Another
night, another deception . Get used to it. I take a shower with my boy. I have
to take advantage of it because he will grow faster than my thoughts. I enjoy
it. It's kind of like our moment. I hope he remembers it as I do. Now I’m naked
in front of the sink, thinking and writing.
Realizing this is too depressive.
I better change the narrative here, I must talk about something else.
Yes. Next day. Dark. Still dark. Bugs
are playing their dawn symphony. They always do. It just came to my mind that I
am witnessing so many wonderful sunsets every time I go to the second job. The
way the sky is painted feels like a gentle touch for my view. I can have that. I
can have a coffee now as well. Time pushes indeed, but I wake up early. Someday
soon I will also watch the sun emerge from this darkness and greet our mornings
with the fade of the symphony. I’m still
working on logistics here. But it will happen eventually. In the meantime, I get ready for the first job. The one at the
warehouse. I forgot to point this out as something worth to mention: that the
bugs don’t play alone, birds play along with them. It seems to me that they,
the birds, are not part of the concert since the overture, but they tend to be part of it as the chants
go by, they seem to be like special guests, daily special guests. Who are the daily
special guests in our life? Do we have any? Is it good to have it? Is it good
not to have it? Sun is coming. Darkness is leaving. I’m watching it from a
window, while sitting on the couch, so this one won’t count. I would like to
count on any special guest, I guess. Nostalgia is a nice word. I like the word
that Portuguese has for it: saudade, to long for that you once had,
perhaps knowing you’re not going to have it ever again. Like puberty, for
example. I remember when the complexity of what we disturb ourselves with, used
to lie more onto unfulfilled desires rather than unmet expectations. Now I’m
thinking about the lasting of each – and the repercussions, of course – how
long does a desire burn for? What happens next after it stops burning? With
expectations is another story, isn’t it? We can expect consequences! In the
afternoon, the symphony is mostly played
by cars. Those who stop and those who go. That’s the drivers’ concert, which
I’m about to join but not yet. I’m still waiting, whispering and sighing, for
the day on my shoulders and for the upcoming ones, in this case. Next day
again. Less dark, from what I see. Engines got loud that I can barely hear the crickets.
A couple of legs passed by. Still summer. We’re getting into the last days. A
light blue is approaching from the back of the sky, making its way through the
dark tones already posed when looking up. A few and little pinks start emerging
from the clouds. I can see them now. They are preparing the sky for the entrance
of the sun. Sun is taking it easy; there’s no rush for shining or rising at the
moment. A few birds started singing.
It’s a new day, coffee on hand: black and bitter, for an imaginary sweetness.
Memories – mine at least – tend to be stored in my mind a bit like photos or
videos on the cell phone; if I want one, I have to, let’s say, scroll until I
get it. Lately they have been popping up randomly. I would like to know why. It’s
involuntary. I’m picking an order at work and suddenly, a high school moment
comes like it was something I’ve been thinking of, but it’s not. My guess is
that the mind brings these moments out nothing in an attempt to bear the
worries. In other words, the mind can’t stand thinking too much about something
whose solution is not coming any sooner, or that there’s no way to solve it at
the moment. A defense mechanism maybe, maybe a tryout to prevent a possible
collapse. I’m forgetting things out of focus lack. Nevertheless here I am
trying to break it down to come up with an understanding… with you, with them,
with all of us. Could that be a good thing after all? I think it could be what
we tend to code as faith; having faith might be an interpretation of how your
mind works things out to keep you going. How about atheists? Honestly, that is a
form that narcissism adopts on some people. You build your own ego, on many
cases, by forcing yourself to a stereotype fitting, or to an archetype already
made, to satisfy a market need, or a political
establishment. What we do is to characterize someone we think we can be using such
foundations. That works for a time on many, for a whole life to some. But it
may stop working, and there it is when we should surrender our ego, and let
ourselves embrace any new and fresh aspect for our personality, something that
might be a more appropriate fit for the times we’re living. Quite a break
through! And quite a challenge, considering the rejection on long-term
endeavors.
The sky
looks like it’s going to rain. There is this mix of heat and cold breeze that
feels weirdly nice. I’m inside the car, waiting, listening to the sound of one of these
industrial engines that must expulse a sort of steam, or smoke - I’m not sure -
to keep functioning. The sound has a funny variation more likely found in music
songs. If the simulation theory is somehow real, how music would exist then? I
don’t know. It just occurred to me. Play is an interesting word. A band plays a
song while recording it, and fans play that song over and over later on. In
Spanish those plays are in fact two different words; two different verbs.
So play works out for the listener and the musician. I’m both, by the way. Play
symbolizes pleasure; amusement, in every way when it comes to music. I’m home.
I can hear the air conditioning. I can
also see myself into the black mirror out of the TV set. It’s not that I see me
clearly, but I can see how I feel in that image of myself I’m now projecting. I’m
looking at my son while he still sleeps. He is just a little angel in my bed
now. I’m blessed. I love the sound he's making with the pacifier. It’s like a drum
beat which I want to follow up. Someday he will see me playing and someday he
will have the chance to sense the music like I do. That’s my one true advice if
I can give any: sense the music. Break every line down of an instrument and try
to get the language each one of them is speaking. It’s just a wonderful thing
to do. Enjoy it when you can. The day has almost gone by. Supper was huge;
great. INow I don’t know if I’m sleepy or tired. I am full, that’s for sure.
