Excuse me for what I fear will be an all-out rant. Also, I hope you enjoy. This weekend was pretty much shot to hell; I spent most of it with a splitting headache and, on Sunday, I miraculously got out of bed because El Bear wanted to hang out (he’s a father) and with it being Father’s Day and the deal, I decided to get out of the house for a bit. My mind was going a mile a minute though, catching things and interpreting them in a way I usually don’t; this has been the case for a few days now and I don’t know whether to attribute it to my sickness, my state of mind or both. Maybe it’s the headache: I’m the type who, as loud and obnoxious and seemingly improvisational as I might look like, enjoys having some sort of order or control over whatever’s happening… whatever’s on my plate, if you will. The concept “of working” is one I have to mask in order to live with myself while doing it and that’s why I can’t do a job I know I won’t enjoy because psychologically I’ll block myself out and do chores miserably. I’m the type who likes the term “collaborator” rahter than “employee.” I don’t know why that is; issues with authority? Overbearing ego? Who knows and who cares; point is that I’ve been thinking way more than I usually would about things that ultimately are of no consequence. My mentality is fatalist whenever I deal with personal issues, and I believe it’s because it’s my mind’s way of softening the blow. It’s bearable once you’ve thought of the possiblity that the worst thing that could happen will happen, a notion that contradicts my tank-like, obnoxious behavior. Also, another way I deal with my own personal issues with people and things is to undermine them, take them lightly. This is what many Panamanians do, I’m sad to say… this being an overly Latin American country with so many men and women from different places on this side of the globe live and work, the “macho man” culture is something practically embedded in our genes.

I’ve had it in my personal experience that people (or namely women thought men are also at fault yet not at the same gravity as women do it), in Panama at least love to run away from their problems. This is very true under many different scenarios where this could happen and nobody escapes it (including myself) no matter what they say before things actually start happening. I’ve seen many thing I’ve and and yearned for go to hell precisely because of this and I’ve been trying to understand the behavior for years so that it doesn’t surprise me as much as it did when I first experienced it but to this day I’m still at a loss for words. It’s amazing how people don’t give themselves chances. Latin Americans, and certainly Panamanians are a very self-contradicting culture now that I think about it. For a society that loves drama and getting into hairy situations, a lot of them sure as hell like to take the simple way out and run away from their problems. I’ve been lucky: I can say that to this day I’ve never gotten myself involved on any level with a person, place or thing that’s not of strong character… or at least that’s what I get off upon first meeting them. But that factor doesn’t escape the fact they’re still people and they still get scared when faced with certain types of situations. Thing is, I’m with these people because whenever that certain type of situation comes around he or she will not turn their back on it and run for the hills… putting it that way, it’s entirely out of character. And I’ve thought about this many a time, on most occasions trying to understand the reasons why they would do such things in order to stop feeling so upset and let down about it but it seems I’m missing something, I’m either overlooking it or not addressing it with the proper light or something my feeble mind can’t fathom and when you put someone with a thirst for knowledge and discovery it’s a very dangerous thing to do. I also have the Juggernaut-grade ability to want to see things to completion. I don’t like things ending halfway, and for the same reasons I hate being hung out to dry without a proper explanation. These “proper explanations” though, it seems that they’re only fables that occur in movies and works of fiction because it’s been a very rare ocurrence that when somebody breaks my heart or lets me down in such a devastating way that I’m left helpless, at least I’m given a reason as to why it happened. Most of the time I get a “sorry,” if I get any words at all. And I’ve thought about it, I’ve given it so much thought throughout my years of adventuring and I’ve worked it through all of the angles I can muster but nothing will be as satisfactory as an honest explanation from whoever did what they did. I don’t know if this is a global thing but I’m inclined to think it is… I don’t smell a Panamanian patent over this, and interpersonal relationships are, by default, universal. I don’t think I’ll be able to escape the phenomena if I moved out of the country… but I sure as hell think I’d run into it a lot less.

Traditional as far as culture is concerned, there are so many established rules that people here don’t want to break off from, and it’s just like what the cool Greek guy said last week: people here don’t want to change, and that’s why the country is where it is now. Panama needs to broaden its horizons and open its mind of practically every aspect of what makes it a country: social, cultural, ecomonical, political… but we’ve got a lot going against that. Freedom of thought and feeling is something that’s almost frowned upon here; social castes are a dime a dozen here, but the dominating caste is just so because of traditionalism, and of course that the diminutive size of the country helps these people a great deal. It’s like the Greek said as well… these “clicks.” I have this girlfriend who, even though I haven’t directly talked to about this, I do notice she knows a lot of the power players in this country and goes out with them and what not… like a groupie. These power players, ironically, are the one who, I believe, have the least shred of authenticity and originality of all of the castes. They’re the trendy, well-off type that goes to the hottest clubs because they’re the hottest clubs, wear the trendiest clothes because they’re the trendiest clothes, watch the hottest movies because they’ve been told they’re the hottest movies, go to art shows depending on the trendiness of the artist (or, as is in many a case when it comes to artists in this country, how many wealthy and “famous” people you know that would come out to support you whether they like your art or not), like Brazil for the World Cup because Brazil is regarded as the best team on Earth even though they’re coming off as the most overhyped team in the entire tournament, and so on and so forth. It’s almost as if there’s a bulletin that hits their inboxes every month, telling them what to wear, drink, see, support, and think. Naturally, when I tell her about what I like and am excited about she looks at me like I’m a leper. I also know people whose main purpose in life is to contradict everything you say. They’re the entire opposite of the people I mentioned a few lines above but at the same time they’re no different than the very people they despise. They see everything that’s commercial and successful and actively boycott it as if trying to make a statement with it, independently from whether or not it’s actually good or worth checking out. These people are funny, though… and much more bearable than the people they’re fighting against. Of course, these clicks are pending some callibration that goes from person to person but in most of these people the same values are set in place as a foundation of their beliefs: they’re the same people who wouldn’t set foot in a push button because they think it’s dirty, think goth kids are all fucked up, people with tattooes and piercings are all crazy and fuck ups, call centers are places where you can actually make a career and other ill-conceived notions that simply make me want to hurl.

I have some of those foundations, but I know I don’t carry all of them. I curse like a sailor, am a pierced, tattooed, long-haired writer that doesn’t mind neither push buttons, ex girlfriends, facing problems steadfast, alcohol, drugs or rock n’ roll. My ego’s big, my mind’s a mutant, there’s not one topic I won’t touch or spin around and my tolerance for bullshit is reaching negative levels. I call people on their shit quick, and don’t mind getting into the shit when it’s waranted for. Straight shooter, no crap, no beating around the bush and no red tape. In other words… I’m fucked. People like me are dangerous to this society if given the chance to be active and impulse some change… but even if this is a small country, it’s still too much for one person to do it alone. I think I just came back from my trance and lost the point to all of this. I usually feel like this (introspective) when I start wanting to look for people I care enough so much I’ve managed to push away because we hurt the ones we love. Problem is that when I need my ego the most, like when I want to email/call some people to see them, it’s not there to back me up. My personal feelings on the subject is that I believe I’m a nuisance to them. A problem they don’t want to deal with and, promptly so, have ran away from but for whatever reason I’ve become something they can’t turn down if it comes knocking on their door… until I go ahead and fuck it all up again with my own search for self-discovery. Sometimes I think that the whole “no regrets” thing is utter bullshit. Now, if you’ll excuse me… there’s an email I just gathered the courage to write.

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