I happened to arrive to Querétaro just yesterday night. Traveling on the road was obviously boring but thankfully it did not become stressing whatsoever. I feared a kind of angst or anxiety crisis, and it didn’t happen either, thank God. Having to deal with the situation of spending hours within the same cubicle with my mother and her friend turned out to be annoying at times, but I “survived” listening to music, thinking, reading a little from a couple of mags every now and then, staring at those spectacular views when they happened to appear and so on.
I remember I continuously thought it would be a beautiful experience to have driven along those roads by myself on my (imaginary, for now) BMW 328i. ---I just noticed a better version called the 355i. The one I mentioned before is apparently called the F30 too, something like that. Yeah, a 355i would be better.--- You know, feeling the handling with my hypothetically-awesome driving skills, listening to my music without having to worry about anyone else (volume, type, etc.), relaxed in the air conditioning, contemplating the landscapes whenever I got the chance, feeling free and independent! I missed the opportunity of getting my driver’s permission back on Mérida, therefore there was no driving experience for me with my mother’s Jeep.
The first hotel we slept in was disappointing, thinking about the interlude of hotels we pay for every chance we get, and because of my mother’s tastes and possibilities without my father. It was mediocre for me. It’s not something to remember about, but the second one. It was called “Castelo”, placed in Boca del Río, Veracruz.
I don’t really know why, but the city had this strange, dreamish feeling for me. I remember noticing a building that looked like the White House but with a golden angel statue on top of the dome, and it seemed beautiful. The skies were gray. There were details in the environment that made the whole place look as if it was a mental creation, as in not a common place. I remember spotting some persons being pulled by parachutes to surf, and I imagined for a moment how it would be like to fly through the buildings with one, without harms or danger. Along the road I encountered possible messages, too. I love receiving messages, but the uncertainty of it being, maybe, just a mind product is something worth fighting. There was this point where my mother had to drive on roads of mountains, with plenty of curves and a fog that blinded what was after 10 meters or so. It seemed as if we were traveling through some environmental glitch, as if the world didn’t load enough.
Now, getting back to the second hotel topic: There was some kind of fancy event so almost everyone was wearing that kind of garments. I felt out of place, I feel like that almost wherever I go on the world outside. I told my mother to at least visit the hotel to know how much it cost, and how it looked like inside. It was a good idea to stay there, regardless of the places I could have visited if I wasn’t feeling like that. When I arrived at the room ---I wish I had a personal one--- Paty turned on the TV to the Telehit channel, and I felt welcomed with some cool musical videos. I automatically regretted that we didn’t stay at the highest floor. Room 303.
At night I attempted to go outside and walk around to see if I found an good place to write, like a café. I arrived at this place where tea beverages were served, and the decoration… something astonishing, it was a graffiti mural made by someone called “Seiker Etena” or something. Pretty cool art, I wish I had a camera handy at that moment; well, it happened to be one of those moments when memories are the only witness of what happens to oneself, as if it was something that shouldn’t have happened to you. I’m negative. I need to change my ways before I grow up completely, or else I’ll live miserably. Anyways, I visited for some seconds a sushi place called “DOMU”. With my mediocre clothing and my lazy appearance, a tall man opened the door for me (he felt like he fucking owned the place). When remembering I see myself stupid. I asked if they had WiFi, but first, when they closed doors. He sent me with the receptionist I had in front of my nose in such a cold, yet mannered way. If they actually cared for any client this would not have happened, but I had to wait until that high-class slutty woman finished talking whatever she decided to, with the receptionist. I asked again if they had WiFi. Oh, did I mention both of them made me question twice, as if the surprise of my query was that much of a shock. She told me they did, and that they closed somewhere after midnight depending on the clientele. I ended up feeling small and valueless, of course, because I’m not a rich businessman or some sort. All of this happened after I realized I didn’t bring my wallet and the camera.
Now I’ve arrived at this seemingly underdeveloped city (everything seems distant, one needs to travel a lot by car, lots of highway) I don’t know what to expect of my life’s outcome. I’ve been deceived or disappointed enough times to stop trusting the faith I put on destiny, only God has the power to change my life and many times I think he doesn’t care about what I desire and long for, what I dream of. I know that can’t be true, theoretically. My mother and I have had to stay at my uncle’s house, it’s big. The ambient has been cold, and the weather is, too, around here. They gave me a room for myself, which is nice, although it seems to have been planned for the housekeeper. I feel like Harry in his little place under the stairs, and with his apathetic family. My mother has been acting pretty cheerful with this new life episode, and the fact I differ so much in attitude with her makes me look bad. Being yourself is hard, and more when you don’t like the person you were fabricated into. Getting along with Benjamín, my cousin here, is practically impossible after what happened in Facebook about his boyfriend and his girl cousin, both asshole and bitch respectively to me, and I have my own valid reasons to think about them in such a way. “Ben” forgets our bloodly bond and prefers to believe in their biased stories about me. Then there’s Berenice, my other cousin (female). She is very pretty, but that characteristic may blind you from her insides. I asked her to take me to a nearly-known Starbucks. She and her boyfriend dared to ask me why, annoying. Fernando laughed at the dent my uncle did on the back the Jeep, really? Or was it my oversensitive mind? I think the first days around here will keep me feeling so awkward, out-of-place, pathetic. I don’t want it to be like the times of my first days in Yucatán, but the situation is similar with the fact of starting over again with the friends, school, establishing situation and such. I feel really startled at what my life turned out to be right now.
I have this great feeling of becoming independent, free, of taking the wheel in my life and go where I desire to go and become what I yearn to become. That means something like separating from the people in my family I recognize as inconsequential and those who stop me from becoming my Higher Self, those who don’t help, those who don’t care. Leaving my mother should be really hard, and as much as I happen to dislike her, she always will keep a special place in my heart.
Not enough time to write and check what I just created, despite my need to make really good works. Next time will do.
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