Who ride through the night with wild horses, with torches, which, like loosened hair, stream back in the great wind of their pursuits. 𝐃ark, but with a golden helmet that gleams restlessy. With helmets that flash the way mine does, now clear as glass, now dark, and old, and blind. Behind us the 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴 the streets slope back away from us, the squares try to escape us: we take them, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻. And one at my side blasts us space with his trumpet, which shines and screams out, and blasts us a black solitude we race through 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺:
ㅤㅤ ㅤ⬪ 𝐌𝘀.
Ásqylôuic Ddejōzęr B.ㅤㅤ ㅤ⬪ 𝐌𝘀.
Jōgázie D`Volliesㅤㅤ ㅤ⬪ 𝐌𝗿.
Pratāma Ābijayaㅤㅤ ㅤ⬪ 𝐌𝘀.
Yayá Vięnnerâ𝗪𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲, with a view to getting to know who is the big deal. Behind making all this happen. solidarity does not assume that our struggles are the same struggles, or that O𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧, or that our hope is for the same future. 𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 involves commitment, and work, as well as the recognition that even if we do not have the same feelings, or the same lives, or the same bodies, 𝗪𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱.
