The first years of XXI century will be remembered as The Year of Fear (nothing to do with the title of the novel by Juan Eslava Galán) .
Everyone is afraid. Fear has become the master of the situation. One need only look around a bit with some critical and some irony to cope with the rush of endorphins negative (not if any) that dominates the planet from the attack on the World Trade Center that fateful 11, remember.
century changes are never given mathematically by the numbers. They are always important events that give the starting signal.
What happens is that now everything is going so fast that when historians, political scientists, journalists, economists and Lola witch and it was clear that the fall of the Berlin Wall was going to be the turning point, there are some crazy (not if quietly) on a plane and send it all to hell.
From then until now, fear is the true protagonist of our lives and not the crisis that is only the armed wing, the really sticky and sweet nothing.
Amsterdam: hundreds of people gather in a square for a minute of silence for the dead do a year in the Queen's Day (or at most is revealed as an extraordinary silent film actress on that bus.) Heard a noise behind her and the avalanche occurs. Dozens injured. In the end it was nothing. Just a noise.
Spain: an exemplary citizen called the police scared to death (aka the cops) because he hears the screams of his neighbor while repeating over and over again "to kill me, you're going to kill you." The blue jacos occur in the home of the good lady and yes. Were killing ... to dust. I hope it be a lesson to change their habits fuckers in the future. Yes, apparently seen that does not change as a lover.
From now no longer I worry more when my neighbor's scream as if they were opening in channel rusty pruning shears. I never cared. I knew she was happy ... as a partridge.
London was made public (they are also eager to fuck) McQueen's autopsy. Coca, tranquilizers and sedatives with the result we all know. What surprises me is that he was able to commit suicide with such a hodgepodge in the stomach and head but the fear is what you have, you draw strength from where there are none. In this case who knows what the source of fear.
I am no exception, I have also my fears, but in truth, little or nothing to do with the rest. Except for obvious reasons, which all have related to illness, death, family and close friends my recurring fears can be summarized as:
The Vatican Ltd in general.
A creeping reptiles (not even think or write.) The Anorexic
Nancy (aka Aznar). A Hello Kitty
A Luis Miguel when he sings boleros. Well, Luis Miguel when he sings.
Anything that leads lycra.
For the ignorant (for hazardous and tiring).
People with no sense of humor.
At the humorists.
A clowns (uuuuuuuuhh). The SGAE
A nationalist extremists.
Extremists of any sign. Being human
when ceasing to be proposed.
For the champions of the animals.
The Family Forum.
A Modesto Lomba.
A Pedro Ruiz.
The professor Neira (perhaps the teacher will come a little large ...)
To the unknown to those who can not stop looking.
To those who want it all and never have enough.
Those who have only one idea in his head that leaves them no room for more.
A blank page.
But mostly, I have to be afraid because fear paralyzes, because it absorbs the best of you you dry. Because it forces you running front pushing for nothing. Why do you hate when you do not know. Because it keeps alive.
The century just begun. I do not see a new but perhaps still not too late to relegate to fear instead, to not let it lead us, for you to regain that ... how was it? Ah, yes. Defender la Alegría.