and the slogan becomes a song…

I was having a little chat with some coworkers. One was saying about English importance: the treaties, the way to get in touch with the world, the advantages and, in general; all those things we’ve been always told but not so many cared. The interesting thing was what the other one said:  why English? That’s a language I won’t be submitted (and it won’t be necessary to write what else he said)

I pictured some scenarios in my head: let’s take this guy and sit him over a chair with power, let’s say he will be named a minister or a director: what kind of management would it be his? The possible answers of this question actually remove you from any doubt. It would be nefarious, just as it is Venezuela nowadays.

We’ve been living the time of free market and globalization; something opposing will hardly reach a common good. The only way a government controlled market may work is by sponsoring perceptions through alms; you see: I set up an insult, something that makes minds feel rather than understand, so perceptions get open through this sort of offensive feeling via, which also make them get eager, eager for an explanation, and the explanation comes, an archetype: there must be someone, someone evil, evil from abroad; and now I get why I’ve been poor, why wealth is a concept for frustration, then I start summarizing: what do I really want, or need? What the government gives: a box with several products so you don’t get hungry, but remember, this is not just to solve hunger, it isn’t. This is a struggle against the enemy, an enemy who imposed English and a wrong concept of wealth. I don´t know what’s wealth anymore. Wealth is what government tells, so you better start paying attention to its words, so its words become a slogan, and the slogan becomes a song…

What about now? Alms have been reduced because Oil price crumbled. Now the song is about production: what such a thing could be if you first told me I wasn´t responsible for who I’ve been? 

Now that I’m aware my ignorance was planted by the enemy… I just wait for my box of food.

Power is power, Cercei said.

what we choose to feel…

Envious is the most common type of personality according to a study and that explains some… I was taking a look at this thing called the mind–body problem and I found that a Five-Aggregate Model is mentioned. It implies that sense impressions are always changing so behavior problems might be understood based on such readings and explanations. There’s a term in Spanish called “retraso genómico” and it embraces the thesis that day routine things go faster that our capability of understanding them, and this is because we spend so much time trying to be updated at social networks that we tend to forget the immediate real world around us. This could be why there’s more enviousness and mood changing nowadays, but I didn’t bring this just to write about social networks, millions of people do it so. I brought them up because I believe – at least I see it this way in here – that social networks have become in sort of windows which people, particularly Venezuelans, get a vision of how society behaves abroad and how far from it they feel because of the control of the currency and the political division. Thus, we get envious at everyone a lot but we control it, we hold it on hard, maybe not to lose ourselves because in the end it’s not worthy, but the feeling remains and it carries us through a path of resentment, because now we’re called new poor as a result of the new rich who government gives support to… Envious is natural but it is also what we choose to feel… 

There’s no sex in your violence…

Sixty percent of the people can’t have a ten minutes conversation without lying at least once, and it seems to me such a percentage might be even higher. As many probably have known, these days have been very newsworthy for anyone, yes, I know, but for Venezuelans too. And this is because of the battle of pictures. I mean well, for good but it is what is, many pictures proving to gather the greatest crowd ever, either the government or the opposition: drones, videos, slogans, jokes (especially jokes) and so…  But this post is not about crowds, it is about those countrymen who set (or think they achieve so) on fire the online world showing big strength and rage by posting tweets and cursing on facebook. I just think, because I was listening to Bush Everything zen, that actually there’s no sex in such violence. 

According to a dictionary rage means, among some other things, a burning desire; a passion.  And Zen is the name of a Buddhist philosophy based on powering thoughts. Perhaps this big collective wish, that so many times becomes a bitch impotence, just maybe,  for a while and not for certain, but hopefully; it’s canalized by these posted feelings which won’t become real actions because it is just a matter of faith and not exactly a matter of truth… I don´t know… Perhaps…

Mal de golfília…

Pues ya nos vamos. Sí. Después de tanto trajín, tanto esfuerzo tonto; nos vamos. Una pancarta anunciando una pronta inauguración se desteñía; tal vez por el sol,  por el tiempo, por albergar otra promesa incumplida… y es que a eso  nos hemos acostumbrado: a la idea de un futuro, lamentablemente sin presente. No es posible pensar que algo ha de ocurrir si aún no empieza. Está bien, pero; pero nos prometen empezar, y eso al final es lo que significó la palabra: anunciar un algo por hacer, más no necesariamente cumplirlo. Es quizá nuestra esperanza puesta fuera, porque sabemos que no haremos nada al respecto; la que nos lleva a creer, con fe, en lo que nos prometen, y sobretodo creer; que por prometido, habrá de cumplirse. Luego queda esa suerte de arrebato; tal vez de frustración, tal vez de tristeza, de rabia, puede ser: de que no nos cumplieron, para entonces empezar a criticar, a opinar, a practicar la autocompasión y el autodesprecio, para luego volver a la rutina, amargados, producto de cada espejo humano que nos susurra a base de apenas gestos: ¿y qué prometiste tú?

How hard is to be easy!

The spoiled aspect in us might be considered a sort of a viral picture we use to live with. Like it is said in Venezuela: It is getting (Could be: everyone is getting it) Well; it may be typical. Such a thing is attributed, at first, to a misinterpretation of first loves. Eventually we get uncomfortable, to then start a never exhausting search for finding fear. Finally the goal lies on the admiration. So that we tend to believe we are better admired by fear rather than love. We never stop evocating childhood. Some experts call it depression, perhaps because of a insecurity in that, maybe. But if we imagine a little and believe the tale that our personality is made by shells like an onion, the insecurity comes out first, and for that, besides crying, in this case, we get depressed.  We reach the anger, the envy, and mixed it all up with unhappiness. From there we go to the pills and then prescriptions. That’s on we are. Especially if we find a good vice so such a disorder gets justified. That’s the way I am. But time never stops being perfect and not only God’s. Someday we’ll no longer be feared (whoever fears us) and it will become into a defeat which we avenge with the love. How easy is to be difficult, isn’t It? Better said: How hard is to be easy! That’s the reason why the conflict is a kind of peace and for that Peace is always a conflict… 

Spanish version: aquí

      

The sublime pretext’s recyclability…

One Word is wrongly said until it is approved for existence and that force us say many things wrong lately. Known it is that  a partition wall is related with construction and such a term in Spanish language (as many other words) comes from the Arabic…  A partition wall is used to divide spaces but not with the same quality than a real wall needs to be called such as… Pretext: the pretext works out like a partition wall. It is useful for establishing weak divisions between what will come and what is imminent, and time keeps going by, which is called cyclical by the way; because there are moments that can return from scratch, thus, everyone can pretext once more and once again. But why? To repeat the cycle? Trying some poetry: To stretch time? There are situations with perspectives alike. For example while waiting on a line, which is always unnecessary and therefore convenient (at least here: in Venezuela) But why again? Because stretching time justify pretexts. Symbiotically, perhaps…  Most of us know: that who waits despair as much as with the excuse, and who explains confuses when not managing to convince, and when cannot make it offends… But why once more? Because stretching time brings power even with pretexts, because pretexting  stretches the time of the power, because the power, the power has to be stretched and also pretexted…  

Spanish version: aquí