Mercy, my God, where are we going to stop like that? All truck drivers in the country went on strike indefinitely, they demand the removal of heavy taxes imposed by the government on the category or otherwise they will remain with their arms crossed. As I hardly watch television I was completely unaware of what is happening outside that damn neighborhood. It is already on the second day of the strike and the whole nation is already beginning to feel the negative reflexes of the absence of these professionals.

We sometimes overlook this class of workers, but it is at that time that we see the great importance they have for the perfect commercial functioning of the entire country. The news doesn't talk about anything else. It started to lack everything in fairs, distribution centers and also in supermarkets. Gas stations are running out of stock and within a few hours vehicles will stop circulating. The queues are already immense looking for gasoline and diesel which, due to the scarcity, the user has to pay more for the products.

 Meanwhile, representatives of the striker category and the government are unable to understand each other or enter into an agreement that puts a definitive end to this chaos. It is always the same thing, each one pulling the rope in their favor and the people being damned. The government, as a selfish solution, raises taxes on workers to cover the gap in public coffers. Embarrassments made by corrupt politicians. In contrast, this working class revolted after several unsuccessful attempts at negotiations.

Now that the truck drivers have decided to stop their activities to force government officials to look more respectfully at the category, the governing summit gathers to discuss a way out of the very serious problem. Meanwhile, we, who pay our taxes, are the most affected by the scarcity of food and rising fuel prices. Now there's nothing more you can watch on TV, just talk about that damn strike.

The worst thing is that the filth on TV is one of those very old ones, because the money is short and it was not yet possible to buy a more modern one. Well, better to let go of this hell mess and get back to my old routine. After all, what good will it do me to burn the lens of my eyes following bad news? It will do me no good to see the strike of a revolted people against corrupt and ambitious rulers.

When they are concerned only with their own interests. The day today started lively, it sucks for another holiday where people around here are straightforward. And the crowd outside, mostly composed of unemployed or mules from the drug trade, have already started their usual riot.

 I, as always, remain holed up here in my shack just listening to the many songs for elbow pain that they usually put on while getting drunk. The country is in chaos and they are turning into dog horses.  Poor devils who live savoring the bitterness of their disappointments with each sip of beer.

Some in professional life, others in the family and there is still the group in which I identify myself, which is composed of those who, like me, took the horns of their loved one and vent their frustrations in alcohol. Well, but who am I to make such a comment or criticism, after all I am part of the same situation.

I can say that we are unworthy beings lucky to love or be loved and that we were born to suffer from passion. This year, summer came with everything, the temperature of almost forty degrees is leaving this shack a furnace and the use of fans does not solve, since the wind is very hot.

As not all of us who live in the lowlands are able to buy and use an air conditioner or an air central, the solution is to build wooden houses and leave some gaps. Of those very large between the boards to help with ventilation. In this way the air, even when heated, passes through the environment and helps in some way to relieve heat. Poor life is like that, a real calamity.

 While people like us survive hard in this hell the damned maharajas of politics are there in the National Congress. Creating absurd laws to defraud the less fortunate and diverting public money to their accounts in tax havens. They should be elected by the people to maintain the order and progress of the nation, however, they only think about getting along.

Allowing themselves and their families a life of privilege. And tranquility at the expense of the sweat of a people who kill themselves day and night to pay their taxes on time. Being Brazilian has never been a tremendous shame as it has been in the last few decades. An epidemic of corrupt politicians has spread and there seems to be no single ruler on whom we can trust. Presidential elections are approaching and, looking at the options we have, we have not found any candidate worth betting on.

We have nothing to take advantage of, we find from the old politicians who for decades try to take the leadership of the country to the newcomers who arrive using the same campaign strategies. Those who start political life are already trying to convince the people that they are the only solution, which is worth betting on their proposals.

It's the same slang as always — Bunch of bastards! — The best way to rebuild the economy is to reverse the government plans created by those on the left. Change everything that has been put into practice so far. But they always arrive with old campaign promises that, in practice, once elected are never fulfilled.

We Brazilians seem to be condemned to live with this political impudence. Situation that has placed us among the most corrupt nations in the world. Looking at the panorama around us, the despair that grips every Brazilian is enormous. On the one hand, the shameful reality of the chaotic situation in this country, consumed by the political traces that bring our economy almost to zero, condemning our people to a miserable life.

On the other hand, the high unemployment rate, the lack of a good education for our young people. And the lack of investments in the area of ​​health and public security that allows the population the right to come and go. Without running the risk of being the victim of robberies, kidnappings or losing your own life. We know that corruption and violence is not only a Brazilian situation, but injustice and impunity, yes.

