Yesterday, while Watching videos recorded earlier in the day of Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG) arsonists setting fire to vehicles and gas stations, my loathing of the crimes committed by narco-terrorists spiked. In one video, armed men first dragged people from their cars, emptied containers of gasoline and then set fire to into the vehicles. Another video showed men attacking a gas station at a Costco by dousing the station and then setting the it ablaze; gasoline erupted in uncontrollable flames when ignited by the attackers. Several videos and still images of buses on fire caused my stomach to churn and the muscles in my neck to tighten. I cannot erase from my mind the images of black smoke billowing from burning buses and cars and businesses. The incident that sparked the widespread arson was the killing of the head of the CJNG at the hands of Mexican police and military. Residents and visitors in twenty Mexican states were subjected to the terrors wrought by monsters whose “jobs” are to profit from the distribution of dangerous and deadly narcotics. Many of the comments left online by viewers of the disturbing videos were thoughtless and indescribably cruel. My loathing for those commenters mirrors my contempt for and revulsion toward the arsonists. The depth of the barbarism of the participants in such hideous behavior is almost impossible to comprehend. Violence of this type and magnitude is extremely rare in places like Guadalajara and Chapala and Puerto Vallarta. “Was” rare… Can anywhere on Earth be a refuge from such indefensible monstrosities? I have a growing sense that hope is the emotional expression of naiveté—a “safe place” built of toothpicks, paper, and glass.
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With every breath I take, I “hear” or “feel” something like the crinkle of aluminum foil in my right ear. It’s as if fluid in my inner ear is responding to pressure, like each inhalation causes a thin film in my head to move just a little. Only I can hear it or feel it. It is driving me up the walls. I have tried several recommended remedies, to no avail. I have yet to try antibiotics, nor do I want to attempt to resolve the problem with irreversible extremes, like a bullet to the temple. Pressure equalization, gravity, and ear drops (intended to relieve wax build-up), etc. have not had any appreciable effect. It’s a bit early to try ingesting vodka & tonic, but I may give distraction…like a gummy…a go. The intrusive annoyance does not bother me if I do not breathe, but that solution lasts either too short a time or forever, neither of which is satisfactory.
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Sunlight and sound, I imagine, are rarely encountered in the deepest parts of the ocean. Except from the crushing effects of water pressure—and the lack of oxygen—that might be the ideal refuge from the world’s disturbances. The perfect place for a retreat from chaos. The location best suited to blocking intrusions that could risk the erasure of peace and serenity. The next time I wish to attain a state of absolute peace and serenity (which, realistically, is “always,” I will attempt to envision myself at the bottom of the deepest abyss in the deepest ocean. If it works, I will try to describe the process, step-by-step.
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Perpetually tired…an eternal state of low-level fatigue. My interest in almost everything is at a low ebb. Tired of being tired. Weary of weariness. Exhausted by exhaustion. Blah.
