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Do you like literature? I'm writing something I'd love to sh..
🕑 Added 2024-03-28 19:17:44 +0000 UTC Do you like literature? I'm writing something I'd love to share with you.Tales from the stolen house, I'll post it daily if it pleases you.
It's slowly that one goes far, since moving forward and always straight ahead never gets one anywhere. And accepting the bizarre thesis of the esteemed prosecutor, ratified by the supreme federal court, whose jurisdiction, against the constitutional principle of natural judge, emerged decades after its original fixation and the final judgment of the provincial court, would imply accepting that we were nothing but usurpers, ruffians, prostitutes, and the lowest of the low in Curitiba.
And if doubts existed that the public authorities saw us as invaders in our own territory, one only needed to compare the frequency with which the military police ended conflicts with violent deaths in Vila Capanema and other areas: Água Verde, Alto da Glória, Cabral. It's not a lie that we are what's left. From this to deciding on our material or cultural extermination, using the most powerful weapons available to the market and the state, is at the discretion of the established authorities.
We believe the learned prosecutor, undoubtedly trained in the most beautiful of arts, which is language, would not intend to promote such gross accusations. Especially because she knows the beauty of the rhyme duels the piazada engage in the outskirts and, in their grand celebrations, when they fill the city's public buses to gather in the central regions of the city. As beautiful as the law made reality; seventy years are not seventy days. And it wouldn't be worth counting in years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, or seconds the time Paranistas dedicate cultivating love for their colors and symbols.
Once, the Guria from El Grullo, shaman of that valley, could witness that from the top of the Colorado viaduct, which passes over Engenheiros Rebouças and the Belém river, roughly at the height of the Paraná Environmental Institute - strategically located at this point of the river, given that Rebouças is a neighborhood with industrial tradition - one can see Vila Capanema. It's our temple that reveals Curitiba to flying visitors. For those who arrive by land, the relationship is inverse. The train line, which separates the bus station from Vila Capanema, establishes the safe limits of the city.
Madness follows that gurizada, who dedicate themselves to the colors of flesh, skies, and that constant absence that accompanies all that lives. Each day as if it were the last. In the four corners of Curitiba, they announced our end. We even got used to it: it's a joke, it's a jest. Perhaps the pandemic was a milestone, somewhat neglected by the public authorities of the time. The president even insisted that religious gatherings continue normally. The problem is that we were already few, and in death itself, we find the symbol of our passion.
A life is only worth living for a love for which it's worth giving everything. That's how we lost the eternal president of the Fúria Independente, a victim of a clumsy action by the mounted guard of the provincial military police of the governor. A true Rat, one with pedigree. Something must be recognized: honesty marked his father's career. He was a man of character, who played within the lines, as they said at the time. He started his career as an assistant to a charismatic television presenter, an enthusiast of violence as a tool for implementing the zero tolerance policy for crime - scum, the character would say.
Although there's little evidence of Rat's personal responsibility for the operation that led to the loss of one of our most important leaders, the state's responsibility is objective for the damages caused by its agents in the exercise of their typical functions. And these damages include, but are not limited to, material damages, with compensation guaranteed for moral damages. And if we're going to talk about governors who inherited the power of honest ancestors and misused their name and their military police, it would certainly be necessary to remember that feud in the middle of Nossa Senhora de Salete Square, known as The Battle of the Civic Center.
Soldiers and battalions from the remotest locations of the province closed ranks to ensure the passing of a bill of interest to the governor, which, in practice, would make it impossible to pay the pension benefits of those same officers who, without embarrassment and in broad daylight, attacked ladies and gentlemen civil servants of education and the judiciary, much to the delight of the state deputies. These would watch from their boxes the massacre promoted by the public security forces. Weeks earlier, the same deputies, cornered by a crowd outraged by the vote for an increase in the salaries of Paraná's parliamentarians, would resort to the military police vans of the governor to safely leave the legislative assembly, which didn't prevent some of them, taken by panic, from suffering intestinal convulsions during the rescue operation.