All sorts of evil are committed all over the world, but the guilty are arrested, tried and paid for their mistakes. Here, there are even laws defending those who kill, steal and corrupt. How many billions have not been diverted from public coffers by past governments and the gang that aided them in power? How many were not injured and how is the current economic situation of the nation thrown to the bottom?

 And what has been done by the current government but to take the country further down the cliff? Increasingly worsening our already so difficult survival. It is so complicated that I prefer to stay here, as I am now, locked inside this shack. Sitting on that rough wood floor, drinking cheap wodka.

 Wandering between this or that thought to let time pass more quickly. I'm going to get up and take a look through the narrow window and see how things are on the street, through the noise it seems that the thing is very lively. Look who I came across at first, that hot neighbor's daughter who had the audacity to dismiss me.She dumped me even before I declared any interest to her. As soon as we started talking, the figure immediately said that I was not her type, as if she were the most interesting woman in the neighborhood.

Well, it is very true that she is really horny, but that was not the reason to humiliate a poor dog hungry for pleasure like me, who is on the rock. I am not close to intimate involvement with prostitutes. This business of having sex with women who go to bed with anyone and I don't like it all the time. I often say that a man should be supportive and share everything he has with his fellow man, except his wife. I prefer to stay on the rock for as long as it is, but I want a monogamous relationship. Just between my partner and me.

 As I imagined the street is filled with people, occupying dozens of tables and chairs in a party that had time to start, but will not have time to end. Better to close that window and settle down here in my lonely corner, all of us who live in the lowlands know how these parties endured by drug trafficking end, in the end someone always dies. It started in the afternoon and goes on until tomorrow morning — Prague for people to drink! Soon the confusion begins.

Usually with a lot of beating and a break from hell, whoever is nearby is at risk of being beaten for free. Not to mention that it is quite common that the silver car of the militia is killing those who meet ahead during the early hours. And now that the drug dealers and the police have decided to wage a power war in the city, that's when things got worse.

At all times we watch in the news that one more person was murdered, mostly military police. They became the main targets of the killers after the Secretary of State for Security made threats to fight crime hard. To exterminate drug trafficking for good. Now, they just need to know that a certain individual is part of the corporation and that's it, they send bullets.

And it doesn't have to be a man or a woman, they kill the same way. Several officers have already been executed in the first six months of the year, most were not even on active duty. They execute the military in their homes, in a bar with friends, on the beach or on the football field. No matter where they are, the order is to execute anyone wearing a uniform.

Even young people who are serving in the armed forces are on the list of criminals. Last week a boy of just nineteen who passed the navy contest was murdered as soon as the miscreants heard of his approval. The poor guy who dreamed of becoming an officer didn't even have the pleasure of wearing his uniform for a day.

 He did not experience what he was so proud of. This caused us revolt, we were outraged, it made us want to take justice into our own hands. But, doing what, is the law of trafficking that prevails and our authorities only threaten to react, but they are unable to do anything to avoid facts like this because they are unprepared and in lesser numbers.

If it were a young man from high society or, who knows, the son of one of those corrupt politicians, that would be fine. But, he was the son of a resident of the periphery, people who have no other option to survive but to remain in the middle of this den of sewage rats. In these invasions scattered throughout the city, like the scum of humanity — Damn you! — They say that vengeance belongs only to God and that if practiced by man it is sin. Mas, sinceramente, se eu pudesse saía por aí, metendo chumbo grosso nesses desgraçados. Charging for all the innocent lives they have already claimed in this filthy war.

Where people who have nothing to do with confusion end up being penalized, losing their relatives in endless violence. Mrs. Márcia is a good, hardworking person who has lived on the corner for many years. No one has ever had anything to complain about his conduct. She has always been a great example as a woman, mother and neighbor.

On the contrary, we can only praise. And Adalberto, the poor victim of these bad bastards, what can we say about him? The one that none of the inhabitants of the Baixada had anything against. Good boy, he liked to hit a ball with the guys here in the alley, he was smart.

The young man was a fighter like his mother and dreamed of one day improving his life in order to help his family. And when things finally start to work out, a wretch comes and spoils everything. It is heartbreaking to hear the sadness of that mother who was in tears when she saw her son's body lying in the mud puddle on the street. This caused pain in his chest and revolt in the population that has so far called for justice.

But, what justice? What authority in this country cares for poor wretches like us? We are just a handful of the cursed that we only serve to suffer. Do you know when the rulers remember us? When the election period comes, as it will happen this year. Damn it, there they appear from all sides with their campaign promises and engaging the unwary. Promising heaven and earth for the poor devils who live in the hope of better days. And they end up selling their votes for a plate of soup. I usually think that in paradise there must be two types of terrain from which God takes the clay to create lives.

