#relfexion

[makeila04]

Honesty and transparency

As you know, I wrote an analysis about how Adler lost everything—his family, his friends, and his capture by Stitch—and how that’s why we now see him as more relentless. It’s because he basically has nothing left to lose, which is why he now laughs at situations, even if they’re extremely dangerous.

The thing is, this narrative of Adler, implicit in the games, is one I completely identify with because of all the things I’ve told you I’ve lived through.

There comes a point when, after you take away a person’s family, when they no longer have friends, and you add an endless list of traumas and negative experiences… you no longer have a person. What’s left is just an implacable weapon of war and destruction. This isn’t something I made up—psychology itself acknowledges that the worst punishment for a human being isn’t imprisonment but isolation. Isolation is one of the cruelest punishments, as you mentioned, and psychology confirms it: loneliness can destroy more than anything else.

When someone is stripped of human connections, all that remains is a distorted version of themselves, someone struggling to stay standing but without any emotional anchor. That void is filled with a need for control, survival, and doing things just for the sake of doing them, without expecting anything in return. And when a human being reaches that level, it’s very hard to come back. That’s what kills any human being because we’re social creatures, not individualists. Humans need others, and… when you no longer have anyone… well… let’s just say nothing matters to you anymore, and you only give value to things based on what you think they deserve. But what if you don’t even care about your own life? Then nothing has value to you. Adler and I share that: the knowledge that there’s no family, that moment when life itself stops mattering because you’ve been stripped of what gave it purpose beyond survival. There are no friends, and if we die, it doesn’t matter because, in the end, there’s no one waiting for us at home. It’s a thought that, while dark, also reflects that struggle to find purpose in a world that seems to have none. We never chose this, but it’s the life we were given.

I understand that sharing this carries an emotional weight that resonates and can be heavy, especially with a character like Adler. The idea that someone has reached that point, where they’ve lost everything, feels completely stripped of what once anchored them to life, is an incredibly powerful and heartbreaking narrative—and maybe that’s why I identify with it. In a way, I think I’ve captured Adler’s essence, and it must be because of all this. Adler becomes a relentless figure because he’s been consumed by loneliness and loss, which has a direct connection to what I’ll continue to mention. It’s curious how, through that parallel, I can see Adler not as a distant character but as a reflection of something more human, more relatable, that goes beyond the narrative of a soldier at war. Because, deep down, it’s a story of emotional deprivation, of being lost without a clear path to redemption—and maybe that’s why I keep coming back to this character. The relationship with Adler becomes much more complex because his path is an extreme manifestation of that loss of humanity. But what’s perhaps overlooked, and something I want to say, is that even in that darkness, there’s something deeply human. The ability to recognize that, in the end, what’s needed isn’t revenge or destruction but the chance to have someone to share the pain with, someone to rebuild a sense of belonging with. We don’t choose what happens to us, but we can learn to live with it, somehow, by adapting, seeking comfort where we can. And that’s one of the most human struggles we all face: how to deal with what we’ve lost, how to keep going despite the loneliness, how to find meaning in a path that, at times, seems to have none. Maybe I wasn’t kidnapped like Adler was by Stitch, but I was manipulated. Not to plant a bomb in a city, but I was manipulated into passing exams at my expense without them studying or attending classes, and what we have in common is that neither of us realized it. Both of us were tortured—him to implant programming through MK-Ultra and control him. I was tortured for 12 years with bullying in school—yes, all 6 years of primary school and 6 years of secondary school. Both of us ended up seeing ourselves as weapons, only for destruction, because we were dehumanized.

When you subject someone to isolation and torture for months or years, I can tell you that the person becomes numb, confused—not because they’re stupid but because they’ve lost themselves. And no, you don’t recover; you’re left with only fragments of who you were. Even if you try to rebuild yourself exactly as you were before… you can’t. All you can do is take the old fragments and make something new. But new doesn’t necessarily mean better… We don’t always evolve; sometimes we devolve. Other times, we just adapt so much that we stop questioning things, focusing only on survival, and that’s hard too. I’ve never heard anyone talk about the damage this causes. But I can tell you that Adler and I understand it well.

