Andres C S Masini One day of these, walking for the street Rio Grande Do Sul, I saw two adolescents at a distance. They came
walking side by side, of the skill that all the friends had always made, but something had of different: They did not speak between itself, they do not smile, they did not gesture. They did not show none of the trejeitos and so gracious expressions that the young women show when talk on boys, or clothes, or other things more. Its eyes came motionless, lost in some abstract distance. In them it did not have interest for that it was in return; they did not see the way, the trees, the sidewalk, the people... They were two healthful young, walking with its physical bodies there gifts, but with its lost minds in some etéreo place, very far from there... Each one of them spoke in a
cellular telephone, that was insured with the opposing hand to the side that the friend was. Its heads were come back toward the devices, one giving the coasts to the other. Thus they had passed for me and they had disappeared in the distance. I set to
remember as they were my returns for house, after the lesson, in my adolescence: To walk, to wait the bus, to seat, to observe the window... everything in absolute silence. It is certain that for times I stow anxious to arrive, to take off the uniform, to find the friends of the street... but he did not have nothing that I could make to arrive faster. It was not my reach to modify the rhythm of that passage. I accustomed that, at that moment of the day, I had that to aquietar me; e daily I repeated that trip in silence, only observing what it had in return... Today, I remember those passages where "it did not have nothing to make" as some of the moments gostosos of my youth. It can seem a against-sense... but, perhaps, the running of the other moments has been so great, that I nor have perceived them to pass. In the school it did not have one instant to breathe. In house it had the friends, thousand of things to make, the television... Perhaps those surrados passages of gone and come back have been the only instants where I really stow with me; e until today I remember nitidamente some of the thoughts that had occurred me there. He is clearly that during the trips I did not have nothing of "urgent" saying to nobody. But if I had had in hands a "fantastic device" as a "cellular telephone", with certainty "urgent things" would have appeared, and those important moments of that today I remember myself, never would have existed. He is curious as the time modifies the things. Looking at it stops backwards, we discover that almost everything that we imagined "urgent" very had in the truth little importance, and that some small things that seemed "insignificant" were everything what really mattered. I observe mine cachorrinha, that it passes great part of the only lying day in the sofa: alert, but without making nothing absolutely. For the globalizado world of today, this seems an unacceptable "loss of time", but I, slowly, start to understand that this is the Life! We, human beings, seem to have an inclination to prevent these moments of introspection, that are the Life, and to search incessant distractions: tvs, cellular, computers, "communication"... He is not ironic that all this "communication" finishes in moving away from we ourselves... and them other people... e, in last instance, it world? I pass my days in an eddy, the InterNet, taking care of of the House of the Culture, hardwired with the four cantos of the world. But when the day finishes I have the clear sensation of that I did not make nothing absolutely, and, above of everything, of that I did not live! Another day, my Talita son, of two years, started to cry in the hour to sleep. To calm it, I made with my hand one ours known personage that we call "the animal". It stopped to cry, she hugged "the animal", and if she calmed. But he did not sleep. for more than one hour I was to the side of the cradle, of extended arm, offering to it company to it of the "animal". Daqui the twenty years, I know that nothing I will remember the thousands of days that I passed in frantic activity in the InterNet... but never I will forget that hour of absolute calm, in the dark one, with my son and "the animal". We must have care with the "fantastic resources" of the modern world. Therefore the Life that exists in each one of us does not need them, but it needs the time absolutely that they steal of nós.André C S Masini One day of these, walking for the street Rio Grande Do Sul, I saw two adolescents at a distance. They came walking side by side, of the skill that all the friends had always made, but something had of different: They did not speak between itself, they do not smile, they did not gesture. They did not show none of the trejeitos and so gracious expressions that the young women show when talk on boys, or clothes, or other things more. Its eyes came motionless, lost in some abstract distance. In them it did not have interest for that it was in return; they did not see the way, the trees, the sidewalk, the people... They were two healthful young, walking with its physical bodies there gifts, but with its lost minds in some etéreo place, very far from there... Each one of them spoke in a cellular telephone, that was insured with the opposing hand to the side that the friend was. Its heads were come back toward the devices, one giving the coasts to the other. Thus they had passed for me and they had disappeared in the distance. I set to remember as they were my returns for house, after the lesson, in my adolescence: To walk, to wait the bus, to seat, to observe the window... everything in absolute silence. It is certain that for times I stow anxious to arrive, to take off the uniform, to find the friends of the street... but he did not have nothing that I could make to arrive faster. It was not my reach to modify the rhythm of that passage. I accustomed that, at that moment of the day, I had that to aquietar me; e daily I repeated that trip in silence, only observing what it had in return... Today, I remember those passages where "it did not have nothing to make" as some of the moments gostosos of my youth. It can seem a against-sense... but, perhaps, the running of the other moments has been so great, that I nor have perceived them to pass. In the school it did not have one instant to breathe. In house it had the friends, thousand of things to make, the television... Perhaps those surrados passages of gone and come back have been the only instants where I really stow with me; e until today I remember nitidamente some of the thoughts that had occurred me there. He is clearly that during the trips I did not have nothing of "urgent" saying to nobody. But if I had had in hands a "fantastic device" as a "cellular telephone", with certainty "urgent things" would have appeared, and those important moments of that today I remember myself, never would have existed. He is curious as the time modifies the things. Looking at it stops backwards, we discover that almost everything that we imagined "urgent" very had in the truth little importance, and that some small things that seemed "insignificant" were everything what really mattered. I observe mine cachorrinha, that it passes great part of the only lying day in the sofa: alert, but without making nothing absolutely. For the globalizado world of today, this seems an unacceptable "loss of time", but I, slowly, start to understand that this is the Life! We, human beings, seem to have an inclination to prevent these moments of introspection, that are the Life, and to search incessant distractions: tvs, cellular, computers, "communication"... He is not ironic that all this "communication" finishes in moving away from we ourselves... and them other people... e, in last instance, it world? I pass my days in an eddy, the InterNet, taking care of of the House of the Culture, hardwired with the four cantos of the world. But whe