Perception again

 

I'm looking at this blue towel while I think about these words. The towel is nothing but a squared shape, so I'm having squared thoughts: an open door, a closed window, a laptop shut, a cell phone on, a TV, a remote control, a cushion,  a carpet, the room of the apartment,  my desk, the sticky notes pack, everything with four sides, with four angles. What if we flip it all and ourselves with it? What if the depth lies only in our minds? Well, if not, angles definitely change depending on where you stand. That could explain why the tantrums when others just observe and remain quiet.

 

Drawers. Some of them don’t get open for a while. Sometimes they work better for memories than pictures themselves.  You find that thing you thought it was cool to have, but you never really used it, you just put it there. Now that you’re looking at it you remember what happened when you were buying it, what you were told, you didn’t believe it, but now it’s true, so you put the thing back in the drawer, and you keep the memory for some time in your head, and acknowledge that had to happen, that it’s better this way, that you in fact never got the chance to choose, that you were more like a witness and no photo told you that before. Now you have to stop looking at the towel, get dressed and go to work, and set your mind on what you need to do, and please stop using social media like you do…

 

How is the shape of the void? Is it a circle with a hole? How about Israel depth? Perhaps the depth is built with our issues, all those issues we’ve been collecting and treasure like remembering them was something worth to do. How much have we learned from them. I see myself falling apart in silence and there’s nothing there to bring up for making anything better. Even good memories lose their power to cheer you up when the present is so hope-consuming. So we just have this void to visit and contemplate, like a lake, waiting for anything to pop, to splash.  A leaf fallen from a tree and taken by the wind to flow you, with you; while the silence greets all those memories the same wind brought you when touching your face. I just need more money,  and perhaps more time with myself.

 

Shades, I can see the lamp on their reflex. The house is dark and the lamp is on, even at daytime. The sound of a hairdryer,  the sound of a Sunday evening that awaits the routine to start again. High temperature in the body. The month is about to end, and I woke up with this feeling of frustration that we pay to be fined. I was fined with two hundred dollars by a company named LMS Parking. They are in charge of giving us (we, the residents of this complex) this type of service where my car has to be registered,  so I won’t be fined, and my car wouldn’t be locked. I want to understand why, as residents,  we are not being called, and told first, as a courtesy: dear resident,  based on our records, your car is not registered,  we kindly ask you to do it so. Instead, the administration just send a general email stating, pretty much, that if the car is not registered,  it will be locked, and you will be fined. Just like that. It felt rude, like they don’t care, like it is what it is. Another day comes by.

 

Costumer care, sometimes an empty definition. If it’s in person, you have to wait on a large line and spend a time you don’t have just make a point that, perhaps,  it won’t be considered. So you call, and the waiting is even worse. Then you have the reviews,  so you let go your frustration to no one, and then you get an empty answer like: so sorry to hear that. It is happening in every level, in every field. The illusion of not being alone tend to get a serious strike when you actually have to use social media for a real personal matter. In other words, if your problem is not part of a trend, then it won’t get any attention, so you better find a trendy concern to make opinions, or else you better remain quiet and take your frustration on any other thing that has nothing to do with your problem. This is our world now: Parking services. They don’t serve me at least. 

Denial

Shall I get you another one? No. Maybe yes, but for me too. I can sit with you for a while, there are no more customers. Well, if you’re fine with it. Sure. What are you writing about? I’m just putting these thoughts on paper just not to forget them, you see, I’m always thinking of how things may be connected among each other, I believe there’s some kind of thread joining events for interpretation. Whose interpretations, ours, for example? Perhaps but I think events are more like: served for feelings; it’s like sensing. Don’t you think it might be just chance? Sure, but chance doesn’t work all the time for everyone; some people’s chances could be some other’s facts or logic consequences. For instance? You open this café everyday and expect customers, you are not leaving at least until I’m gone, I came here for a coffee and now we’re talking; you see, for me this is chance, but for you it’s a logic consequence: this is the first time I’m having a conversation with you but sure it’s not the first time you have a word with a customer. Well, it’s getting more common every time, few people are coming. Let’s hope it won’t get any worse. Please.