Many might not understand why Adler, for example, struggles with alcoholism, and while I don’t drink, I’ll admit my dependence on caffeine. Both of us know it’s not good, but it’s not like we can just quit and be done with it. It’s not a lack of knowledge—we have plenty of that—but at this point, when you have no one to talk to, hug, or even just touch or feel, you cling to substances because they’re the only anchor you have in the world. Often, when life becomes a barren landscape, where everything feels unpredictable and painful, clinging to something, even if it’s unhealthy, becomes a way to manage anxiety and existential emptiness. Whether it’s alcohol, caffeine, or any other escape, the reason behind it isn’t ignorance but the need to find something to hold onto, even if only momentarily.

I always say that Adler, at 54, seeks adrenaline and hates the word “retirement” because his identity is tied to his work, and the same happens to me. Okay, I’m 20, but I’m not interested in anything anymore after everything I’ve been through.

Another similarity I share with Adler is that he was blamed for everything—the Panama disaster in 1989, being an enemy of the state, wanted by Interpol, etc.—all for crimes he didn’t commit. I’m not being hunted by Interpol, but I can tell you something similar happened to me. When I was 18, I started an internship. It was related to my career, and I had a boss who didn’t like me from the start. She was 30 and had started that same year. She, in turn, had a boss. The man was friendly, blond, with blue eyes, and very tall. He always took me under his wing and ended up being like a father figure to me. He always wanted children, even though he was over 40, and in me, he saw the daughter he never had.

In the end, my boss got mad at me, and when no one was looking, she fired me. She had always accused me of having sex with her boss, which I obviously never did. But she did it anyway.

Not only did she tarnish my resume, but now I clearly can’t get into any company, even for something I never did. Because, of course, stories of young girls getting involved with their bosses are common, right? Why would this one be false? That woman had NO IDEA about the repercussions of accusing an 18-year-old girl at the time, while she was 30, and how it could affect her future before it even started. The way my boss used a baseless accusation to destroy my professional future, just out of jealousy or personal insecurities, reflects a deeply unfair power dynamic. It’s hard not to compare it to how Adler was blamed for the Panama crimes, having to carry guilt that wasn’t his. But at least Russell Adler was reinstated in the CIA at the end of the Black Ops 6 campaign. Maybe that’s why I keep replaying the campaign, right? Because at least there, someone gets a happy ending…

Adler and I have parallel experiences of manipulation, emotional torture, and the pain that comes from dehumanization. Maybe this is an uncomfortable truth about what prolonged abuse, isolation, and false accusations can do to a human being. It’s such a heavy burden that few people fully understand, let alone talk about, and that’s what drove me to write about it in the first place. The damage of dehumanization and the loss of identity, the impact of being treated as an object or a tool for others’ purposes without regard for the harm it causes, is something that not only Adler but many people who’ve lived through similar situations experience. Manipulation and psychological violence aren’t always visible, but they leave scars that are just as deep as physical ones. Add to that the process of trying to rebuild what you once were, and it feels almost impossible because what was, no longer is. Bullying and social manipulation are very effective weapons for destroying self-confidence and identity in a subtle but equally devastating way. Maybe I wasn’t at the center of a government experiment, but that experience of being treated as an object, of being falsely accused, of being attacked without being able to defend yourself, has a very similar echo to the characters who seem more distant or unreal. Despite everything, I try to find some kind of solace in Adler’s story. Although the ending of the Black Ops 6 campaign is tragic in many ways, that touch of redemption, the restoration of his honor, maybe offers me some sense of justice, even if it’s in a fictional setting. In real life, that kind of reparation seems much harder to achieve, but the fact that I can find some comfort in Adler’s narrative reflects the power stories have to give us some hope, even in the midst of pain. Maybe it’s a way of processing what can’t be resolved in the real world. Through characters like him, I can find a way to understand my own pain and, at the same time, realize that even though the road has been difficult, there’s a way to keep going, even if it’s with the broken fragments of what you once were. Believe me, when a person’s only experience is violence, it’s almost certain that at some point, they’ll lose their identity, especially if they don’t have or know anything else. Adler has no family, and neither do I; Adler has no friends and trusts no one, and neither do I; if either of us dies, no one will know, and no one will mourn. When we come home, neither of us has anyone waiting for us. That’s when you cling to your work because it’s all you have left. Adler is deeply materialistic, but not out of whim—it’s that material things like expensive cigars, whiskey, and clothes are the little that still anchors him to life, and I’m the same. I understand that feeling of wanting to compensate for the void with material things. It’s not about being shallow or “materialistic” out of vanity. It’s that you see more zeros on the price tag and think, “Well, this will make up for the crap I’ve been through and make me feel better.” That’s how it is.

