XVI PEDICABO EAM

May God, blesse the one that gave me life, the one true man, the real one, the alpha of all alphas, my first love, the one true King to my heart. May God, always remind me to love him, cherish him, appreciate him and understand him, for what he is, for who he is, as sometimes I may forget. He might get mad, he might be disappointed, he might scream, he might cry, he might be mean and impolite, and so might I. We’re so much alike, maybe too much sometimes, we almost never understand each other, almost like we don’t speak the same language, but one thing we have in common is the love for the arts and family. I can’t remember not loving him, ever since I took my first breath, I loved him before I met him, he is only a king because he always makes me feel like his princess, I always feel safe when I with him, I know nothing bad is going to happen to me as long as I’m with him. Every day, I’m so proud of him, of who he is, of what he has become, he thinks his success is recent, not to me it isn’t. To me, he has always been great, beautiful, smart, genuine, magical may be. I’m beyond lucky, that I get to call this incredible human “Dad”, I have so much to thank him for, so much respect to give him. I want only the best for him, because that’s what he deserves he has given so much for me, for us, and the most incredible part is that he never talks about it, as if it didn’t matter to him, as we were worth it. There’s no other man like him, he’s the only one. I have so much respect for him, so much love for him, so much love and so much fear, fear that he doesn’t realize the length of my appreciation for him. I will always love him, not because I’m his daughter, but because he’s worthy, he deserves all the recognition and appreciation in the world. I thank God, the Universe, Mother Nature and Pachamama, not for making you my father but for making me your daughter, and for letting me grow while watching you become the strong, powerful and incredible men and father you are. Thank you, for loving me, for taking care of me, for letting me part of your pack, for the things you have taught me, thank you for everything.

Sometimes, I just get so frustrated. Thinking that I’m disappointing everyone, especially my dad. The worst part is that he has never told me that he was disappointed in me. It’s all in my head, in my sad, dark and stupid head that apparently loves to make me feel sorry about myself. I’m so tired, of everything but mostly I’m tired of myself, I want to change, do something for myself that would make me feel good for the longest time, I’m exhausted of feeling sad and sorry all the time. The feeling of sadness drains my body of all its energy, sucking on it like a freaking black hole in my system. I don’t know who invented this joy-sucking feeling nor why they invented but whomever you are, I just have one thing to say to you and that’s: fuck you very merry much and I do mean with that all my black heart.

Sometimes, I like to think of God as Dr. Victor Frankenstein and the Man as his creation “The Creature”. I wonder if God, like Victor, sees his creation as a repulsive being and is disgusted by it. If you look carefully at other animals, they carry themselves with such grace that makes them so attractive and endearing to the eyes, while humans, well we don’t really have any kind of grace, instead we have ego, jealousy and lust, something that animals do not possess, because of these characterizations the human is, not only killing other species, but has also taken into killing its own species. It makes me wonder, did God knew this was going to happen? Did He planned for all of this to happen? Or is this just another fail like Mary Shelley’s story?

God created life, the Man. Then the Man created different ways to take it. Drugs, knives, guns, pills, alcohol… these are all man-made objects. Two of these objects were actually conceived for the sole purpose of hurting. God created life…then the Man created ways to end it.

I always cry when I remember how great she is, I just can’t believe that person is my sister, she can’t be real, she’s too good to be true.

‎‎Lately, I’ve been thinking about a mother’s love for her child. How they are ready to die for them. Lie for them. Exist for them. Even suffer for them. I admit I have never really understood that, how can one be so in love with someone that they are ready to risk their lives for them, their happiness, everything. It’s kind of fascinating if you ask me. Also, kind of exaggerate, maybe it’s my young, still self-involved, childless self-that’s talking but I just can’t see myself risking my entire life for someone else’s. Maybe it’s just my fear of death talking. Ever since, I was a kid death has always been a “scary” subject for me, to the point that even my mom recalls asking our paediatrician what was wrong with me and why was I always telling her that I didn’t want her to die. Maybe I should do like everybody else and blame my Mom for making me so dependent of her that I couldn’t see myself living without her, or maybe I should just blame my Dad for my fear of abandonment after leaving us to go live in another continent so we could have a great life, with no worries. Maybe I should just be like everybody else and blame my parents for all the fucked-up shit that comes into my head. But I’m not like everybody else, I wasn’t raised to be like everybody else, I was raised to be me. Whatever the fuck that means…