Damn it? Yes, doesn't the bible say that we were made from the dust of the earth? Well, I believe in the theory of creation. And as I see it, the material used to bring the rich to life must be top notch. For they are born powerful with a skin like silk, unwavering health, colorful eyes, grow and become tall, healthy as a tree. On the other hand, the poor are born blind, crippled, mentally disturbed, their skin is stained and their stomachs are full of worms. It seems that God hates us.

And you want to know my opinion? I bet everything as we are the excrement up there, the feces of the angels. It is not for nothing that the most privileged treat us with disdain and we are placed as a platform for their feet. I think again about the title of that poor little pastor's book — Is it a blessing to be poor? What a bastard, son of a bitch! — What a great irony with the misery of others.

It is very easy to write a book stating that God values ​​those who live in the slums, starving and all kinds of needs. I just wanted to see if the author of such a work would give up all the wealth he has to come and live in this pigsty where I and many other people live. There are people who love to mock the less fortunate. Where are the blessings for poverty in which we find ourselves?

As far as I know what rains in the lives of the favelados is pain and suffering in the face of so many needs. Men and women coming and going from work every day with sweat running down their faces to support their families. Pay your bills with a miserable salary that can barely keep up with the monthly expenses.

Parents losing their children to drugs and trafficking in a society where opportunities for our young people are almost nonexistent. And, faced with this sad reality, they end up getting involved with violence and trafficking. So, yes, truck drivers and any other working class who join a strike have my full support. We need to demonstrate our dissatisfaction with this unfair form of government.

That only benefits those who come together for a single purpose: To join forces to increase corruption in this country, stealing our wealth. And with that, taking us more and more to misery. And here and there are still those who defend this shameful form of public management. Such people say with a clear face that in that den of mafia politicians you can still find good people.

Many appear on social networks calling for the population to go to the polls ready to make a conscious choice, giving their vote only to the clean record candidates. As if there was a politician in this mire of ambition who does not have his name impregnated by corrupt acts. Both those who have governed this nation before, and aspire to govern it now, are all flour from the same bag.

The goals are the same. Here in the neighborhood there is a woman named Dona Jô, a very influential person among the residents. She is running for deputy. It is well liked by the vast majority of the community. That's because she owns several supermarkets. She sells everything cheaply, in addition to helping many people who ask for help. But, wouldn't that kindness be a strategy to start a political career in the future? — Of course yes! — Nobody invests in the needy population in that country without any ambitious interest.

Poor devils, because they live in misery they are forced to exchange or sell their vows for a trifle. Honestly this is all disgusting. That Bahian singer said it well, when he was still minister of culture. By stating that most Brazilians exchange their votes for a plate of soup. Pure truth. Most voters sell their votes or exchange for almost nothing. But how could it be different in the face of the economic calamity in which we find ourselves?

This is the result of this robbery that spread to all sectors of the government class of that nation. After all, people need to survive and each will use the weapons they can to their advantage. Tonight there will be the first candidacy rally by such a defender of the poorest. A sound car has just passed announcing the event and inviting everyone to be present. One more with false promises for people hungry for improvement. This country is hopeless, one more hope lost in that World Cup.

 Again, these clubs disappoint us and barely reach the quarterfinals of the championship. They lost again in a shameful way and now they return home looking defeated. Well, at least it didn't take seven to one like four years ago. We Brazilians seem to be used to living like this from bad to worse.

One disappointment after another, it seems like a persistent curse that without any respite. In a few months, elections will arrive to choose new representatives in Brasilia. But the question that remains, is who should we choose if everyone is equally corrupt? It even makes you want to laugh, when I hear someone say that we need to know who to vote for, in order to elect clean slate candidates.

Those who are not among those tainted by the mud of corruption. And which politician in that unhappy country isn't involved up to his neck in some hoax? Just imagine if in that den of corruption there is someone to be trusted? Everyone there is only looking for one thing, which is to do well in life.

For those moths of society, only their good matters, the rest be damned! Know how to choose your candidates when voting! This is what generally say those who end up blaming voters, when everything goes wrong, as if we have many choices. The truth is that Brazilian politics has become an open door for the worst types of human beings to enter.

 And in that way we can easily plunder our taxes, the same ones that should serve to improve the living conditions of this nation. We are being dominated by the insatiable greed of a minority that, because they have the power in their hands, compel the majority to live under short reins, playing their luxurious lives of maharajas — My goodness, I stayed here for so long brooding over my revolts in the face of the chaos that was print in front of me that I forgot the hours! — The day is over, it's already night.

 Living in complete solitude has its advantages, we don't even notice the time passing. We don't watch the sunrise or sunset, if the sky is starry, if the moon is rising, full or waning ... We don't notice anything, we just let life take us and that's it.