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Entre Ríos y Pozones, Al Fin Del Mundo | Tierra del Fuego, Patagonia Chilena

admin by admin
August 7, 2017
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Driving through mountains, through small roads and distant farms, spoken directions and bad maps, the kind of adventures that are hard to find. Chasing salmon, looking for challenges; between rivers and lakes we find ourselves at the end of the world, going down and back on a concrete and gravel road.

Parking at the side of the road and stretching sore limbs, with not much to say we continue our path to no certain domain, fuelled by sorrow and constantly arguing about life and its most precarious needs.

What makes these days so special? I constantly ask myself, but the answers vary too much to assume there is a right one to choose, and I spend too much time on them to even think that I’ll find some logic. So, I resigned, and with that thought in mind I gave up on trying to find some sense in my life; when dabbling on frugal vices, spearheaded attractions, and soft passions have proven shallow and wasteful.

Here I stand, with not much to show for my many aches and plenty pains, but here I’ll continue my search. Although an answer I look for no more.

Oh, irony…Like a madman, I’ll bang my head against the wall hoping to find a breakthrough and a different result, to the same thing I’ve been doing since the moment my time here began.

Like a run-out course on a forgotten path, like a cold cup of coffee or a watered-down drink. Nothing tastes or feels hard enough to wake me up. But fear in its essence, the kind that disturbs even the darkest side of me and frightens all but the one that’ll keep me alive. The one that waits until I can finally own every step I take.

Remember that crow we all fear as little kids, the one who’s caw hurt our ears. Remember that dark hallway, the burning water, and the choking smoke. What happened to all those fears?Why aren’t we scare of that anymore?

Manejando por montañas, carreteras angostas y campos distantes, direcciones habladas y malos mapas, del tipo de aventura que cuesta encontrar. Persiguiendo salmones, buscando desafíos, entre ríos y pozones, al fin del mundo nos encontramos bajando y subiendo por un camino de tierra y concreto.

Estacionándose al lado de la carretera, estirando las extremidades adormecidas, sin mucho que decir continuamos nuestro rumbo hacia ningún lado alguno, motivados por dolores y pesares, mientras discutimos de las necesidades más precarias de esta vida.

¿Qué hace tan especiales a estos días? Constantemente me pregunto, pero las respuestas varían demasiado como para asumir que encontrare la correcta, y es demasiado el tiempo que gasto en ellas para siquiera soñar con hallarle alguna lógica. Así que me rendí, y con esa idea en mente dejé de buscarle el significado a la vida, cuando distraerme con vicios frugales, atracciones filosas y pasiones suaves demostró ser un pasatiempo vacío y una distracción innecesaria.

Aquí me pongo de pie, sin mucho para mostrar a pesar de mis muchos dolores y varios pesares, pero aquí continuare mi búsqueda, aunque las respuestas ya no me atraen.

Oh ironía…Como un demente, golpeare la misma muralla esperando encontrarle alguna quiebre y un resultado distinto a la misma cosa que he estado haciendo desde que mi tiempo acá empezó.

Como un curso desolado en algún camino olvidado, como una taza de café helada, o un trago aguado, nada sabe o se siente lo suficientemente fuerte como para despertarme. Solo el Miedo en su más pura esencia logra abrirme los ojos, del tipo que molesta hasta mi lado más oscuro, y atemoriza a todos excepto a aquel que espera hasta que sea dueño de cada uno de mis pasos.

Se acuerdan del cuervo al que todos temíamos cuando niños, ese cuyo graznido lastimaba nuestros oídos. Recuerdan ese pasillo oscuro, el agua que quemaba o el humo que asfixiaba. ¿Qué le paso a todos esos miedos?¿Porque ya no estamos asustados?

Check out Emilio’s website for more trips and writing.

READ ORIGINAL ARTICLE HERE

Tags: Chileend of the worldpatagoniasouth americaStorieswriting
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