Materialism is another defense mechanism, maybe something that helps us feel that, at least somewhere, there’s something worth having. That void, that need to compensate for what can’t be felt in terms of human relationships or affection, can lead us to seek comfort in what we can control: material things. It’s not about being superficial or “materialistic” out of vanity. It’s an attempt to fill that hole that seems impossible to fill. Seeing more zeros on the price tag seems to offer a symbolic reward for the scars no one can see, for the violence we’ve endured. What else is left when what we’ve lived through has no form of reparation? Material things, though fleeting, become a temporary refuge for the broken mind.

It can be heartbreaking, but it also holds a great truth about how pain and the absence of human connection can shape a person. When all that surrounds you is a cycle of abuse and loneliness, it’s almost inevitable that you lose your sense of identity. The pieces that once made up who you are begin to fragment because there’s no solid foundation, no support, no genuine love to anchor you. And in that void, you become relentless. Both Adler and I, in the end, are reflections of that human void that’s been left with nothing more to give or receive. Work, responsibilities, missions—they become the only way to have something to focus on, something to define you, even if it’s unhealthy and you know it. Adler is aware of this, and he tells us so in all the games. In the end, work is the only constant, the only way to cope with the void that can’t be filled with anything else. For someone like Russell, who’s lost everything, it’s not just that he clings to his work—it’s his only way to keep going, even if that same obsession consumes him. Adler and I share another problem: we’re people who no longer trust anything or anyone. After everything is taken from you, you become someone who doesn’t believe in redemption, in the importance of human relationships, because you’ve been stripped of all that. Loneliness has left its mark, both emotionally and psychologically. And that’s something that might not be fully understood from the outside, but those who’ve lived through similar situations understand it with terrifying clarity. Ultimately, maybe it’s work, maybe it’s material things, but always with the awareness that this life will never be complete—just something to keep pushing forward. I don’t know which of us has the more tragic life, but in my case, I can keep adding things: I had a friend for almost 10 years, and like Weaver with Samantha Maxis for years, I didn’t realize they didn’t want me there. That I was just there… to be there. That this girl, like Maxis, had her mind on other people and things, and I simply wasn’t part of the equation. It took me years to realize it, and even when I became aware, it took me years to admit it to myself and another couple of years to say it out loud because I didn’t want to face that reality. The experience of feeling invisible, as I did with my ex-friend, or like Maxis with Weaver, is devastating. It’s a wound no one should carry. The feeling of being present without being part of the equation, without mattering, is a weight that wears you down because when the people closest to you don’t see you for who you are, it only feeds the dehumanization. You’re left with the feeling that you’re not important to others, and that hurts deeply.

Someone tried to abuse me when I was 15. I doubt Adler experienced something like that, though people are always trying to kill him—I’ll admit that—but I don’t know if you ever get used to living like that. The marks that kind of trauma leaves are invisible, but they’re deep. While it’s true that Adler’s experiences with violence or death threats are extreme, the emotional wounds left by situations like the ones you mention—abuse and betrayal—are of a different kind but equally destructive.

