First of all, if you are hoping to read about some heavy drugged pork by an evil enterprise, you can stop reading now. Or maybe not.
Last night, the last of 2019 and so, the last of the 10’s decade, I was planning a family dinner and after that attend one of two alternative parties, one offered an experience around an “cultural trip” with a really psychedelic and color changing ad, and the other, by recommendation of a dear friend, more focussed on the music, with the words “science” and “anti system” between its slogans.The family dinner went as expected, smooth, full of old time memories, all playing with my, month and a half just born, niece, the first baby in the family after my youngest son was a baby eleven years ago.We tend to talk a lot about politics, philosophy and religion during family lunches, tea times and dinners, you know, to torture ourselves with stuff that never ends, but not this time, this time we just chat and eat.The dinner was pork with smashed sweet potatoes, rice and salad, all sounds innocent, the pork were pork ribs pre cooked kinda smoked and after tasting it, tasted good enough but was really heavy handed in the salty side and with some weird after taste, maybe some sort of preservative.I brought with me a natural wine that I personally enjoy a lot, with a nice sophisticated name “El Zahir”. Was produced by “De la Villa” a small artesanal house in Bolivia´s southern region of Cinti´s valley, in this precise case “Villa Abecia”, I said “was” because there is little chance to get this particular wine produced again.After eating and chatting a little bit longer with, oddly enough, a christmas playlist playing in the background, we were all sleepy and tired, so we decide to go.The plan was to go party with my sister, she is visiting on vacations but her couple arrives in a week, so with all my nearest friends faraway, seemed great to share some time with my little sis.But, after the dinner she does not felt so good, she was tired and not really in a mood to go party, the height in La Paz is tricky, can kick you back with the digestion side sometimes, so I didn’t insist. I started to chat with some friends to catch them at one of the parties, but suddenly I start to felt myself not so good, obviously I didn’t want to give up, you know, it was the end of a decade so I kept pushing for some minutes, but it was clear that I ain’t was going to make it, I felt really heavy and uncomfortable, so I grant and went to bed.I can now say that at that point I was actually starting a party, in my head, with some weird colors that iterate between striking neon reds, greens, blues full of energy and saturation, suddenly changing to more earthy tones, muted and raw, serious and reflexive, all inside an universe on which everything keeps flourishing, like turning its insides out perpetually, in a chaotic movement that I enjoyed but at the same time got me anxious.I was for a moment chatting with a stone, yes a stone, but as it was so eagerly changing colors and turning its insides out while talking me about culture that I couldn’t but listen. It talked about heritage, culture and life, and I thought of course, it was there. It continued for a while asking me to tell it how much I was enjoying life, I, that can move, touch and be touched, mostly, I, that can feel. I made a pause and thought astonished, how fool can I be when a rock static and inert can embrace its life as it is by accepting and living fully from there, even recognizing its handicaps, to the point of asking me about how much I enjoyed the tender touch of a lover or my children, how many times I shouted out in joy or anger and, if after crying I felt dry or wet. O dear, probably much much times I did, but not so much times I felt.I gave my answers while watch it change colors and flourish constantly, neons while it asks, earth tones while it listened, I felt I loved and admired it, a profound respect was pushing inside me.After chatting for a while it told me at the time of goodbye, that it was eager to see me again, but the next time I should be changing colors and flourishing constantly, because seeing me so muted and static, here inside that I’m free, makes it sad. At first I got touched by the requirement as I felt it naive and innocent, but abruptly realized that it was indeed a requirement with conditionality.See, even if you have all the time in the world to talk with every living soul that gets intoxicated by smoked pork ribs, you have the right to choose if that talk is going to do you good or not, even rocks know that, so you better know too.I just slide the back of my fingers through the surface of that beautiful rock and said thanks, I’ll do my best. The touch made it vibrate in neon, my words in raw.And I woke up, I felt uncomfortable, indisposed and numb, as I couldn’t sleep, I picked the last thing I was watching on NetFlix, which is a late chapter of the second season of “Psycho-Pass” an anime series, yes, I watch anime and whatever calls my attention minimally, I am a media consumption junkie. I really wasn’t able to watch anything so I started to flow between the series and the psychedelic universe of colors and mutating forms that refuses to live me alone, with one word that continuously reached my peculiar state of trance, “Asymptomatic”, that in the middle of my inner chaos I understood as “anti system”.In that colorful universe a talking hand vibrating and flourishing too, was questioning me, and the word / words “Asymptomatic” “anti system” were used indistinctly, maybe I was listening to them in the series and mixing it all up in my sick dream.The fact is that that hand was always neon, full of powerful colors, showing off vibrance and energy, no once I watched it to go raw, no once watched it relax, it was constantly doing signs and expressions, you know, its a hand, they are so emotional and expressive.The talk went a little bit rough as its emotional manners ignite emotional responses from me, it told me that, why ,having two hands and even more, having also two legs, I stand so muted and static, I couldn’t but felt a profound political demand on his words, a demand that was pointed directly at me in a context that seemed violent, definitely influenced by “Psycho-Pass”.A total mix up between the consequentialism that so many times rules my own behavior and the intrinsic demand on that posture on amorality, reflected on the word Asymptomatic in the series as a requisite to stand outside of the control of the System, you know, puts yourself in an anti system position, if not that you care, the system does.So while the debate with the hand continued I do tried to understand it, after all, I knew it was been true to itself, and demanding me to be true with myself even if we are not the same, even if its truth was not my truth, it was demanding me to flourish, to vibrate.After who knows how many raving tantrums, it told me, well I think you have to go, I don’t like you right now but the rock does, it is always so naive, as it have all the time in the world and that thick skin, I think it just don’t carish itself enough, but I love it and will protect it, even from you.I wasn’t sure how to react, but nonetheless I extend my own hand and gave it a firm handshake, it was being so martial and tacit that I couldn’t find a word to say after that, but it does. Look, I can only be neon and vibrant, I can’t stop making signs and point, that is my nature, those are my means to express myself, and you have to understand that even though you are the only one that can listen to us, you not always do so, and for that I’ll continue being tacit and powerful, so you will have to eventually hear us.I did have to end my talk with the hand and run to the bathroom in the real world.The End.PD. I do think that the pork have some bad stuff on it as consequence of being a pre processed and stocked, and no I don’t trust that brand haha. So much for the opioid pork.