Morning :)

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A great gash had opened in the nation, bleeding. Bleeding. Among the once busy streets now stood soldiers. These - these - boys with their shiny rifles! They had no skin in the game. But they found themselves in the very epicentre of violence, all because they were following orders. It was all banal! So, so banal… Years of work, years of following ‘The Road’... only to be undone by some orders! These were just young men who… were still naive about ideas like hierarchy, and discipline! They had all of these ideas about authority - but not a single one of them had any backbone. A spine to at least stand up for the Chilean Road. For our democracy. No. Not a single one. That's why they found themselves with fixed bayonets against women and children. Those boys, even with their guns, were still so small.

That’s why I’m here, crashing about in the suburbs and not in Santiago. My father… was a trade unionist. There was a coup. My God, I was only… five. Yes, imagine that. A time like that - of incredible violence for a small thing like I was. It has burned itself up here, my old noggin. All of it, I remember it. The fighting. The death. I shouldn’t tell you, a memory so painful. But look around the world today. Please, just look at it. It is my responsibility to tell you now, of how people were trampled, how they disappeared without a trace. These protestors, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers - they don’t exist anymore. You can only find them in the memory of friends and family that have graying hair. They only exist in the memory of those lucky enough to escape. Lucky ones… like me.

It all began on September 11th. Not 2001. 1973. I don’t remember anything before that, only small-talk. Small-talk about disorder and strife. Small-talk about Chile coming to the seams. These euphemisms, about Chile coming by the wire, the thread, the string, rolled on and on until it became real. It was as if the nation transformed in an instant. A flash that had morphed the world into something uglier, darker. Jet fighters zipped across the blue sky. Then the radios stopped, with crackling transmissions and inevitable silence. Then the tanks rolled, with trucks full of soldiers. Then, on the TV we saw them. The generals, the suits, the admirals who were so willing to throw away human lives for their ‘public order’. They spoke of a cancer that had plagued us, when it was they that shirked all morals and made our national stadiums into death camps. It was they that turned the La Moneda Palace into ashened husk.

For once, in my life - the football fields were empty. There was no singing. Only a prayer. Little me asked for God. I begged for God to come. To extinguish the raging flames. But the flames kept on, never ceasing.

❤️
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   .(.•´
.❤️.❤️..                 
(¯`v´¯) ღ (¯`v´¯)  ❤️
*`•.¸ (¯`v´¯)¸.•´*
   ღ ❤️ `•.¸.•´ ❤️ ღ  Տթɾìղƙℓєʂ...
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✿ ❤️ ✿ ╠╣ave Ꭿ Beautiful Ɖay! ✿ ❤️ ✿
Thank you for watering our garden Teresa & Leah !!!

Happy Friday, Teresa

sprinkle xxx

Morning sprinkles and a magpie spotted xx