Dies slowly who becomes the slave of habit,

who follows the same routes every day,

who never changes pace,

who does not risk and change the colour of his clothes,

who doesn’t speak with strangers.

Dies slowly who follows television as a guru.

Dies slowly who shuns passion,

who prefers black on white dotting on the "i"

rather than a bundle of emotions,

the kind that make your eyes glimmer,

that turn a yawn into a smile,

that make the heart pound

in the face of mistakes and feelings.

Dies slowly who doesn’t turn things topsy-turvy,

who is unhappy at work,

who doesn’t risk certainty for uncertainty just to follow a dream,

who doesn’t allows, at least once in their lives,

to run away from reasonable advices.

Dies slowly who doesn’t travel,

who doesn’t read,

who doesn’t listen to music,

who doesn’t find grace in himself.

Slowly dies who destroys his own self-esteem,

who doesn't allow himself to be helped.

Slowly dies who spends days on end complaining

about his own bad luck and about the rain that never stops.

Dies slowly who give up a project before starting it,

who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn't know.

We escape the death in small doses

reminding oneself that being alive

requires an effort far greater

than the simple fact of breathing.

Only a burning patience

will lead to the attainment

of a splendid happiness.

(Martha Medeiros, published in the newspaper Zero Hora, Brazil, 2000)