Yesterday I spoke of fear, yes, of a latent fear. In Venezuela the hours are dark. The minutes in my country are from eternity. Here the murderer revolves around you in circles.
Death as the idea of a country. Humiliation is daily, every second and becomes part of the normal.
Councilman Fernando Alban was killed, as they killed the innocent old man from Ruezga, who left at dawn for work. He left tired and died frozen by evil. Yes, because later the gentleman being in advanced age had to return to work, and it was there where the executioner finished sinking.
The Special Actions Forces (FAES) of the Bolivarian National Police (PNB), the CICPC Criminal Investigation and Criminal Investigation Corps, kill, as an idea order … the madurismo kills by ideology, that is to say; his systematic ideas of politics are born of death as an instrument. Novel death with Communist Socialism, that’s it, get into their country ideas.
Now, I am in this, my darkness, thinking, fearing, and reflecting. Fleeing to my place of work. Because to flee to work is to anxiously aspire to change, to run towards the unshakeable solution of the guiding principle.
I believe that my death and the death of Venezuelans must be natural. Not an ideology
Written by Jhon A. Romero.-