Chapter 40 – HEAR GORGEOUSNESS? FORGET THEM IMMEDIATELY!
The cruelest weapon available to human evil, held back by fears of sanctions and the barriers that still separate the territories of harmonious coexistence and the arena of all violence, has been to speak ill of the other. Where there are more than two people and something to be disputed, however worthless, it can be expected that, in that case, one of the three will fall victim to the poisonous tongue of the other two.
A dark, accurate weapon that costs nothing, it is used who knows how many times a day in all segments of modern-day tragicomedy. Preferred by the fearful, cowards and those who only feel good when they act in the shadows, gossip imposes a lot of suffering on those who are victims of it, a fact that is aggravated by virulence and contamination, which makes, in a short time, a person be execrated by all the others, and from there for the worse.
Make a difference that protects and supports people's lives by "cutting" the slimy current of backbiting just by keeping quiet and not commenting on anyone else! Imagine how many currents of propagation of poisonous matter you will avoid just by shutting up and letting what has been said die in your most volatile memory!
The slander of films well suited to Tarantino's taste and his bloodbaths on the screens was what led Elizimara to the world of endless silence and endless despair. She lived very close to the house where I spent most of my growing up, in the Laranjeiras neighborhood, south of Rio de Janeiro. At the time, I was 14 years old, but I was already bothered by the swarm of malicious comments that came from the Italian and Portuguese matrons who sat every day, around four in the afternoon, in front of the doors of their houses, watching everything and above all pouring cauldrons of poisons in the recipe each contributed with the extract of the two unhappy lives.
About Elizimara, a pretty girl who lived alone in one of the houses (I think the 15th house…), it was said that she had a lover every week, who kept her and locked her up under keys, since, poor thing, she barely left the house once or another to buy bread to eat along with his solitude. One day it became known that the gentleman who visited her every week was her father, who mourned with her the loss of his wife, Elizimara's mother, victim of slow tuberculosis that kept her hospitalized in a clinic in Campos do Jordão (SP). In fact, Elizamara was the daughter of a love that was not formalized with marriage, an attack on the good customs of the 1960s, since her father was married and could not publicly assume the relationship with his mother, but he took care of them while he lived. and as far as I don't know, because at 14 years of age we are still not very sensitive to the problems of existence, more entertained with football and the rolimã car.
Keep following the series
Prev Chapter 40 Next
Go to the first chapter
