My two pennies' worth (All My Angels - Part II)

If there's one thing, and only thing, that 2019 has made crystal clear, is that I miss me. I miss the guy I used to be. This year has been the roughest of my life, and by a big margin at that; twice now have I held a loaded gun to my head, twice now I've given up on myself. This is the second part of the post that was meant to be my suicide letter.

This post is dark, very dark; but, if you bear with me, it gets better, way better, by the end. It's still dark, though.

As usual I'd like to start with an apology. The plan was to publish a post a week, and not only I vanished for over 2 months after only 2 weeks, now that I'm back I realise that's a promise I won't be able to keep. But I will try my best to publish at least every fortnight.

If 2019 has been the worst of my 31 years on this world, August certainly takes the crown as the worst month of 2019. By August 8th, my nephew's birthday - and the first time in 20 years I wasn't gonna see him that day: he lives in a different country now -, I had decided, once again, to leave this world on my own terms. And it was sort of poetical that the last words I would've ever said were going to be "Happy birthday, nephew, I love you", over Duo - yes, we're cool, we don't do Skype -.

I swear by now I can recognise the cold of a gun when it touches my skin. Right there and then I got a notification, odd, I'm so lonely I can swear my phone can go for days without making a sound. Arsenal had signed Kieran Tierney. Great! I lowered my gun just to read the news, good news. I felt sad I was going to miss the new kids as gunners, just a week before they had signed Nicolas Pépé, and that was exciting enough. Gun back to head, another notification, my grandpa. Odd. He's 90 years old and using a phone is quite possibly the hardest thing he ever had to do. A picture of a pricey bottle of rum. A mistake, something meant for WhatsApp stories. Followed by an apology for sending it to me and a "I love you, you should come visit soon". I was never going to see my grandpa again, my favourite person in the world. Not only that, I was to be the 3rd grandkid he'd have to bury. I knew how much the other 2 had hurt, him and me and everyone else; I convinced myself he wouldn't survive mine.

Maybe I simply was too scared, maybe I've never been one for decisions so final. Maybe the logic of a permanent solution to seemingly temporary problems was, well, inexistent. Or maybe I just didn't want that bitch to think I committed suicide just because she left me, as if a relationship not working was such an unusual thing. What hurts is the lies, being played, being made a fool, being cheated on, that's what hurts. And the money, that hurts a lot too.

Those views are still so appealing...

Amidst the plethora of bad decisions I made that day - which involved but are not limited to: recreational drugs, alcohol and guns -, I had the good fortune to check a YouTube notification for the the alpha m. video of that day and, coincidentally, the always awesome Aaron Marino had just published a video on how to go from "nice guy" to "bad boy" in 30 days, and I had the sense to go ahead and listen. One of the main things the how-to requests is to stay away from social media for a month. Which I did, for like 95% of the time. That counts. In any case, that's a big part of why I didn't post back then.

Country at War

For those of you outside of Venezuela, understanding what's going on here might be borderline impossible. Chaos is a rather simplistic word to describe the situation. I'll try to explain with a couple examples, and urge you to try your best to understand the gravity of my words: A salary man on minimum wage currently makes 2 US$, a month. A burger right next door costs 7US$. 18 lts of water (refill) cost 0.5 US$. A salary man can have a bit over a third of a hamburger - with fries, no drinks - a month, or buy 72 lts of water. Not both. Needless to say, crime rate is on perpetual rise.

During protests - that seem to randomly activate and get a lot of traction every couple of months - we're butchered by the police. Our politicians - from the so-called opposition - betrayed us for a couple coins. People are running away from the country, literally. Hundreds of fellow Venezuelans cross the borders to Colombia and Brazil, by foot, on a daily basis. Families are torn apart, friends never to meet again, lovers sharing a last shag. Every. Single. Day.

Some of us remain here cause we've fought for what we have, cause we still have reasons. Most of us feel it's not worth it, nobody is right or wrong, at times it feels it's just a matter of how long can you last, cause there's no hope. I myself consider leaving almost every day, but not just yet. I've been in this bloody sinkhole for 20 years now, I'd love nothing more than to see this get to it's bitter end. I'm not sure I will.

Venezuelans crossing the border to Colombia.

A Birthday and an Anniversary

Besides me and my nephew - much more like a son, to me - crying for a couple minutes during our call on his birthday, there was also - 3 days later - the death anniversary of my cousin. I swear, I'm not that strong.

I hated this August and that's sad, because my birthday was a rather nice day. I had lunch with my ex - no, not that twat; the only one that deserves to be called my ex, the one that truly loved me for over 7 years -, who I hadn't seen in a while, it was good to catch up; I saw my family and friends, ate pizza, even got a date. Pretty cool birthday overall, except it wasn't what I had in mind months before. I had my mind set on going on a trip to Margarita, eat lots of pizza, rest in the beach and pop a couple Mai Tais. Pizza never fails, that's a good thing.

Hail Revan!

