Cynical me

Last night, for the anniversary of the fall of Berlin wall, I watched a movie about the world war II. And I thought again about the letters in Ohio Veterans Plaza, and I thought again about the bombings in the World Trade Center, and the trains in Madrid, and I thought again about the stupidity of the human race, about how we don´t seem to understand that we are all the same and all looking for the same things in life, and none of us knows shit about what will happen to us, we all live under the same uncertainty, we are all alone and afraid of being alone. We all have the same instincts and the same fears, and still we don´t work together, even though we would be much happier if we helped each other instead of fighting each other.

But then the cricket in my head says, "Ok, the world sucks. Get up and do something about it". And I realize how cynical I am. How I´m always talking about these utopic ideals of mine, but I won´t be the one to change the world. Because the truth is, I don´t want to. I am too busy trying to fix my own life, too comfortable sitting in front of my books and complaining about how unfair the world is, but it´s not my fault and therefore not my responsibility either. Thank god, there are a few people in the world who don´t think like me. But hey, I am not worse than all those perroflautas who protest for the wrong reasons, or for the right reasons but the wrong motivations.
And I know I could help a lot. Not enough to make a significant change, but still, for somebody, it could mean a lot, even everything. And sometimes I kind of feel that I need to do something meaningful. Maybe some day.
But for now, I will keep writing down my ideals with the vane illusion that someone might read them and get up and do something.