The Unsustainable slightness of the being, unsustainable. Certain time had presented me a book, of a list of some Amongst many others, this book: The unsustainable slightness of the being. My choice was motivated for the curiosity: – What it would be unsustainable? According to Aurlio: That if it cannot support, unfounded, unable to subsist. It took me to this to the deepest desire to unmask what serious so unsustainable and at the same time so intense that he caused the slightness in the being. It was with this thinking that me adentrei in the mysterious world, disturbing and highly complex which felt me making pair of it, for to times saw me in places as: Tchecoslovquia, to other imagined me times in France, the coffees, in the art halls, imagined in way the revolutionary Czechs to me, heard the airplanes to far. I smell it felt it of the spring of Plague, felt the racket estonteante of the tanks invading my city my space, therefore from certain moment I passed to feel itself inserted in the historical and imaginary context of Milan Kundera. The linking if became so deep that, when gave for me, it appeared in return in my home, my reality, my hot, full land of defects, full of dreams, my Cear, my Sobral. But what it can have in set two lands, two times, two histories. That interaction could live two times, two distinct times? When lowering the eyes to the pages, saw the escape of people, the desperation of not being able to be in its home, and if it was, of not being able to speak what it thinks, of being overwhelmd and being directed as to the wills of its invaders, when suspending the eyes and returning mine second land, saw desperation, the same escape the same, the same return, the perpetual return, to same invaded lands, in Plague for tanks, in Sobral, for waters, dilvio, there, for airplanes, and here for adobe, hunger, rain, relento, the return was a truth there, here also, in Plague, they had been lost lives, jobs and destinations, had broken up people here and, had been lost alive, infancy, dreams.