The Unidentifiable beauty of Spring.
Life just brightens up a bit, doesn’t it, when the temperature rises, the sun claims a few more hours to shine each day and raindrops are more often driven back into the clouds. Not that anything really changes, certainly not. Annoying people keep being the assholes they’ve always been, politicians are still politicians, bullets are still killing people and, although the sun is browning their skin a bit, racists will stay convinced of being part of a supreme race. The roads around the villages are still paved with vibrating bumps and holes in the old tarmac, the monthly income provides the wallet with a content for two and a half weeks, the agents from MEO still try to sell a new contract every second day by computer randomized calls, Mariana Mortágua still makes sensible statements that aren't taken seriously by the corrupt political elite and I’m holding on to that bluezy dark feeling that winter brought a few seasons ago. The punishment for the enjoyment of a few sunny days come...