just three years ago, caution was taken by unpatriotic. Primate optimism. Verb triumphed easy and clean look. Had not yet permeated the angular and sharp Spain language of numbers. Something wrong arises as a chronicle of transit as a "road book" that chronicles the journey between the powders and sewage sludge.
The economic crisis was the beginning. After the blackout came the looting, the presumption of impunity and refined savagery barking after wiping noses with napkin. Unveiled in the middle of necessity, the intuited is manifest even worse than a caricature: the governors command the lawlessness and the alternative is camouflaged crumbs lurking.
Political crisis, of course, and with it the whole social and cultural string. One in three teens not the end of compulsory education and no one has claimed responsibility. Politicians spend the night in jail and dawn return to their city councils to recur in the possessive. All we need to be fully European resign.
Something wrong is a story in the background pessimistic but optimistic in the forms. The red lights of alarm, as seen that no longer are, seem disco effects. Or a circus, the better. Sometimes you just stop talking to those who can to laugh first, then outraged, and finally repent for our part of the blame.
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