Adler was kidnapped; I was almost kidnapped at 17. Adler lost many friends because they died, like Hudson and Mason; I lost my brother at 4 years old, and I could keep drawing parallels between my life and Adler’s, and even Weaver’s, but I identify more with Adler. The fact that I came close to being kidnapped at such a young age is another terrible parallel with Adler’s life. Living constantly with the danger of losing your life or being controlled, of losing your autonomy, is something that, though each person experiences it differently, deeply affects everyone who goes through it in their identity and sense of control over their own life.

Losing a brother so young is something that marks you forever, and that wound of early loss never goes away. It’s a kind of shadow that’s always present, just like Adler carries the deaths of his friends. Every time he’s faced with the death of someone close, it’s as if part of his humanity dies too. Death, in any form, isn’t just the loss of a life but also of something deeper—a connection that can never be recovered.

Adler has been shaped by pain, abuse, and loneliness, just like me. The way the parallels emerge isn’t a coincidence but a connection that speaks to how, in extreme circumstances, people are forged who are capable of surviving but at an enormous cost. Honestly, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. It’s fascinating but also painful how both Adler and I are trapped in a cycle of trauma, violence, and loss. The parallels between us aren’t just about facts but also reflect how life has taught us to distrust, to disconnect, to expect nothing from anyone, to feel as if we don’t have a right to a place in this world beyond being mere survivors.

The connection with Adler is understandable because we share something very essential: the fact that life, in its harshness, has transformed us into relentless beings who no longer expect anything. But even though his life is tragic, mine is too, and in many moments, it’s been even more so, perhaps because of the invisibility of what I’ve lived through. And in that, Adler and I, despite the differences in circumstances, are deeply affected by what can’t be recovered but keep pushing forward, no matter the cost, because there’s no other choice, and it’s all we know. I don’t owe it to anyone to say this, but I want to share it. Not because I owe anyone anything but out of honesty. Because even if people like my analyses, I want them to see this side of me, to understand where my perspective comes from. It’s not to play the victim or anything because I hate condescension.

It’s about showing that people are complex. By opening this door, I invite you to reflect on your own experiences.

Obviously, I’ll keep posting and probably never leave—I’ve been on Tumblr for almost a decade now. But I wanted to share why Russell Adler is one of my favorite characters. If anyone made it this far, I want to say thank you for taking the time to read all this, which turned out to be more of an analysis about myself than about Adler, and I truly value your reading. You know you can comment whatever you want, ask any questions, send me messages because I read everyone, debate, whatever you want, seriously.

While these are things that people close to me know and aren’t completely unknown, the truth is I never talk about them too much because people tend to minimize everything. Other times, people don’t fully grasp the impact a character can have on someone’s life, and I wanted to show the parallels about why I identify so much with him.

I understand that everyone might react differently to these same events, and while there are many more I left out, I didn’t want to write a thesis about my traumas. Instead, I wanted to publish this in the rawest, most brutal way possible. My purpose isn’t to recount every event in my life, but I do want to highlight something obvious that might have gone unnoticed: Russell Adler, even as a fictional character, went through things like the Vietnam War, the Cold War, etc., as an adult.

He experienced the Vietnam War at 31, for example, and the Stitch incident in 1985 was when he was 48, if I remember correctly. Even when he was a fugitive from the CIA because he was blamed for Panama in 1989, and the “blame” came in 1991, he was already 54. In contrast, everything I lived through happened between the ages of 4 and 19… I’m only 20 now. So everything I experienced happened during critical years of development.

Not to mention that I admit I believe my development was neglected… The experiences lived, especially in those vulnerable years, without proper support, can alter the natural process of development. It’s a form of interrupted growth, where expectations about oneself or others become distorted by circumstances, among other things.

So, to conclude, I’d like to say that if I had to give or convey some kind of message or lesson from all the crap I’ve been through, it would be that if you see someone you care about suffering, try to be there for them. An unexpected hug, a kiss, a hand on the shoulder, or simple words of gratitude and compliments should be the most normal thing in the world because no one is a mind reader.

