Thousand

Realizing that the world is here.

Because every time I have a different wish. Have I already said about the ribbons?
And my sang comes, that same music always:
"Tire seu sorriso do caminho, que eu quero passar com a minha dor."
There isn't so much pain as it says, but so many smiles. Smiles from the past present and even future.
I have already played and sang the melody with so many ways that I discover each time a world of possibilities, of ways, of selves.
And then I come to the old story that a human being is all human beings. The same human that is in me, is in the beggar on the street who I meet every day wishing her a good morning. Her "good morning" is better than mine, it happens because she found something that I don't find. And I confess that many people in my routine also don't find that.
I want to be a thousand. I want to be just one. For a while, I am just the murmur of people passing on the streets, I'm one that passes, the doorman, a neighbor, a beggar. I am them and they, a piece of me.