Darth Zids

No, no. Don't give me that. This wouldn't be my post, my blog, without some nerdiness in it. A couple of days ago my best friend pointed out how closely my life was starting to resemble that of Revan. (Check the link if you don't want - and want to - know who Revan is.) You see, Revan was a quite promising Jedi, up until the time a war broke and the Jedi Council decided not to take action, basically dooming the Republic, and, in Revan's - and a lots of others - eyes, betraying the Jedi Code. I've always thought I would've sided with Revan there and then. In a nutshell, Revan was betrayed. For years, everything he had known, was a lie. Take away all the war stuff, and that is, somewhat, what happened to me. The person I trusted the most in my life, my Jedi Council so to speak, betrayed me.

Then came Darth Revan. He decided to disobey the Council and wage war on his own, with all those who shared his vision and stood by him. Little by little, with every battle, every victory; he started fading into the Dark Side. After a while he was no longer Revan, he became a Darth, but he still was not evil, not entirely. He sought to use the Light and the Dark for the greater good. And he was misunderstood. He's an Illidian, or a Kerrigan or sorts. I have such a spot in my heart for those kind of characters, it almost makes sense I'd also walk a similar path. No, I don't go around kicking dogs or pushing old people; but I am certainly not the nice and good fellow my ex took advantage of.

And if August was the worst, September was the best month of the year. Still a crappy year, but with a good month of redemption. I spent very little time on social media and a lot more time getting drunk, high and chatting up strangers. I made - or, actually, upgraded - new friendships, hit the gym a lot, ate healthier and overall tried to improve myself. All the while, I was being a complete pillock. I told people to piss off when I felt like it, I lied with a straight face, I even used people and then ghosted them. I pretended to like crappy music I hate, to want children, not to care if my dates had children, to be bi, to be in love, to be in a relationship. I was the worst, and it came with no punishment.

And then came the moment I had waited for: I dated this girl over 10 years younger than me. A girl my ex knew. A girl my ex hadn't liked before cause she thought she was somewhat into me. I admit it, it was payback in a way. I even made sure, for a change, that she knew about it. I almost never post pictures of myself in social networks, I had easily gone longer than a month without posting, but then I did. I don't know if it hurt or not, but I have one less follower now.

The truth is, even if it started it as a bit of a vendetta, I certainly did it for me. Bloody hell, I wasn't even the one who started it. You see, there's a certain novelty in knowing that you're better at something than people a decade younger than you. It must be what CR7 and Messi feel when they win a Ballon d'Or nowadays, or what Federer and co. taste when those 20 something kids get smashed 6-0, 6-0, 6-0 by them. It's an ego booster, to say the least.

So, I don't know if I'll follow the steps of Revan and eventually go back to the Light, but I do know this, I enjoy this dark version of me. A long time ago fellow gamers used to call me Zids, that was my nickname everywhere, I loved Zidane, I still do. From now on, I might even go as Darth Zids.

A picture kids these days won't get.

Doggy Catchphrases

If there are a couple of lines I'm sick and tired of hearing the past couple of months they are "Let go" and "Move on". In a nutshell, the quintessential utter tosh kids these days are growing with. Don't get me wrong, this isn't a rant, I'm genuously worried - and sad - that the younger generations are being made so weak.

It seems like these days if something isn't easy, it isn't worth it. We're raising a generation of quitters and cowards. Life isn't easy, you twats. The best things in life, the ones that really matter, that you really care about, those are the ones you have to go in the mud and get your hands dirty struggling for. A piece of real advice in a catchphrase, since you love them so much, "what easy comes, easy goes".

I have one particular friend that is so twisted by the rubbish of centennial mindset that he simply does as he is told by his partner; in all aspects, in his life, his friendships, his career, everything. He's what she wants him to be. And then pretends he's cool with it, he convinces himself to believe it; because he can't afford to accept his relationship isn't perfect, cause then that would mean it's not worth it, as it wouldn't be easy. It's sad, real sad. I hope, for he's sake, that his partner is not a lying slag like mine turned out to be, otherwise he's in for a rough ride of truth.

I'm so glad I grew up with Rocky Balboa, sports and basically every real success story in the world. I'm happy I got shown that success comes with effort, that things that matter are worth fighting for. That winners are not quitters. I'm happy I'm not a wanker that got everything handed to him by his family and pretends he's the best. I'm awesome, I'm the best; because I wake up every day and decide I'm taking what I want, and I'm fighting for it.

I'm also really tired of people pretending you have to forgive everyone that wrongs you intentionally. No, you don't. In fact, if you, I'm calling rubbish on that. How many songs has Taytay written whining about her exes? How many has Eminem where he just shames the ones that don't approve of him? They might no longer has any hold over you, but that doesn't mean you have to be nice and forgiving, be human, use your hate.

So, here's my two pennies' worth, if you ever come at me with one of those catchphrases, I'm blocking you. Deal? Deal.

The last thing she ever told me was that she didn't regret a single thing we lived together. Back then I had no comments, right now I can say I regret it all; if I could go back and do it again, I would never even look at her. Worst mistake of my life.

I don't know what the future holds, but I'll be back with a new much lighter post in 2 weeks. Stay tuned, mates! Totes of love!