"Under the bridge" The nobodies Los nadies

Medellin Colombia 2016

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Fleas dream of buying themselves a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping poverty: that one magical day good luck will suddenly rain down on them–will rain down in buckets. But good luck doesn’t rain down yesterday, today, tomorrow, or ever.

Homeless Woman in Black and White, Portrait Improvised Streetkitchen in Black and White Tent under a bridge in Medellin

Good luck doesn’t even fall in a fine drizzle, no matter how hard the nobodies summon it, even if their left hand is tickling, or if they begin the new day with their right foot, or start the new year with a change of brooms.

Young woman on the street in Medellin, Colombia

The nobodies: nobody’s children, owners of nothing. The nobodies: the no ones, the nobodied, running like rabbits, dying through life, screwed every which way.

Who are not, but could be. Who don’t speak languages, but dialects. Who don’t have religions, but superstitions. Who don’t create art, but handicrafts. Who don’t have culture, but folklore. Who are not human beings, but human resources. Who do not have faces, but arms. Who do not have names, but numbers. Who do not appear in the history of the world, but in the police blotter of the local paper.

Tent house on the side of the street in Medellin, Colombia People living under a bridge in Medellin, Colombia Homeless men lying next to his improvised tent in Medellin, Colombia Cooking on an old pan on the street in Medellin, Colombia Person in her improvised tent under a bridge in Medellin, Colombia

The nobodies, who are worth less than the bullet that kills them.

Old Men walking with a bag over his shoulder

by Eduardo Galeno - translated from spanish

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