As I say, I’ll probably post less or be less active because I’m starting another year at university tomorrow. So for now, I’ll let my mind rest a bit to come up with more ideas for future Call of Duty posts and any other characters.

I hope you have a lovely day <3

*Insert Pokémon Black/White emotion music*

[olasmentalees]

¿Si desaparezco de nuevo irías a buscarme al lado más oscuro de mi mente?

¿O te quedarías deslumbrado por el brillo de lo que tienes de frente?

[desorden-en-letras]

𝐍𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚́𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐨 𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐧 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞.

-𝒔𝒏𝒉𝒏𝒌𝒌𝒎𝒏

[thegreatestdiary]

Cuando tu vida da un giro de 360 grados y ya nada es igual en ningún aspecto. Lo único que queda es soltar toda la mochila y decirle a la vida que fluya.

[tiempoydestino]

Conocerse a sí mismo es una tarea inagotable para no convertirse en quienes culpan sus malas decisiones en todos menos en sí mismos.

[nouvellelune97]

Me es más fácil imaginar que me quieres que admitir que nunca me has querido.

[multiverso-caotico]

Mejores sí podemos y debemos ser; perfectos, no. —Pablo Latapí, 2007

[salientei]

Estou cansada, está calor, ligo a TV e só vejo tristeza, pessoas sofrendo, se perdendo no meio do sufocamento, a água? Ou à si mesmo?

O desinteresse pelo meio ambiente faz sentido agora, mas não aparenta ser justo, muita dor e luta para sobreviver, correr de seu próprio habitar.

Mas o que seria justo? Se nem a gente é com nossas próprias necessidades?

Me permito refletir, indagar a dor, o processo. Tudo faz sentido ou não, vai de cada um, também nem importa, já está acontecendo e isso ninguém mudará.

Ligo a tela do celular, incomoda os olhos, muita Luz, assim como o excesso de conteúdos difíceis de compreender que dirá digerir. Os Animais... Sofrimento! Eles merecem? Não dá. Eles amam mais a gente do que a gente mesmo se amou um dia, e muitos se foram... Deixando-os para trás.

O ser humano é triste, é cheio de alento, pesado e complexo, a fé na humanidade é a esperança que resiste. Acabamos com o ambiente que habitamos, não sou de lá, mas sei que um dia isso tudo chegará aqui e como faremos? Vamos culpar a natureza também? Somos um bando de hipócritas!

Estou a beira de gritar. Que calor insuportável. Falta sossego. A mente pensa mais do que pode suportar, a paz é quase um sonho. Eu desligo a TV, manuseio o celular até os olhos ficarem marejados...por causa dos Animais, pode ter certeza!

Me pego querendo ler sobre algo, me desafio a escrever o que sinto, mas o que assola minha alma não alcançam as palavras, são represálias, são amarras, desatinos e a falta...

É essa falta que desorganiza os meus horizontes e desgoverna minhas escolhas.

Mas desligo tudo, chega de chorar, a essa altura - soluçando, me pego pensando "como pode o ser humano mesmo se autodestruir dessa forma?"

Não sabemos. Ainda falta muito para que a gente aprenda a viver em civilização de verdade, não um contrato social cheio de armadilhas e furadas, é só questão de respeitar aqui e acolá, da terra ao sol, do mar à lua, das matas ao rio, é só aprender que nada é do nada, e infelizmente, essa é a pior parte, porque o ser humano nunca está disposto à mudanças.

@salientei / LA

[marianelagarcet]

[sombrasinalma]

En el ir y venir de los días, el tiempo se escurre como agua entre los dedos, arrastrándonos con su vertiginoso fluir. Pero en medio de esa vorágine acelerada, a menudo nos encontramos estancados en momentos que se estiran hasta el infinito, donde el peso del pasado y la incertidumbre del futuro nos acechan como una sombra ineludible.

