never had an existential crisis. I have had periods of emotional insanity, I accept, of losing my mind for days, but not a crisis of such breakdown. He took me this Saturday night, when I was walking down Sixth Street, dodging the ecstatic young and fashionable bars. Suddenly came the thought, fear, paranoia, depression. For one thing worried me to see so many people gathered looking environment, because the truth is that in Tijuana and was reassured that I do not believe (when the reality of the country's violence and insecurity, is hard to feel free), on the other hand, perceived negative energy, black, which sucked me into the gloom. Men and women (or budding) willing to do anything ... everything sensorial.
was somewhat confusing, intense, led me to imagine scenarios evicted in the social field, social consciousness, social improvement. That led me to a series of questions that every time I was rounding up more, until a haunting sense of claustrophobia, claustrophobic in my own body. I tried to flee.
On the way I kept feeling increasingly weak, full of questions without apparent response, full conjecture between hopelessness and crime because I thought poverty, loneliness, emptiness and trigger sociopathies cocktail (and I mean the crime). And I got to Question Maximum, between chest pain, irregular breathing and weakness in the extremities: What is the meaning of life? Does my life? Does all life? I value myself frightened recluse, look at my (select, few, little) human interaction and my fears about the outside world where nothing that protects me, where all judge, where the need for vigilance. That voracious environment, separatist.
was an overwhelming feeling that forced me to get out of the reverie to ask on the psyche of those who can not find any reasons: the sinoportunidades, the marginalized, the poor (resource, mind, spirit), the hungry, the abused, the illiterate, nullified, the forgotten. Position me as an individual to humanity, assuming that my abstractions can be any, for all without exclusivity. There was much confusion, no answer and saw the darkness, I understood. I felt out of your mind forever, I was never let go of these phobias, phobia, no future, a phobia for what? And I had to express my Beat: I'm freaking out .
paralyzed. As if life had stopped, as if death came. Terror that absorbing my soul. Limp, almost catatonic state, my musings were looking for answers in areas such as religion, philosophy and politics. Is it something that gives meaning to my existence? If you believe that after life there is a paradise, might be worth the wait. But I do not. Where are my answers? What drives me, what drives us "to live? Does the affection of others? Do I have not had children? Any consumer social setting that I succumb? Success? The more questions appeared more hypothesis was elucidated, because I do not like unanswered questions.
Hours later, asphyxia did start to fade to Love: So I began to recover. Of life as a way to empathy. Of love to overcome selfishness. Of love to build self-esteem. Of love to bring to the world. Of love as a principle to distinguish truth and justice, and his counterparts. Of brotherly love, carnal love, intellectual love. But his chest still felt tight. Do I aspire only to love? My years here are to love, to feel love? What selfishness! What am I doing to help clean up so much sadness, so much inequality? "Love me and love others? Then I saw
further leakage of that pressure cooker it was my brain: I can write, I can post, and I have much to say. The blog is an identity that shows me and hide me, is where I try to demystify a city in first person, as if we were a single entity: its murals and my tattoos, bars and my vices, its contrasts and my sanity, their brutality and my amazement. But in journalism that is less romantic intent: to show the truth, because truth liberates.
I could depressurize my chest a little more when I turned to politics, in terms of public policy and its relationship with social journalism, which categorize as' inevitably subversive. " Because journalism is not will draw from the unfortunate misfortune, but it may help to understand why it is unfortunate, to understand who is to claim the abandonment (of him, millions like him), to understand where we are going, turning to see the similarities, show options to organize a movement for change, demonstrate that there has to be unhappy. helped Yes, I consoled myself for a while. I'm not a total waste of time [and place] middle-class entertaining with petty desires. No. That's another, far too many. But soon I came to the defense of hedonism, because pleasure is not exclusive to the privileged.
There I saw two paths that reassured me: subversion and hedonism. Two responses were added to love. I began to find meaning in life, the less reason for not giving up. Small sparks at the end of the pit. I understood the necessity of teaching art to children and stupidity that is for adults to go to museums, in terms of social improvement. Snobs. I realized, too, the importance in the purification offering nature and the cosmos, and the cruelty of those who can not leave their routines at the lack resources (confined to the concrete, forced to overcrowding). I also in vain, those who seek the approval of those who consider their peers because they want to be noticed, because they are eager Farandulera, and lamented their waste of energy, that which is directed only to the self.
bombing was a bombing-which, as was noticed. Puuuuuuuuum! I thought, indeed, would fail to leave the pit and I thought (actually, too) those who wonder what it must take antipsychotics and antidepressants. I thought, than all those who do not ask what is the meaning of life? should be for the asylum, and that those questions answered at any frivolity to continue lost in their everyday nonsense (which may, of course, do more) are mistaken or just already dead. Yes, after I instruct crisis.
The antidote I gave my Beat, before the stroke that was to suffer, was a dose of Emil Michel Cioran's aphorisms and water melon. They were good first aid, thanks, I already feel better.
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