Full of emptiness? Not now. Full of hope? Not either. Full of food. Today.
Tonight. It’s cold outside. Not like fall
or winter, but cold for a summer night. Crickets sings. The sky is dark, a bit
blurry because of the clouds, and not as dark as early in the morning, but dark
above all. I guess I will never stop getting surprised by the attention unpaid.
I mean, I’ve been there a thousand times, and yet, there it is the bitterness showing
up like the flame of a lighter when rolling it on. I’m old enough to tell when my
words are going nowhere in a conversation, but I insist, I speak louder; which
is a terrible mistake. I’m the only one who knows what my words worth but I
keep giving them away and leave them in the unappreciated. If someone is not
listening to you, stop talking to them. As simple as that. – I heard that from
Jordan Peterson and loved it – Whatever it is that we want to say, should not
be subjected to disinterest by our stubbornness. Specially if it goes only to
please our ego. Not anymore. And yes, That’s why we insist and that’s why we
think we need it. For our ego. It hurts, I know. It pisses us off, I won’t deny
it. But we have to accept and understand when we are no longer a priority,
therefore what we have to say won’t matter. I’m learning how to deal with it. I
have come to a point in which I wonder if I have been doing wrong during all
this time. Perhaps I’m just facing the consequences
of choosing this life. Now I’m a fool hesitating and wondering, and I can’t
stop thinking about it. Add debts to that and you’ll get a preposterous present:
my present. Thanks God I have the love for my son. I’m scared that I’m putting
too much on him. I don’t want him to feel any pressure. I want him to be free
and happy. I can’t sleep. Anger won’t let me. I’m thinking too much. I need to
change the subject. Let me try. I need to believe that I am going through this
for a reason, and that there will be some sort of reward afterwards. Is it too
foolish? I know. It is. Fucking archetype that won’t let me change, and embrace
failure and disappointment as something I have to get rid of, and not as a
sacrifice for a cause I know is not such. I’m just losing my faith away. I hate
the Smoke. And that’s what my faith has turned into: a drag that goes away with
the wind, as the cigarette runs out, and then there comes the need of lighting
another one, and another one, and another one, until I have no more and start
disturbing and talking shit about everyone, only because I need to buy more
cigarettes. I have to take care of he kid. The rest are too busy drowning in
the social media while having a smoke. That’s another story, that’s the story of self cheating. Self
cheating and victimism have taken on self esteem. I guess I need to find a joke
on Instagram, or spy on someone else’s life, to see mine more miserable and
blame the world for it. I hope I can enjoy the balcony, or the sunset. At least
listen to the music I like. I remember when I was a teenager and I used to do
it. I listened to a lot of music. Those were the days! At the moment, I just want to say a prayer for my boy. It’s a
habit. My faith comes back in a different way. Venezuela was once a colony of
Spain, that explain our heritage in many aspects as a nation; as people in
general. With the passing of the time, there were lots of changes that added features
to our idiosyncrasy, but I could say Religion has kept solid since memorial
times. Most of us are catholic. Many of us went to catholic schools, in fact, I’m pretty sure that catholic
schools are still among the first choice for parents to enroll their
children. If I were there, I certainly
would be one of those. We have to link these sort of traditions to this
vogue-like atheism typical of social media. We must understand that there is a
coexistence between everything we inherited as population, and anything trendy
on those cell phone apps. We also must understand that many things derived from
such coexistence, have political purposes; specially the ones related to
behavior and beliefs. Pedophiles at catholic church? Yes, sure. But the fact
that media implies that such a crime happens out of religion beliefs, instead
of a position of power, understanding,
of course, that church is, obviously,
one of those – I’m not denying it – but not the only one, simply makes
the difference. A criminal is a criminal for the things he did, not for the
institution he believes in. Nevertheless we buy the political narrative, so we
embrace the possibility that religion, as an institution, is undermined by the
faith, leaving aside the corruption. There are many examples like that. I could
state that the vogue of being open mined was use for such causes as well.
That’s why we wanted for a time to be
those who, allegedly, understood the path the world was taking. Now in my
forties, I don’t know. I think I’ll just stick with jokes. But the damage is
already done. The Venezuelan exodus started more or less in 2015, it has not
slowed down ever since yet. So now we watch news like: two Venezuelans were
capture trying to rob, kidnap, rape, steal, falsify, blackmail; whatever felony
you can come up with. Since when the citizenship dictates the law compliance? Since
it's convenient for a political say. Then you get used to read it on social
media, and then the prejudge is already on everyone’s head. You also read the
opposite, and it's kind of annoying too:
the secretary of whoever important person is Venezuelan, the yoga instructor of
whoever celebrity is Venezuelan. Don’t tell me that isn’t political too. After
a shower and some wine, I have come to realize that job ads are fake. I haven’t
figured them out yet but they seem fake to me. I mean, how come it is that
there are so many ads, looking for so many people, at so many levels, with so
many types of jobs, and no one calls you for a review of your résumé? Really?
You’re telling me I’m not good enough to be summit at least? Come on!