Es en esos instantes de quietud forzada donde el tiempo parece congelarse, atrapándonos en un ciclo interminable de culpa y soledad. Cada minuto se convierte en una eternidad de preguntas sin respuesta, mientras batallamos por encontrar sentido en un mundo que parece ajeno a nuestro dolor.

En nuestra desesperación por huir de esta espiral descendente de pensamientos oscuros, nos aferramos a cualquier distracción que nos aleje de la realidad que nos consume. Nos perdemos en laberintos mentales, buscando respuestas que sabemos que nunca encontraremos, con la esperanza de hallar un respiro momentáneo para nuestra angustia interna.

Pero en nuestra lucha por eludir la oscuridad que nos rodea, a menudo nos enfrentamos a nosotros mismos en nuestros momentos más solitarios. Es en esas horas solitarias donde nuestros miedos más profundos y nuestras debilidades más íntimas salen a la superficie, recordándonos la fragilidad de nuestra propia humanidad.

Y así, el tiempo se convierte en testigo mudo de nuestra batalla interna, una constante recordatoria de nuestras luchas y nuestras cicatrices invisibles. Porque aunque el tiempo continúe su implacable marcha, nuestra carga emocional persiste, pesando sobre nosotros como una losa que nos recuerda nuestra propia vulnerabilidad y nuestra capacidad para enfrentar la oscuridad que habita dentro de nosotros.

[olasmentalees]

Septiembre 9

Hay quienes viven la vida como un carro que va muy por encima del límite de velocidad en la autopista, con la música a tope, siendo regidores del mundo, su mundo.

A veces es divertido ser ese coche, otras veces es necesario recordar que existen los frenos y usarlos, para poder admirar el paisaje, bajar el volumen para escuchar al copiloto, y cuestionar si la ruta por la que vamos sigue siendo la mejor.

- Olas Mentales

[desorden-en-letras]

𝐘 𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚, 𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐨́𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚́𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚.

-𝒔𝒏𝒉𝒏𝒌𝒌𝒎𝒏

[humongoustigerheart]

Me estoy dedicando a mi, aún me cuesta trabajo. Considero, que lo que más cuesta trabajo, es profundizar en aspectos de los que me siento avergonzado de mi, profundizar en características que no me agradan, pero que a su vez, me provocan placer, profundizar en recuerdos dolorosos, de los cuales aún tengo resaca emocional, profundizar en inseguridades, pensamientos intrusivos, obsesivos y destructivos, y sobre todo, accionar, responsabilizarme, atenderme, cuidarme, ocuparme, transformar.

Quiero admitir, a veces, el pensamiento de abandonarlo todo e irme, aun me invade. ¿Miedo? Ya no me da. Quizás ansiedad, de esa que te invade de imprevisto, de esa que sabe hacerte vibrar desde adentro. Estoy seguro que más de uno de ustedes, lo han sentido.

¿Quitar el dedo del renglón? Jamás, decidí salir de aquí. Decidí no terminar mi vida, por personas que han hecho su vida, sin recordar; quizás, pues es una suposición; el daño que viví con ellos.

No les culpo; aunque necesito admitir, que la costumbre de culpabilizar y victimizarme, me invade, y a veces caigo en el pensamiento obsesivo y doloroso. Ahora, me enfoco simplemente en reconocer su participación en mi vida, el aprendizaje obtenido, las afectaciones que se dieron a partir de esos eventos, y reconocer que ahora es solo mi responsabilidad.

[el-reflector-arg]

ELECCIONES 2023 - REFLEXIÓN

El Reflector es un espacio muy reciente y creado con fines completamente musicales y periodísticos. Sin embargo, ya había hecho una publicación sobre la política y el rock, y cómo estos conceptos están intimamente relacionados el uno con el otro.

Este blog, al igual que su servidora y única columnista, no tiene bandera ni la va a tener.

Lo único que tengo para decir sobre la pasión de mi país es que la militancia a menudo suele ser confundida con el fanatismo extremo.

