I wake up every morning and look around myself. Today, instead of being surprised and happy for having one more day to live, I quickly realized the big mess I am still living in. Despite my good life-style, through my windows, I can see hundreds of poor people sleeping on the stools of the dirty abandoned square that was built a few years ago in front of my building. That really spoils all my expectations of having a cheerful day.
I switched on my television and the news was the same of yesterday: people fighting, people dying, high technological devices being developed daily, war, money, crisis, rape, children exploitation, new findings in medicine promising to heal people… I turned off the television.
This entire situation seems to bother me and I cannot eat, do my work or take a shower. I stopped by the window and I could see some little boys playing in the square. They were running and laughing. Apparently happy, they were playing hide-and-seek, but all I could do was to think about the unhappiness of their lives. Are they really unhappy? I finally wondered.
What is happiness after all? Is it living alone in a luxurious apartment with a lot of money to spend and seeing that all your friends are busy working or spending their own money?
I suddenly opened the window and screamed to the boys “– Hey, kids, are you happy?” From the eighth floor, they couldn’t possibly understand what I had shouted, however they looked at me and smiled.
I closed the window, went to the kitchen, took a glass of water and questioned myself. Who are the ones who make the world? Who makes it sad? Who makes it happy? I thought, is it me, you, or possibly us?
In the end of the day some wealthy people go to bed, lay their heads on soft pillows and before they fall asleep remember they had another horrible day in their life, while some of the poor ones sleep on the concrete beds thanking God for one more day of existence - one more day in which they built castles with cardboards and made feast with leftover scraps of foods.
I switched on my television and the news was the same of yesterday: people fighting, people dying, high technological devices being developed daily, war, money, crisis, rape, children exploitation, new findings in medicine promising to heal people… I turned off the television.
This entire situation seems to bother me and I cannot eat, do my work or take a shower. I stopped by the window and I could see some little boys playing in the square. They were running and laughing. Apparently happy, they were playing hide-and-seek, but all I could do was to think about the unhappiness of their lives. Are they really unhappy? I finally wondered.
What is happiness after all? Is it living alone in a luxurious apartment with a lot of money to spend and seeing that all your friends are busy working or spending their own money?
I suddenly opened the window and screamed to the boys “– Hey, kids, are you happy?” From the eighth floor, they couldn’t possibly understand what I had shouted, however they looked at me and smiled.
I closed the window, went to the kitchen, took a glass of water and questioned myself. Who are the ones who make the world? Who makes it sad? Who makes it happy? I thought, is it me, you, or possibly us?
In the end of the day some wealthy people go to bed, lay their heads on soft pillows and before they fall asleep remember they had another horrible day in their life, while some of the poor ones sleep on the concrete beds thanking God for one more day of existence - one more day in which they built castles with cardboards and made feast with leftover scraps of foods.
Um comentário:
O que é felicidade?
Quem é feliz? Quem não é?
O que é ser feliz..?
Bons questionamentos.
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