fondo creo que asi hemos sido durante milenios y ya nunca cambiaremos. Algunos no entendemos ese odio, ese nacionalismo mal llamado patriotismo,porque de eso esta hecho nuestra de banderas sean de donde sean, enarvoladas por quienes esta inmersos en ideas viejas y retrogadas. Con esos pensamientos he vuelto a casa tras mi relajado paseo pero solo con una idea en mi mente... la de sentirme aun mas lejos de esta voragine y hoy mas que nunca quisiera decir, que existe una forma de vivir muy bien, sintiendose como yo lo hago, porque nunca he sido ni catalana, ni española ni tan solo europea,si no ciudadana de un Mundo global que aunque agoniza es mi unico nido y nunca me cansare de reptirlo. Por nekrokris