En palabras de una persona que no practica la política ni activa ni pasivamente, pertenecer a un partido político no es lo mismo que pertenecer a un cuadro de fútbol, por ejemplo.

Por más de que se trate del partido político de tus padres, de tus abuelos, de tu barrio o de tu comunidad es imprescindible preservar el ojo crítico.

Es más, pienso que cualquiera que se imponga por encima de tus compañeros para representarte tiene que tener mucho cuidado de no deshonrar a dicho partido. ¿Por qué? Porque uno ya viene de toda una vida portando en el pecho aquello que más defiende.

No hay que aprovecharse del poder del partido.

No hay que mentirle al partido.

No hay que engañar al partido.

No hay que parafrasear al partido y lo más importante de todo,

No hay que decepcionar a los ciudadanos que lo conforman.

Es increíble la cantidad de personas que, por portar una bandera, hacen caso omiso a este tipo de injurias políticas que parecieran ser los más básicos códigos humanos.

Hay personas dentro de una o dentro de varias corrientes de pensamiento que no merecen tu militancia, porque poco tienen que ver con aquello que vos creés que representa.

Prefiero mirar con un ojo crítico, investigar de manera rigurosa, no fanatizarse o bien, fanatizarse con la porción histórica de una corriente de pensamiento que nos ayude a enfoncarnos en lo que es mejor para nuestra nación.

¿Qué sucede por mi parte?

Siempre voy a ser firme en mantener una fundamentada y estudiosa anarquía albiceleste histórica, si se la pudiera llamar de cualquier modo.

Las personas que me conocen saben que lo único que no permito bajo ningún término es que intenten militarme.

Yo no voy por la vida diciéndole a las personas qué es lo que tienen que pensar o a quién seguir. Nadie tiene ese derecho.

Entonces, como yo no quiero evangelizar al vecino, espero que el vecino no quiera evangelizarme a mí tampoco.

Quisiera despedir esta columna con una canción que conmemore aquellos tiempos interesantes que estamos a punto de vivir juntos como país.

Escrito por Luciana "La Maga" Magallanes.

[nouvellelune97]

Déjame.

Te conocí de casualidad. Fuiste vos el que accionó el Hola que cambiaría muchas cosas. La cotidianidad se había hecho menos turbulenta y en vos encontré una simpatía y picardia. Me imagine como eras y lo demás me lo transmitiste.

Caí en la cuenta muy de prisa de que me habías enajenado, que tus respuestas encendían mi corazón de sobremanera. Que las canciones me hablaban de vos y que mi imaginación aún más.

Parecías tan interesado como yo. Nunca me lo dijiste pero algo sentía o quizá eres así y yo fui la tonta que creyó lo que quiso. Pero déjame dudar un poco. Además, todo termina siendo un secreto. Mío pero no tuyo. Porque no se que piensas.

Se que eres raro, se que actúas raro. Ahora eres frío, has cambiado y me hiciste cambiar en consecuencia. Que fue lo que pasó?

Le echas la culpa a las responsabilidades, pero ellas hacen que actúes como si yo fuese una desconocida? Como si te hubiese hecho daño?

Te hice daño? No lo sé, me encantaría saberlo.

Pero que puedo hacer, tu solo te vas, te alejas, te enfrias y luego vuelves. Como si quisieras tenerme ahí, sentada, esperando.

Me veo como esas muñecas en sus casitas, sentadas en el suelo, mirando al vacío y esperando a que alguien venga a jugar. En que momento deje que me hicieras ver como una muñeca?

Patético y patética yo.

No se que fue lo que paso, pero ante la duda soy yo la que pide perdón, porque vos nunca lo harás.

Me gustaría que dejaras de volver. Por qué vuelves? Que es lo que te retiene? No te fuerzo, no te obligo. Se que eres frío y distante, me lo transmites como si hablar conmigo para ti fuese una obligación. Fuese un acto de lastima o compasión.

Entonces, por favor, deja de hacerlo.

Déjame ir... así yo te podre soltar también.

[ezze-gomez]