Silence the weapons with flowers

He had seen the good side of the heart of that man and, even he had sacrificed himself to save him.

[1] Silence...

The diplomat went out of his house, closed the door and left. He knew the consequences, but there was a hope that he could solve that distressing problem with a sincere and open-minded dialogue. When he arrived, he took a deep breath and knocked the door of the house of the man whose indifference was hurting him.

The man inside asked who was knocking. The diplomat introduced himself and was ignored. He knocked the door once again. No one replied.

He insisted to knock the door a third time after begging “please”. Someone went downstairs and answered it. The diplomat got scared about what he saw. Even though he could foresee a possible hostility, he never thought the things would end up that way.

The man then said what the diplomat was getting ready to hear and, as if he was not hearing what the diplomat was saying, he came in defensive and with weapons on his hand. And, with no mercy, he shot the diplomat twice that fell down on the ground having, as a last memory, the darkest side that those man allowed himself to show.

[2] ...the weapons...

In that gray and sad Friday the priest did the last homages to the murdered diplomat. He was a honest, kind, generous man that used to see the human side of people, and he did believe that this side could bring those who was in darkness back to the light.

While his family was crying his death, the murder was not feeling anything about the diplomat, actually, he was having fun with a prostitute. Barely she knew these were her last minutes of life too.

[3] ...with flowers.

The population and the press did not want to understand the forgiveness words of the diplomat's sons to the murderer of their father, even they did not have exchanged a single word with him. For them, he could express his hate and they would not hate him anyway. Their father had gone, there was nothing to do. They were considered “fools” for many people but they knew their father would be proud of the attitude they had. He did not want his children to compensate a mistake making other and that harboring hate would just poison their hearts.

Someone lied flowers over the diplomat's grave in the middle of the night. It was not his kids, but an old friend. He got down on his knees and started to cry, regretful of the harm he caused. He was not alone. The diplomat was by his side, in spirit. That night mission was finally accomplished. He had seen the good side of the heart of that man and, even he had sacrificed himself to save him, he had set that man free of what was killing him and everybody around.

ERIC CLAPTON & ROGER WATERS - Wish You Were Here by petersonflr

Learning how to die

You will learn how to die in order to learn how to resuscitate.

So this is the death. The coffee and the bread do not swallow down due to the lump in the throat. The hot shower could last forever. So did the rest if it were not for the flashback moments that never happened, but it was a dream in black and white, with no Sun, no heat, no touch, no caress. Sleeping in the middle of the night and relieving the last hope minutes. But here I am, alive. Dead but alive. Maybe I am at the Limbo.

We are dying every moment. It sounds tragic, do not you think? But we die because we are changing, the world is changing, the people and with them, our dreams and feelings. It is not the same thing as it was once ago. Sometimes it can the good, a blessing in disguise. And sometimes, the death is slow and painful. You implore to the Death to take you away, but she watches everything, indifferent, polishing her fingernails with her legs crosses, sat in a bench.

That is why we should be prepared to die. Every one will have to find their point of balance sooner or later, like it or not. I am trying to avoid creating expectations in order to not get hurt while I pursue my dreams. Or desires, needs, whatever, only in the end I will know what was it and at the Limbo, I will figure it out. If you do not prepared yourself, it is going to ache unbearably. You will fall and the world will not stop to wait you stand up. If you are prepared, yes, it is going to hurt, but soon you will recover and reborn from the ashes.

Phoenix. It dies and reborn from its ashes, always beautiful with its red fire color. Always.

Dying is not easy, it is not nice, none of us wants to die. But the death is a lesson, a learning. Yes, my friend, life is sadist and expose us to the pain for us to learn how to die. You will learn how to die to learn how to resuscitate. Its medicine has a bitter taste, the time. Dying is not the end, but a new begin, learn with your mistakes but never, ever corrupt your soul, your essence, yourself, to people who does not have patience, tolerance and that refuses to love and respect you the way you are. Dying is not the opportunity to revenge, but the opportunity to be humble and recognize mistakes and forgive the others and ourselves. We are human beings, we make mistakes and we kill sometimes people we love, with or without intention, for them to have the opportunity to reborn.