We can

While I type this I’m sitting in a dark apartment in some cold small city in the north of The Netherlands. I’m typing this with the TV on and a politician on the screen. While I type this the man in the picture gives his inaugural speech. And it's while I type this I that look at him, and I cannot help wondering how long will it take him to fail us. He is probably no superhero, certainly he is neither a saint. And even if he were, the debts and the burdens that he has already compromised himself to pay back to those who helped -or maybe just didn't oppose- his way towards where he is today are already so upscaled and heavy that it can be sadly presumed that any river he might try to cross will have his chains sinking him down. His promises with him.

Promises are such a heavy load.

But if you look... not at him, but one meter, two meters, ten meters around him… If you look at the faces that follow him, at the eyes that stare, at the ears that listen, you’ll see something new. Not seen for long years. Yes, just another politician promising redemption… but damn it, if only for the hope and the illusion he sparks around him, he deserves the benefit of my doubt. And he has it.

Yes, we can. After all, we can.

Today it's tuesday, the third in this cold January. In Extremadura, an angler has caught a fish weighting over seven kilos. In Gronin I've finally recovered the internet connection. In Washington DC, Barack Hussein Obama has become the 44th president of the United States of America. Meanwhile, in Andrín the waves keep rolling from an ocean and up the sand, under the neverending lead-made clouds. It's still cold outside, Spring has yet to come...

Dedicated to you, Believers, for not giving up. Congrats, PS!