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"Hi! Can I speak to management?"
"Yes, let me put you on hold." "Hello, this is The World's Management speaking." "Hi... Who the fuck is in charge?" "What do you mean?"
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A three followed by a zero, and it’s time to think. Time for introspection, or the attempt at least.
Thirty years is the longest I’ve been doing anything. Right or wrong, consistently doing it. As I give myself a slightly out of breath congratulatory slap on the back, I realize that the years have been many, but the living maybe hasn’t been enough... “You are perfect”
“Do not change a thing” “You are beautiful just the way you are” What do these have in common? They make for decent music lyrics. They are also lies.
 They came in all names and sizes. About 17 boys and 9 girls.
Collectively, we were called "El Frac". A neighborhood of 18 homes inhabited by the people I shared my growing up with. The mess we call our childhood won't go into history books, but part of it is written here. Let us start this tale with a simple fact: life, unfortunately, isn't fair. While some people grow up without a family at all, me and the El Frac group grew up in a home with a nuclear family, surrounded by 17 other homes that formed a second family. This is my attempt to shed some light into the great importance of social groups and families, particularly in the early stages of life, for a healthy development of a person both as an individual and as a member of the collective organisms we call societies. This is the story of my childhood... |
"While the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth"
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