Standing in the crowded bus, with the body shacking, eyes gazed Sugar Loaf somewhat shaky because of slips of the road. Head with thoughts far away, the heat made ​​me go back to the point where I was. Below me was reading a quiet girl, as if a bubble involves a parallel world (I’d give anything to penetrate). It is so pretty quiet people watching …

In his hands, the book gave little sobs of the girl leaning on her lap. I could read the name of the chapter opened: “Man is condemned to freedom.”

I started thinking … Freedom is a tie even. The power of choice is a prison volunteer. Owning itself means that all roads in the world can be yours! The responsibility to be completely autonomous in their choice weighs much more than an iron ball attached to the foot of the damned. It is much easier to accept the weight of the ball and deduce that it is there that your days will be given, than to have nothing that will impose one place. What to do when nothing binds you?