I had nice people in front of me at all reading clubs. Not rich. Aware that they belonged to the working class, even if they were middle-class. I'm sure on a daily basis with quite a few headaches. And I only needed four minutes to say capitalism, to predict apocalypse. Zenezesidade. They weren't worth it.

And to you too what. Always angry. Always disabled. And now, starting to think, I would say, sure, there are no escapes. In economics, in the environment, in war issues… Capacity to consume unique rights, ecological, rich, independent, with capacity to pollute infinite, flooded. Nor are we a Ukrainian middle class on the eve of the war. Small built about to get lost from day to day.

You don't deserve it. Neither do I. Especially if we do not see a solution. If we cannot achieve neither the dose of violence that would require the only solution we see. Because violence at that time would be violated by our partners.

But the day before the tragedy is worth taking a pintxo to the heat of the sun. I don't know if a potato tortilla with jamonyorktagazte, with a must (as Martinia asks all day we don't have). Maybe tasting the first book of Arrula. Finish the story. Look around. Sighing. Become a helium balloon to fight tragedy. Record in case. But fast. Celebrate something. Find something to celebrate. Always.