My autobiography.
This is something my mind has been thinking lately, and yet have not found the way to forget it. Why? because it is how my behavior has been shortening my experience, an experience that could have been better, always better. And yes, I feel apologetic about almost all the wrong doings I have done to other people, people who have given me an opportunity, people who have opened their hearts and minds, to later realize the pain I am, a pain that has only been there since the day I was born, a mixture of things, a mixture of conditions that generate my negative behaviors, which are my extreme shyness and sadness about almost everything, creating in the process regret and assholeness, to later be who I am, a pessimistic person with lots of anger, a person with no bridges to burn anymore, as I immediately burn them as they appear, kind of like a noisy bird who is constantly harassing other birds.
Well, what made me think about this and that is my memories and those left behind, those friends I still care, and will always care, even thou I could express the opposite, you see, the angry bird there, I still seen them with high regards, as they were there, in that moment of time, with me, being...
So this is like a nano-autobiography about my friends from Venezuela, Maracaibo, Miami and Melbourne.
In Maracaibo, I used to be kind of like an artist, a randomly street artist with no real future, but a real atmosphere, as I loved every inch of the people who lived around me and were part of my world, even thou drama was a constant environment in which I revolted, I loved them all, even if I hated them for mistakes done, as I also did them, I went back and tried to ease the pain, transforming it into art, street art. Philosophical tool for those who think and transverse into atoms of scenarios and solutions, feelings and deception, a regular teenage lizard peasant.
So I miss my friends over there, friends that are now living their foundations, whatever they created, they now have their expectation built as they have worked for them, but that's also part of my frustration in a way, as living with them, seeing them grow, have their life mature, I indirectly and subjectively feel envy in some cases, a natural envy but mixed with that kind of pain and shyness provokes in my a turmoil of negativism, kind of like more pessimism than ever, but I forget and I continue.
In this chapter of my life I always gonna have my friends in another level: David, Topo, Harry, Guille, Sondra, Flor, Ana, Elizabeth, Ileana, Nelson, PIpo, el Pits, Alan, Michele, Maria C...not many as I were and still am shy and obsessed. That obsession is the capital of my deception as it give me no intention to ever conquer it, but I did, and I lived for once when I was in Maracaibo back there in 2002-2003.
That 2003 when I came back to the states, where I studied college, graduated and then connected with my friend Mario and Ileana, two strange and yet beautiful friends, and since we were from the same place we shared more time than we should have shared, building kind of like the core of Miami still is for me, a wasteland of opportunities, but I think, not, therefore I dont exist.
those 10 years, working, fixing and remembering what I was, becoming something else, I ventured into a more psychopathic state of loneliness and shyness. a rebellion waiting to burst.
Then I started a degree in Computer Science, something I could have finished if I weren't that negative, but not, I got super depress, of course, not having friends nor a girlfriend hurt me the most. Of course I burned bridges, due to me being also very selfish, with shyness, dementia and negativism.
so I moved to Australia, the golden country of thef and nationality, plus a twist of everything in between, were I was in the center of a movement, the occupy Melbourne one, that, that changed my life.
In there I met with the greatest people I have ever gonna met, or have yet to meet.
Nicky, and she is a special case, as I treated her so good and then so bad, that I will never gonna forget about her, and what I told her, and in a sense that's why i understand feminist.
and this is my story with her: I met her in the occupy movement, she was shinning all over the place, with her pale expression of also pain, intelligence and beauty I had the strength to talk to her, and we kind of talked, since I am not the talkative person others are, at least we kind of understood each others for the moment I was good.
that changed of course, it changed because I was gathering lots of self-steam, that thing one could name it courage or bravery, and that distorted my relationship with her, thinking that I could conquer my true love, and changing my lifestyle for once, into a more political and personal way. I thought, hey, if I have all this confidence I could use it to gain political power and go back to Venezuela and helped lots of people with my organizational skills and writings, so yes, I can do that, and if I can do that I can talk to Beth, and maybe hang out with her, but I can't do that if I am in a relationship with Nicky, so that's how my mind works, so that day, that day i sat in church to think about my future, i realized I could that all that and be ok with everything, but when I told Nicky what was on my mind, like always, and thats something I have to fix, i felt something greater for her, something different, and I could not go back in time to change it, so that same day I changed, kind of like if my heart got divided, and that division created more pain than ever, I then lost all my courage and became a slug, a puppet of my wrong decision.
So Nicky, I am sorry for what I caused you, my behavior was the worst thing I have done in my life and in my defense, it was because I felt so much pressure within myself not to be the asshole I am. but I try not to be.
between that the occupation and the people who were there, amazing people, being there with their life, mashing the normality of a city of people who works and enjoys, people who protest and claim, people who are being taken apart from their culture and people who have left their culture for a better life, all that in one of the biggest island of all, a mini continent called Australia.
Some of the people I always remember and inspired me are: Brandon, meeting him gave me no limitation of what I can do or not, as he showed me that there are no limitation to a dedicated mind. Dave, Johan, a friend that taught me that life is simple, just do it and take it, step by step until you have reached your goals, then Sara, who i see as the heroine a movement needs, her with such life and risk, did what no one has done, at least no one in a political-activist environment i seen have done it, and it is to live freedom, freedom in a poisoned city of hopes and miracles. then Scot, you know he was right in his wrongdoings, well, I became part of the herd than to changed the situation, yet, who i was to do it as i was basically and observant who went far, very far, becoming part of the movement, a movement of people who occupied the central plaza of Melbourne, were everyone passes in order to move to some other place, so imagine.
another friend i miss is the guy who started this page, because he showed my the 'situationist' a movement I love and I am, even thou it is over, it is not. and her sister, but that's some strange 'situation' as i know her boyfriend who is a talented guerrilla freedom fighter, but he hurts her by being very chauvinistic about it, so i messed a little, yet, i did it because i thought that i haz to do it, once because i cared about her as i cared about his brother, and also because i liked her in a way, sorry for that but yea, i liked you, if you are reading this, and i liked you because of those 2 reasons and i am very statistic about every movement i do, i found that i would have heaven if i could manage to build a relationship, yet, i did nothing, as i always do.
and then came Sora, a lost children of all the occupation, just after i was leaving, i found her in the shadows of my demise and she gave me some shelter, by being there when i needed, not the case for her, as i think i wasn't there for her when she needed me.
and one other thing, Connie was almost right about everything, as she was also there to find a sanctuary, she saw the opposite.
so, i here in Miami, trying to make sense out of my life, as all those memories pile over, i find myself in deep shit, my own shit i am covered, and cant find the way to use it to produce energetic actions, not just randomly words with some structural feelings.
so, i am writing this just to remember those moments of life i had when i was experiencing life.
this is just an abstract as there are more and more people i have a story to tell, this are just the tip of the iceberg, so i would love to go to Maracaibo and call them and invite them to eat something and drink something as the same in Australia...
goodbye, and well, im still here, writing and reading...