While in the previous entry I touched on the subject of my longing for a place that I can call home, there is another related major pursuit that I want to achieve in this journey of mine towards a new life: finding my own lasting happiness and fulfillment.
Just as I found it hard to establish connections with the land and its people because we had to move around and switch schools often (including my own birthplace), I have also found it hard to find my proper role in all of this — one that gives proper meaning to this live that God gave me and all of its blessings, which I don’t think I deserve.
I’ve said it a few times, I’ve always lived on the fringes, always isolated and withdrawn in my own little world as I, ever since I was a kid, didn’t quite feel like I fit with the rest. I’ve also never been one to care much for myself beyond the basics, and my present weathered looks and health is a testament to that flaw of mine. Perhaps these two things are hard-coded in my nature, I don’t know.
I’ve never had much in life and never been one to want for much either. My aspirations are pretty basic too, I want to live a peaceful life, ensure that my brother is well, and that I can help others just as I was helped these past years, that is the core essence of what I want to seek for myself in this journey of mine in addition to a place to call home.
I don’t desire nor crave fame, power, or influence (political or otherwise), and while sure, money could fix some of my current woes, not everything is about it.
I’ve always lacked proper happiness, actual fulfillment, normalcy even. That is the one thing that I’ve been unable to properly grasp beyond fleeting moments. The lack of it has heavily weighed upon me lately, and it has affected me more than I’d like to admit, especially at night when I’m alone with my intrusive thoughts.
Throughout the course of my life — and especially in recent years — I’ve found glimmers of fulfillment in making others smile, be it proving help through my limited skillset or by making them laugh through jokes and memes. I enjoy it, it’s something that, now that I think about it, I’ve always done even as a kid, I just never realized it until now. But even so, that brief happiness that I’ve obtained through has its diminishing returns.
I don’t consider myself to be a highly skilled man, I can do a lot of things but don’t really excel at anything, and my 20s were essentially burned because of my own failures. I am not a very well educated man, as I did not pursue the level of education that was expected of me — a failure that’s entirely on me. I failed my mom spectacularly at that, and it was the one thing she ever demanded from me…
As such, I struggled and still struggle to find a role in this world. At the end of the day, all I am is a barely educated and barely functional man held together by a dream and a promise — things that don’t have much of a value, if my 5 years of failing to get a work visa are evidence of anything. That promise is the only reason I’m still alive, because, I had otherwise given up long ago, my brother is the only reason I keep going despite all my failures and shortcomings.
This upcoming October 10 will mark the 10th anniversary of me returning to Venezuela after a brief 4-year stint abroad that coincidentally began on October 10, 2009. I have not been able to catch a break since 2009 — ironically, my own failures are what led to me going abroad in the first place.
To say that I’m burnout is the understatement of the decade, because between the collapse of the country, my mother’s ill-fated fight against cancer (and my failure to save her), the continued Venezuelan bullshit, and 5 years of failed plans centered on finding a proper legal way to move with my brother have left so little time for me to figure out and live my life.
There is so much I haven’t done yet in my life, and that keeps devouring me, many of which are just normal things for the majority. It’s a bit sad that some the most exciting things I’ve experience over the past decade have been getting on a kerfuffle over toilet paper in 2013, bread lines, getting tear gassed while taking my mom to chemo, and almost getting arrested after my bank accused me of money laundering for having received a 3.1 million bolivar deposit ($75) in 2017, to name a few.
The ennui is real…
I have been unable to enjoy what few things I enjoy doing since late 2021 when I fell into a deep depression after an entire year’s work on a plan fell through over the span of 72 hours. Outside of taking care of my brother, I was merely autopiloting through life for a while after that, and I still struggle to be able to chill out and relax, to concentrate and watch a movie or play a video game. This has also really affected my creativity, and my ability to focus on my passion project.
Now that the 2022 Italian passport saga is over and I’m wrapping up things here to move to Italy I’m just starting to be able to enjoy things again, little by little, but I’m still finding it hard to focus on my own entertainment and personal pursuits, perhaps due to a combination of stress and unaddressed personal matters.
In essence, what I want is to, for once, be able to learn how to live for myself, to enjoy and see new things, to seek out lasting happiness, and to achieve the dreams I’ve dreamt for so long.
Yes sure, being able to have water 24/7 because I am tired of nearly a decade of water ration nonsense is something I want too. That said, I also want to help leave things in a better state than what I found them, through my own, limited means.
At the end of my life, whenever that may be, if someone asks me if my journey has been good and worthy, I want to be able to answer “Yes.”
Until the next one,