First of July

ine

Today is the first of July and it is a very important day in Mexico, coincidentally, today a lot of mexicans are fulfilling their civic duty by voting for the next president and congress representatives.

A lot of mexicans are once again trusting and hoping for a change to come their way, for their lives to improve, for the country to progress.

I can’t relate to this idea, sadly I don’t see how an election, a moment of crossing out a name in a paper would give mexicans as a society the ability to improve anything, because as a society mexicans do not participate in the construction of the legal framework at anytime after the election, they simply put their trust in the politicians (and I will not use the word representatives because they are actually not representing the interests of the society) and hope for the best. This is the process every 6 years, to participate for a second to trust for the rest of their term.

For the longest time Mexico has lived in the perfect dictatorship, the ruler: A nice group of the richest entrepreneurs that have a long and profitable marriage with the mass media.

Why should I vote for a person that does not represent me? Why should I give my trust to someone I don’t trust?

Every 6 years the presidential elections are not about supporting the candidate that you choose, they are about trying to choose from all evils the one that seems least harmful, What type of democracy is that?

I believe that voting for the sake of “trusting democracy” is the worst way to waste your political freedom.

I believe that I should not lie about what I truly think and that I shouldn’t be afraid to face judgement from all the “good citizens” that choose to vote and I definitely shouldn’t be afraid that the government itself will threaten my life.

Listen to me mexicans: The change that you long for is not in any political party, nor in the government, it’s in our own ability to stop being selfish and start being human.

Political proposals are always so smart and amazing and so void…in reality the mexican constitution allows convicted criminals with criminal background for fraud and many other crimes to run for office in the Congress, in reality most of the mexican and foreign companies pay low salaries and demand countless hours of work from the people , they don’t pay for training and avoid paying extra hours as much as they can making it impossible for the people to live a balanced life, in reality the lucky people who actually have a job work until exhaustion to earn a way of life and neither the company nor the government support them even if they are single parents or if they have a family member with special needs or disability, in reality the government lends money to workers to buy an 85sq meter home and pay for it with interest for the rest of their life, in reality companies use other “sub-companies” to sign their work agreements and pay less taxes and to avoid complying with their constitutional obligations towards workers, in reality there are not enough spaces in schools for people to access basic education and a university degree is a privilege for a few percentage of the population whom also have to pay to access private schools because there are not enough spaces in public schools.

I didn’t hear any of the candidates mention anything about reforming the Constitution to include the mexican society in the actual decision making process of the laws that affect their lives. I didn’t hear any of the candidates mention that if you are a convicted criminal you are banned from running for public office, I didn’t hear any of the candidates talk about their real lives,  about who they are, I didn’t hear anyone having a clear vision about what they can and can’t accomplish to heal hundreds of years of mismanagement from countless previous governments and what they can and can’t do to stop the manipulation of information from the media.

“To end corruption”- That is the single most vague and virtually impossible idea I have heard…Come on! Why should I allow these people (the candidates) to treat me as if I weren’t able to understand a thing?

No, corruption will never end and no one can eradicate it, it exists in every country at every level and it will always exist as long as human beings exist because it is part of the human behavior…corruption has existed since time immemorial and the point is not to change that, the point is not to end it, the point is what to do in response to corruption and with all the consequences of corruption.

Nowadays in Mexico every politician that has been corrupt lives freely and at leisure to enjoy the money they stole, the businesses they made, the profit they gathered… What legal mechanism does the mexican society have in response to this?…NONE.

Ex-presidents that have been infamous throughout history, that have caused one economic crisis after the other, all they have to do is wait in their mansions in Switzerland or France until it’s ok to come back and live in Mexico again, slowly it becomes normal to have them around and after a while they and their children even become celebrities appearing in social magazines, showing off their million dollar weddings. This model is replicated at every level of government from majors of a municipality to the president of the republic.

Who is proposing any legal mechanism to react in defense of the people’s will? Who can think that rewarding these people is the people’s will? What sort of democracy is that?

Every 6 years I write a post like this and I wish that someone would understand that what any country needs, what any society needs is first to LIVE BY REAL HUMAN VALUES, for people to forget all the indoctrination, repression, insecurity, fear and violence they have been fed up and raised with and to learn how to be human.

How to know and love your self, how to respect your self, how to love your environment, how to love all other human beings because until you love others you will actually start to care about them and  by others I mean all others, not just your family, to love your family is not enough: love a stranger, love the person who has AIDS, love the person who is homeless, love the elders, love the single parents, love the people living in poverty, love all others, if you are able to love them then you will work with them and not against them and then you will be able to build a balanced society.

Human beings that live from this place will lead by example and those are the mexicans I would vote for.

