The second high school

This is an idea I’ve been thinking of for a while. We spent three years wearing blue chemises with jean pants; we call that period basic education. It is – or it was – supposed to come along after six years of elementary, and then - if passes the tests - we wear the beige ones for two more years; with jeans too, that’s what I did at least. From some time and on it changed - I’ve heard - but the way I remember it’s as described. 

Those five years were a very important moment of transformation. I believe I have to clarify some points so I won’t be misunderstood. I’m not an expert of the subject, I know there’re a lot of studies which explains from a scientific approach what I want to imply here; I’m aware of it. I’m just sharing my perception so you can leave me yours… As I’ve wrote it, I may keep going. Transformation; metamorphosis, becoming. Our voice, taste and senses; among many other things, provides our brain with a lot of information we recode by instinct, for instance – and forgive me for the example – we achieve to discover that suck my dick it’s not just an insult but something you may get done and felt. So many things change… 

We got together in groups of forty, forty high school students per classroom. We used to have three short breaks for switching teachers. Those three breaks… 

The breaks were the moment for sharing, the time to be admired or mocked by the rest, the time that; in spite of wearing the same clothes and looking not so different from each other, we start showing ourselves the way we think we’re going to be. So we develop character, passions, interests, poses and pretendings among some other things… 

We get adults; we get adults with a promise, a promise of a future, a future we have to work for until you realize you live – not before deny it a bunch of times – under a communist regime.  

But what does it mean? 

Nothing at all

It is just the second high school…

safe passages

There is this phrase which more or less in english goes like: we’re making the effort for having a better country. Now everything is for having a better country. Last Saturday I went to the venezuelan version of a Food Truck Fair and, like everything lately, it wasn´t enjoyable at all. Many people complained and they had a point to do so, the thing is that the producers of the event weren´t, in my opinion, respectful enough with the upset ones. This mainstream way of management through cell phones and by posting flattering moments of itself is not being well used as I can see. We are supposed to be cheering and grateful because they’re making the effort for having a better country; just like the government. Chavez used to speak about the new man as a person with new values. A lot of money in propaganda got spent to convey such an affirmation. I think it worked, there’s indeed a new man, only that perhaps it is not what’s expected, not to me at least.

The new politicians for instance. They’ve become so popular and then, at last, it turned too little (almost nothing) all these growing alliance against our oppressors. Yesterday, for example, these representatives, both sides, gathered at Dominican Republic to renegotiate terms. I’m kind of lost with those terms. I need my income to reach the next payment. We need a whole new economy system and we need it right away. This terms thing just delay while prices keep increasing. On the other hand, like the people of the Food Truck, these ones also are making the effort for having a better country…

It seems like everything is being done through safe passages. It seems that’s the excuse we better believe so, yes, we’re supposed to self-deceive one another, post it as a good thing to then, by lying each other, make the phrase a slogan. Therefore, let’s say I’m making the effort for having a better country I guess…

pity searcher, sharing story

A while went on since last time I could put some words on written thoughts. Time has turned faster somehow. Most of the hours I’m supposed to work I’m actually working, maybe that’s why…

A couple of months ago I’ve got some minutes so I could play writer. Well, the ones I’m taking for writing this come from a duty I’m delaying because my boss had to leave and, for now, she’s not behind me watching my screen. The problem, and it actually bothers me, it is this sort of sense of responsibility I cannot just get over, so there’s a voice telling me this should not be longer.

This might be a reason, a reason why some of us won´t focus more on the things we like to; these things we usually dedicate lots of thoughts. I had in my mind a couple of great things to tell, and I just forgot them, completely, I’m just using this time, as started saying, to put some words of written thoughts…

An important politician has escaped from the country, he’s now in Spain and there are these low quality fake news on saying, more or less, that he, from abroad, will claim the presidency of Venezuela as the leader of the coalition we call Oposición. So you can see even the fake news have lost quality, just like the government, which never had but this is different; our media is pretty much replicating arguments very few people believe and now so many just quit being interested. The face of many look like when hearing a bad joke which end is already known; by everyone, because it’s been told too much. I mean, people are not only bored but also tired and offended and those feelings together weighs quite some. In my case for example it’s on my shoulders, I’m always needing to have a seat, like carrying a back pack …

I’m back two days later. This is a process but I’ve found some to say: I still have a car. I say still because it is something nowadays. I know I should sell it but I have this hang on sort of feeling that won’t let me, so I’m leaving my bonuses on it. I know I sound selfish, too much I, me and my and this is not a pity searcher writing, it isn’t, this is more like sharing story writing.

I took the subway yesterday because there were no available buses, which it’s interesting in a city that it’s not entirely covered by the underground transportation. Many people rely on buses; cabs became too expensive, too expensive for someone who’s just going, for example, to do a shift at an everyday job, so, given the circumstances, you could see a lot of people standing, not for, but at; bank entrances, ATM machines, bakery stores and now, bus stops too. This could be why we’re all pretty much used to not being so strict with the timekeeping. We’ve finally become the jokes we once told each other to make fun. Few years ago we said such a behavior belonged to Venezuelan’s way, now it is the consequence of all these measures and responds… El Metro, that´s how we call our subway, was crowded; always, now with many more people to whom a deodorant and a perfume are simply unaffordable; you all get the idea of this: the breathing, the heat, the smelling, the disappointment, perhaps the sadness or maybe some anger but wrongly conveyed; you could notice and also feel it: how the environment and people’s mood actually talk through the expression of their faces, and that’s when the moment stopped…

The moment became memory; at least I would like to with these words, this post. I saw hope, I saw a girl with hope on her face. I didn’t talk to her, I didn’t stare at her either, just felt her that way, so I told myself why not being hopeful too. In the end, the situation won’t get any better with the anger and I’m pretty much tired. I’ll try to be more interesting next time. Thanks!