There are people…
In the different corners of the world and throughout the planet, in the parts and in the whole, it so happens that there are people like this… people
Who say “NO”, when the majority nods with resigned disinterest.
Who raise their forehead, when the majority bows it.
Who disbelieve, when the official creed is imposed on the majority.
Who have principles, when the majority conjures up alibis.
Who seek truth and justice, while the majority is lost.
Who walk to find, when most sit and wait.
Who put up a fight, when the majority just gives up.
Who say something when they speak, although the majority only repeats.
Who, when looking in the mirror, find themselves, while majorities demand that they lose themselves to them.
Who lay awake, even though the majority sleeps.
Who give themselves completely, while the majority administer themselves.
Who are insubordinate, when the majority complies.
Who are unequal to something, while the majority remain similar.
Who listen today to the gloomy sound of tomorrow, although most only hear the noise of the false past.
Who are dissatisfied, while the majority resign themselves.
Who open their eyes, although most close them.
Who shout, while the majority is deafened by slogans.
Who make their way, fighting through the debris, the blood, the bones, the mud and scum, choosing destiny, rhythm, and company, while the majority swallows the toads who appear on the well-trodden route of lies.
Who neither forgive nor forget, although the majority professes the religion of apathy.
Who think critically, while the majority consults the fashionable dogma.
Who fight because it is their duty, and not to be part of the majority.
Who are just a crack, when the majority becomes a wall.
Those people. So small. So different. So diverse. So few. So necessary.
Those people are there. Even if they are not named, even if the eyes of Power do not take them into account, even if they are not heard up above, even if they do not appear in surveys and statistics.
Those people…
For them our heart.
Our ears attentive to their gaze.
Our word searching for them.
Our common embrace despite geographies and calendars.
For them, and with them, the festival of encounters…
From the mountains of the Mexican Southeast.
The Captain.
Mexico, October 2024.
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