few months ago I wanted to write something in a prayer to exclaim something like "when you're 22." I wanted to take a picture of my ideas, sensations and feelings of young Argentine, the south of Gran Buenos Aires (that part of the country which is neither capital nor the interior), a student of Communication at the University of Buenos Aires, handed, musician, writer hint of 22 years. Save a text a piece of me, a little bit of my soul, something that within a few years back to read and think about what I am at this point in my life. Therefore, I will proceed to leave a piece of my soul this morning, Sunday, February 4, 2007 at eight o'clock.
When one is twenty years is something like the Gran Buenos Aires, a stage of life where there is not a place or another, but rather in a sort of limbo time between what was and what will be. First, I make it clear that I personally feel that way, some people I know are or behind or beyond, but not my case, I'm in the middle, I am neither one thing nor the another. This is a strange feeling to have 22, one feels compelled to think about the future. And I think it costs a lot. If there is something that I always felt is the fear of reaching a certain age and discover that you became something else. To illustrate, I quote a friend who once said something like, "do you remember when we were left-handed?" (Referring to an encounter with an acquaintance in the future.) And that is my fear, to wake up one day and say "Oh God, what have I done?". Stop being me, of wanting what I want to turn into an average employee who criticized the country from his chair and tell the young things like "I was your age too well, but the world is another thing." Finally, murder. Killing all that I am. In other words, die. My biggest fear is that 22 years: Dying.
Moreover, there is the solitude. In 2006 I was feeling like a little bit for some time had been my daily routine was crumbling. I began to feel I was alone. The inside will want to move to the Capital and the Capital would not pull through. And I here in the Greater Buenos Aires, feeling more and more tortuous travel at 112 to the faculty. I am no longer so easy in others as a while, if at some point I could find. It was so easy to construct a time to share moments. So easy to get an hour of the night in the home and place our humanities Nosequien in different sectors, listening to music which gradually became a list of topics that today myself exhausted me, bores me. And sharing a night of nothing. And live every minute like every other minute but with a sense of belonging, time for me, for you, for us, our times, which no longer exists. The time is no longer ours. There is no time except for a waste of neurons ethyl a Saturday night, something which is not time. It is time for time is eternal, is a variable that one has for anything. The time of the weekend, the time of the hours between the arrival of the Capital at the time of sleep, no more than a spending and savings if you spend not accumulate. Because if there is something that distinguishes what is now I am no longer accumulated time, time for X, all the time in the world. And that is one of the reasons why I have what I fear to loneliness. Somehow, the gleaning me to stay in Buenos Aires and manage time in a way that allows me to continue being myself. But I find nothing. And that's a feeling that today I can not escape, but hardly the rare moments where I can find another.
I think from age 15 onwards if there is anything I did was listen to music. Since I woke up I was going to sleep, even while sleeping, there was music. At 22 he started to not have that need music. I have fear that it is a symptom of change so much rejection, but I think it is otherwise. The music was always linked to a contextualization of the music of one point in my life. The 22 looks like a silent movie. Not that there are situations, but found that these situations have their own music. However, the practice of "listening" has become a practice similar to that to me means "read a book." There are people who read all day. That when they finish a book, start reading another. Those people I never understood. I need to be in a state of mind to read a book. And I could not finish one and start another one because I need time to digest. Personally I need to find a time to read. I can not conceive the idea of \u200b\u200breading all the time because they feel that reading would be a simple action. An action in which one is always one and pass such books the world go out the window of the bus. With music, I feel the same. I need to find the time in which I want to listen. Otherwise, all you would be doing is spending power.
Maybe my problem is I do not want to accept that "I have to." But ... I have what?. The only "I have to" of what is sure to receive, but not because I have but I want. And as with music, I need to find my time to study, to go to college. I can not force myself to do, not enjoy it. It becomes a torment. I feel everything "I have to" is torture. I wonder, is it so difficult to find work that allows us to continue being who we are. Why we need to spend more if we had none before? (Or had but we did the jerks). The capitalist world forces us to sell our labor power to survive, ok, but in exchange for what? Do we really need all that the world has to give? (Or rather, that the capitalist economy has to give ... that needs constant demonstration of creating ...). Can we survive what we are claiming? I think so. Hence arise various personal projects that I share with others. Thank God, guys, we have them!. But we must be aware that our projects are performing only reason for us to survive and remain. Juan Yesterday I said something like "Adapt the system." That's what we have to avoid. Adaptation is a double-edged trap involves a transformation, a transformation that background is just an ideological transformation. You have to understand the rules and must use those rules against the system. Have a radio show, laburos, let's put forward. Edit your journal. Let a producer of content. Whatever. Everything takes work, obviously, but also involve jobs that allow us the opportunity to remain ourselves. That's the idea, dude. Bah, the idea is the Revolution. But the Revolution have all the time in the world. You have to survive but not stop living.
life at age 22 is just a place to vindicate. And not just life at age 22, but rather a lifetime. Claimed. Be yourself. Because that's the sad thing about all this. Can not be yourself. You can not. Life is divided into months and climbed employees every month as if they were steps. Steps where, I wonder ... if we laburando until we retire and there are already too old to enjoy life. Life in capitalism is the negation of the material reproduction of life. Live but you're not. I'm not going to stop living. I'm not going to stop living. I'm not going to stop living. I'm not going to stop living.
All this thinking of the 22 I keep thinking of the 23 (because apparently, I needed to be 23 to write what I felt at 22 and vindication) and I keep thinking as you think.
I'm not going to stop living.
