Every day I walk through these dirty streets, from my house to work and vice versa and I can not help but be moved by the sight of so many people who wander with a lost look or head down.
People who have not eaten People who do not know what to do or where to go. People who rummage in the garbage and with their eyes scrutinize without dissimulation, in whatever you carry in your hands.
You get with friends with twenty kilos less and with acquaintances who embarrassingly try to hide a bag, with half a kilo of cassava or maybe two ripe bananas, since that is the only thing they can take home to eat.
You see malnourished children, sitting on the sidewalks with their mothers, while waiting from early morning, in long lines to open the store of the Chinese supermarket because it seems that rice arrived.
There is no talk of anything other than cursing the regime and its mentors. You ride a dilapidated bus or a ruinous taxi and you only hear of shortages, hunger and misery and you realize that there is no traffic in the streets and avenues. You understand that it is because the car park is reduced every day, since there are no rubbers, oil, or spare parts.
The schools do not comply with the evaluation plans in time, because the teachers have left the country. The young and lately the not so many, flee in terror to neighboring lands, of a thousand-headed monster called Chavismo. The banking platforms are collapsed and there is no cash. People are dying of decline in hospitals and the costs of clinics are unpayable because the coverage of the policies does not cover anything ...
But one says: "forward ..." "It's not long ..." "I have faith ..." "I'm an optimist ..." "I trust in God ..." and meanwhile the country is going away. ..
Foto: Imagenes de Google
Scarcity knocks on your door, hunger is there, on the opposite sidewalk, and time runs and passes inexorably and incompassively.
It is nauseous to see and hear how the immoral cynics mock the plight of the Venezuelan people and while this happens in any street and on any day, Maduro dances ... Rude and cowardly is chained to say that these carnivals have been the best in the history of Venezuela. At the same time you listen to an alienated "actor" lunatic, plugged and flattering to say that currently "Venezuela lives with the best economic and political model of its history", when an egg carton is around 600,000 Bs or read that the disgusting and detestable minister of penitentiary affairs, states that "Colombians escape from narco-politics and seek refuge in Venezuela ..." Then one indignant and upset to the marrow wonders:
Even when the offensive and sadistic cynicism of a twisted and sick regime hurts and wounds a broken and kidnapped country ...?
Will the cruelty and perversity of these criminals have limits ...?
Can one be indifferent to so much ignominy and humiliation, on the part of a stinking court of wealthy and powerful criminals, without flinching and feeling deeply outraged ...?
I do the impossible so that this mishmash of sadness, discouragement and anger does not confront my other "I" and envelop and pollute that part of me that is full of optimism and hope and that tells me daily that nightmare and horror are about to end ... Then I ask myself:
Will the "homeland, homeland, beloved homeland" of them be more than the "I carry your light and your aroma in my skin ..." of us ...? And I firmly answer: I do not believe ... !!!
