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The culture of the people is what actually makes them great, regardless of size. And much of the cultural richness that make up languages, mainly in those territories which, like ours, cherish their own, a historical legacy to be cherished, pampered like gold, because here it is gold that glitters .

You and us here came to the world and those who live here, we are lucky to have and share a language which, like all others, born to promote understanding, a language designed for communication and rapprochement among equals a own language with stitches sewn giving the passage of time and, sometimes, gathered between distrust, exaltation or craving.

But languages ​​have not always been those bridges to unite raised edges, the common core of understanding but at times has been and is opposite to a reinforced concrete wall creating shadows where even the light hits.

And that is why I greatly distressed fratricidal language use made ​​by some to discredit the opposite. To use the language of self and others as the new monochrome spray-on that arbitrates the good and the bad, especially in the fields of political confrontation.

Let this reflection on a day like today, where I will walk on the street to demonstrate that the conflict exists only in the dialectic of those who think themselves remarkable. Because people are something else.