Cuarenta y dos…

It’s been 42 days since tears came out. Arithmetic is not my strength, though. What’s causing this immensely trivial heartache? Foreign lands. New step in the overcrowded ladder. Distant love. Delusional surroundings with minds that give me electroshocks. It’s a ticking time bomb, metaphorically speaking for all you terrorphobics.

How is it possible to live in a world full of arrogance, egotism, deception, disconnection? I’m not impressed by your ready-to-crumble skyscrapers, self-appointed progressive minds, and we’re-not-all-like-that individuals.

I’m crying for the past 500 years of lies, and the past 42 days of living them. It’s not the end of the world, but it’s the end of my world as I knew it.

Mami, come on Skype and let me know I will get used to it. You’re wiser than me; remind me where I’m coming from. Mexico, represent! I cannot see home, anymore. I just hear the roots drying, the soil crumbling, and the wind going in another direction.  They eliminated us.

I wanted to give you a voice, just like they do. I forgot that I don’t even have a voice. I’m so ashamed of you. You’re so weak, so corrupted. You have believed everything they indoctrinated us to believe.

Let’s be friends, and write our own history. The world will not be like they know it.