Help those suffering in the Horn of Africa

Monday, October 31, 2011

The tin man.

I've heard there is a place inside the humans called the heart, or so they say. They point their chests and make strange grimaces while they express their emotions. The heart, they told me, is both a treassure and a curse, they all seem to protect it obsessively because once it hurts, it hurts for real, and it's difficult to cope with that.

Every human knows how to draw a heart, but they have never seen it, and they also think it is red. They cannot explain what the heart does, yet they can tell you when something is happening to it. How does it feel to have a heart? Where can you get one? How can something so ethereal, so ephimerous can be such a powerful element? I have seen these creatures being raised to heaven or completely crushed by their hearts. They keep fighting the will of their hearts with the mighty powers of their intelligence and make themselves unhappy. Seldomly do they really listen to their hearts, they are afraid of what will happen if they do.

Those poor humans, they think they get to choose, they think the rules that apply for us are not the same as the ones for them. They clinge to certainty because they are afraid to really live, to choose, to use their hearts. They are so stupid that they do not realize sometimes their intelligence is not suited to deal with some problems.

They were gifted with a heart, a heart that can produce enough heat to warm up a winter day, a heart that can water the driest lands and quench the worst of the thirsts. A gift so powerful that could cause some harm. That's why they are afraid to use it, because amidst the blessings, there is a risk, the risk of being hurt and therefore wait until they have the certainty that they are not going to be hurt, they sit still until the circumstances comply with the rules.

That is why they feel unhappy, because they live with their minds. They were chosen to carry the biggest of the hearts in the animal kingdom, and they rarely use it. I wonder if it still works. Haven't you seen how dogs use their little hearts? I once read that their heart is not even half the size of that one of a human, yet it works twice as much. They want to have a heart yet they run away from the obligations that demands.

I wish I had a heart. I wish I could feel the joy of using a heart so that later, when sorrow comes, I could be sure there are great times in life... I really wish I had a heart.

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