Tell me more about your thoughts, how they’re served? Most of them are built because of a feeling, so let’s say you’re not thinking until you put a feeling on it. I’m not following. You are indeed, what you are is unsure how to feel about it. It sounds weird to you, I may be even weirder but you’re not certain and there’s a part of you kind of interested, so you’re not thinking about it, you’re processing it and only after that you’re going to put a feeling on it, and that will be when you think: either I’m a waste of time or this is perhaps more interesting than it looks. It is more complex for sure. Of course, but it’s amusing to realize that almost every information we believe we think it is not so, that it is more the result of a feeling embracing such information and, base on that, we take part of something like: going or not to vote next elections, so we are not going to choose really, especially those who are not going to vote. In the time of our parents youth most of the info used to be gathered by newspapers; there were these sections that actually separated the news and in many cases, people then not always processed it along with a feeling, at least not like we do now. It could be so, but I also think (yes, think) that feelings could come up because of the anxiety the current situation has been pushing us all though. True, and anxiety is also, or least in my perspective, a feeling. Let me tell you something crazy, so you can actually think about it that way: you asked me what I was writing about. I think (based on a feeling) that the actual staff of the high government want to resign, they just don’t want to do it with the actual opposition, so that’s why we’re having these candidates and yes, the guy who used to stand for them will win, and a transition will start by the end of the year. What about the constituent assembly? Their job is to write a new constitution; a new one that allows them enjoy what they’ve made so far. I think you’re crazy. I know, but I really wanted to write it and now I’m posting it. Thanks for the coffee.

another taste…

A little taste from a beer: a black one; a black one that puts some of my thoughts chatting with my memories, so I remember Berlin. It was my first trip as tourist to Europe; I had been in Frankfurt before but it was as a musician: something I’m not being for a while.

By that time - Berlin, not Frankfurt - we had this mechanism so called cupo and, while others used it to bring dollars for making themselves more stable, I used it to know some of the world, and thanks God I did it, now a Venezuelan hardly makes ten dollars a month…

I actually feel this remorse when I reach thirty dollars because it is not common, so I write while having a beer, a beer that costs more than a working day for most fellows. I get a little taste, another one, and see this picture: no one can even buy something just for pleasure nowadays. Everything is only for the necessary, so you can understand how guilty we may feel for having a beer. I get another taste. In a time when every working hour is just to calm down hunger a little, the president says he’s running again because, surprise, we’re having elections within three months. He practically doesn't have opposition, well, he does; the majority hates the guy, his people know it, the thing is he controls the bureau, the army, the courts; everything from the public administration, he probably controls the opposition leaders, although that's just a rumor. A few days ago the Supreme Court released a sentence that forbids CNE, the electoral power of the nation, include the coalition of the opposition members, who had been unified as a single party. Divide and conquer, and we’re everyone for itself. There’re also anti-government people who despise their representatives (their own, not Maduro’s ones) as much as the president, so you can imagine who may win. I get another taste. I picture myself three months from now and wonder again how could this guy and his people actually have supporters: I know why, but still, l can't get it, what I can get is another taste…

Hunger is the best tool for these politicians, the promise of being fed without working looks like a paradise on Earth, in this case Venezuela, and it’s just a promise, they don't even have to, let's say, fulfill it. Last December they said on national TV they were importing (because we don't produce a shit anymore) pork meat for all and it didn't happen. There were even riots for it. They said, again, on national TV, they were not to blame but Portugal (at first) then Trump (it used to be Obama before) and then Santos (the president of Colombia is always guilty of something) It has to be someone from abroad unless the responsible lies on the opposition, in that case that person will be guilty of charge for sure... and yes, their people believe those things and I won’t take another taste because I took my last one while realizing we haven´t realized properly yet; this could get even worse, worse enough to stop writing and posting because there won’t be time nor resources for it. I still have a twitter account, I mean, we’re bad but there’s more to worsen…

See you!

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…