 

 

 

 

A phrase of inspiration

The only thing preventing us from living in peace and harmony is our limited idea that we can’t do it

Literature: Poema de Gabriel Avilés, el Poeta de Cancún

Una tarde lluviosa tiene su belleza, un cigarro cuyas fumarolas se congregan alrededor de la perfecta distancia mientras el humo conmemora tu ser, un café donde lo inmaculado se destina a la cafeína con olo salobre.
Abarco tus costas, ellas resplandecen como un cuadro de Chagall a media bahía y en las mías, bruma se adueña del aura con una partitura anegada de silencios y corcheas.
Garabateo versos para anclar en tus flamas y me plagio canciones de Silvio, “¿Quién fuera el mítico Simbab”, en mi caso, el Perseo cargando al infinito en acuosa transparencia, gota de llovizna cuya rueca se adentra a tus córneas para encallar en eclipses y no quedar en el puerto de los solitarios donde encallo por tanto añorarte.

por: Gabriel Aviles

Literature: Sabor a Pólvora en los Labios

Entrenar para dejar de ser humano… estar dispuesto y listo para morir.

En algún punto del plan algo falló, estoy vivo. Me empaquetan y me embarcan de regreso, la mercancía ha caducado.

Las paredes a mi alrededor me acechan, la realidad es aún más insoportable que mis pesadillas, me retuerzo en el suelo, no puedo respirar, mi vista se nubla, el pánico ha regresado, el pánico nunca se ha ido.

Entrenar para dejar de ser humano, para convertirme en una máquina dispensadora de muerte, arriesgar mis miembros y mis extremidades, conocer al que sería mi gran amigo y verlo quemarse hasta morir antes de poder tomar una cerveza, el olor de su carne, la intensidad de sus gritos. Entrenar para verlo morir sin intentar salvarlo porque sé que no puedo hacer nada, ya todo está perdido, estar programado para moverme y seguir mi camino, de lo contrario serán mis intestinos la última imagen que vean mis hermanos.

Los sonidos de éste vecindario me apabullan, me dificultan la respiración, la vida, sólo el cuchillo de la cocina penetrando mi piel me conforta y me alivia, pero en algún punto del plan algo falló, sigo vivo.

Corro en busca de ayuda, superiores jerarcas que examinen la mercancía, revisan ingredientes y contenido, toman mi sangre y mi orina, llego en busca de mi alma, me recetan el soma sublingual.

Lo tomo en busca de una salida, mis neurotransmisores y mi química cerebral juegan en el torbellino de fantasía, entre luz y oscuridad, sólo quiere dejar de sentir…me duermo.

Cuando despierto me doy cuenta de que no he comido, en un tiempo, por alguna razón olvido comer, no me parece importante.

Hay sangre en el lavabo, el apartamento es demasiado ruidoso, las paredes se cierran, los recuerdos me persiguen, me tocan, me desgarran, quiero salir de aquí.

Gracias por tu servicio, no eres calificable, no puedes mudarte a un nuevo apartamento, no te amo, no estoy vivo, debiste haber muerto, lo que has hecho es terrible, tienes una orden para comparecer en la corte, necesitas un abogado criminal, gracias por tu servicio.

Escucho las voces y no puedo escapar de ellas, esta noche lo pasaré en el bosque, ahí me siento seguro, sé exactamente qué hacer, es silencioso.

Pasa la noche y al día siguiente regreso al bullicio, a la prisión psicótica, no entiendo nada, entro en mi apartamento, los platos sucios, intento lavarlos,  no sé lavar los platos, no puedo lavar los platos, ¡me importa un carajo lavar los platos!

Necesito ayuda, el centro médico de mis superiores jerarcas me examina, la mercancía está caduca, llegando al punto de descomposición, me envían un sobre que contiene una carta, así me entero de que soy deficiente, porcentajes cifras y números que delimitan mi sociopatía. Fui en busca de mi alma, aumentaron mi dosis de soma.

Tengo 26 años y no sé ser normal, ya estoy retirado, obtuve honores y medallas, preseas por mi valor y mi coraje. No puedo lavar los platos. No encuentro motivación alguna, no sé por qué estoy vivo.

Soy un héroe anónimo por 10 segundos en la conversación de unos extraños, soy un tipo invisible en el concreto de suburbio, soy una munición que se ha quemado, un cartucho vacío que nadie sabe dónde tirar a la basura y que algunos quieren conservar como souvenir para presumirlo el 4 de Julio.

Soy un Marine, soy un chico que no quería regresar vivo a casa, soy un desadaptado.

 “I wrote this after seeing the Pulitzer winner Photo Essay by Craig F. Walker, published @TheDenverPost, I had always wondered, what the life of soldires is like once they retire at the beginning of their lives, and this Essay struck me really hard, so I had to write about it.” -K 

See the Craig F. Walker’s Award winning Photo Essay:

Welcome Home, the story of Scott Ostrom by Craig F. Walker