Not many days ago a strong polar air mass arrived in Brazil. I wanted to say "hit" because it seems to me that it hit as a target, aggressive and violent. This cold front arrived and showed me a helplessness that I did not know. You see, I have a house, a roof, a blanket and a coat, but I felt somehow vulnerable.
I faced harsher winters, winters of negative temperatures. I was not sick or afraid. It also had a roof, proper clothing, breaks for a hot drink, and a heated shelter. But when this insane mass arrived here last week, it found me scared.
On the first night, predicted to be the beginning of the lowest temperatures, I woke up almost every hour checking the temperature, which dropped by one degree every hour. I usually look at the weather practically every day, maybe out of curiosity, maybe out of an attempt to plan. However, the constant awakening of this cold night was something different, related to a certain incredulity.
When I realized that the temperature was dropping, going to markings that I didn't remember seeing here, in the darkness of the night I widen my eyes and wonder what we are doing, as humanity. Where are we going to stop? I remembered reading during the day a brief explanation about global warming, that the more heat we send to Antarctica, the colder it will send us. Action, reaction. I feel, then, in a dystopia.
I add this to all the other terrifying news of recent times, which leave an impression on my body and affection. I am sure that we are indeed living in strange times, in which many radical and decisive events take place and in which we seem paralyzed, inert. I feel a deep helplessness. On this cold night, the cold makes me fragile, broken. And the late nights are always serious.
I think of the community that has formed near the university with countless shacks, children who walk around barefoot, many naked. I think of the obscene temple that was erected next to this community. I think of the indecency of misery, struck now - and for the next few days - by a merciless cold. I think that, in fact, we are merciless, merciless and inhuman are the rulers who work only for their own benefit.
With the departure of that polar mass, I see how it has anthropomorphized for me. It has become almost a visit that spends a few days and leaves leaving news, warning about so many things. There is a certain relief, but it is a fact that its weight and its volume have left a mark on me, which still intrigues me.
