Diary of An Anarch in No Man’s Land



You can never be a prophet in your own land, they say. And if you don’t have a land, you will be dispossessed of any and all the prophecies that you utter because you have no right to contemplate and feel what is not yours as if it were even for an instant.

Nobody does anything, so don’t you dare do anything, eternal outsider. Don’t open your mouth, don’t breathe too deeply. Don’t question what you are told. Bear in mind that even the poorest among the poor is of the land, the most ignorant is our fool. You do not belong to anyone, anywhere. No one awaits you. No one really understands you. To those who despair of ever being understood, I hear you. Stay on your path even if it’s lonely sometimes.

The price of your liberty is the despondence of those who don’t dare to look out of their cages to see the sun or the rain.

I feel I can add something to the debate over migration, culture and identity, as I was born in Cuba, my parents are Spanish and I was raised in New Jersey between the ages of 6 and 13. I am neither Spanish (though legally I am) nor American. I am not Cuban. I was ‘The American’ throughout high school. It was not exactly a compliment.

I tried to fit in, sometimes desperately even. I have learned that you can only give up so much in favour of the predominant culture and you shouldn’t  need to do more. However, if you  intend to live in a country which is not your country of birth, you must be willing to adapt and learn to appreciate and respect the idiosyncrasy of the your adoptive country.  Immigration has always existed. It can be a means of enriching humanity through sharing our differences and learning from them. Living  abroad can, and often does, increase your tolerance and improve your worldview.

Nevertheless, this cannot be done by promoting mass immigration, which has proven to be a dubious way of increasing the population of a country. It is conductive to the creation of ghettos and benefits no one. The migrants do not receive the necessary help to integrate and it becomes more difficult as time goes by.  They cannot assimilate easily if they have a very different mindset, while the natives see themselves relegated to mere observers of the changes the new arrivals cause.

I cannot truly say I feel Spanish or anything else. However, I do believe that nowadays those who label themselves as ‘liberals’ think that the only way to fight discrimination is to erase differences, blend them until they ultimately disappear. We are all humans but we are not all the same and we shouldn’t have to be.

If you want to subjugate a people, shame the elders and uproot the young, and you will effectively have left them at the mercy of whatever cultural wind blows hardest. A culture with dry roots and no new leaves will wither and die, as the living being that it is.

I wish all cultures equally free  to take pride in their identity while respecting others. I wish all cultures united in the common defense of their values against the Beast that rips apart countries and lives for their own benefit. I wish cultures to defend their right to be, to exist. Protecting or promoting diversity is not, in my opinion, done by blending in all the different options, choices and  making a uniform culture, unchanging from China to Canada, from Somalia to Switzerland. This is like when you’re a kid and because you love chocolate and avocadoes and blue cheese, you decide to mix them up thinking if they’re so good on their own, they’ll be better together. What you get is a bowlful of an unidentifiable mass.

Ultimately, if you deny different cultures their identity, if you force them to succumb to the conventionalities of a uber-culture, what you are doing is putting cultural diversity at risk. You are playing God with structures that have been in place for centuries and that have evolved at their own pace and will continue to do so. Cultures tend to mix spontaneously if allowed to do so. When you tamper with the natural progression of things, it is bound to go wrong at some point.

I believe there is a way, an easy one, to achieve the understanding that we don’t have to hate anyone, much less ourselves, in order to thrive and not only survive.

If everyone acknowledged that we are equally created in dignity.

If everyone acknowledged that we should be treated according to our humanity, not according to what we look like, what gender we are, what language we speak, where we live, or how much money we have.

If everyone acknowledged that we should be treated according to the same rules: the rules of Justice.

If everyone believed that everyone else was as worthy as them.

If everyone thought that others were capable of great things, of goodness, of sacrifice.

If everyone realized that it can be as simple as ‘Live and let Live’.

If we all see that  cultures are equally valuable and accepting someone’s culture doesn’t mean forgetting our own.

If we finally pointed our collective finger at the real culprits of all the wars, all the hate, all the misunderstandings.

We all know who they are. They are among us.

They are the ones who direct the masses towards their vested interests. The ones who promote individualism and fear of the ‘other’.

They are the ones who only think about increasing their obscene bank accounts, whoever may fall, whoever needs to be crushed.

They invade countries, ransack resources, enslave people with inhuman salaries.

This is something that the politicians in charge of the European Union know little of and care even less for.

It can be done. The question I ask myself is why haven’t we already done it. What holds us back from realizing that this is a revolution that either happens or will forever haunt us.

People have constantly tried to label me and I am tremendously allergic to labels! Labels force you to accept things that you might not agree with. I cannot count the number of times that I accepted a request to join a group at high school, university or at a job and it was an informal group (or so I was led to believe) and then have people assume that you support everything they say 100%.

That’s why I mostly identify as a national-anarchist. I am wary of labels, though. As ‘The Prisoner’ Said: ‘ I am A free man! I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered!’

My conclusion is clear. In order to protect cultural diversity, you must allow every culture its space, its voice, its identity, not making their differences crimes or even worse, rendering them meaningless. To do otherwise is to do away with the very roots of civilisation.

-Prologue (extract) from The Diary Of An Anarch Outsider In No Man’s Land

<a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/meaningless/">Meaningless</a>

Poverty Causes Crime? Meet White Appalachia

There always were other slaves…

Cincinnati Is A Dump

White Privilege …yea right. More on this later.

Newsflash: The Top 10 Poorest Counties in America are in Appalachia and populated By Whites.

Folks, this is REAL Poverty seen below, as in no subsidized vouchers to pay for modern forced Central Air (HVAC) with which to set at 85F in the dead of winter paid for by tax payers, but (Whites) Living with NO power or running water, and using stoves that burn wood or coal for heat. No government supplied vouchers are sent to Appalachian families to burn said wood either.
Don’t cut wood= No heat.
Not many Section 8 vouchers either for that matter, in this neck of the woods. Majority White West Virginia is much safer than majority black Mississippi, despite being one of the poorest states in America.   West Virginia is the 2nd poorest state (behind only Mississippi), the 4th whitest state at 93.9% white, and…

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Area Recreativa de Folgueirou,Illano

Green silence. Magic. Come to #TheOtherSpain


Este área recreativa, situada en el alto de su mismo nombre, se encuentra un par de kilómetros antes de llegar a la capital del concejo por la AS-12. Dispone de bar, zona de ocio infantil, bolera, campo de fútbol, campo de tiro al plato y merendero. En ella se encuentra el Centro de Interpretación de la Naturaleza, la piscina municipal y la Oficina de Información y Turismo.

1133511_el-palacio_0942281001426783548_o1276449005371descargaElFolgueirou_1foto_417images (1)images

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Be Proud to Become a Woman!

I wear red because it enlivens me and to share life.

For all those who are no longer here. For all those who cannot raise their voice. For each and every one of my Warriors. For all those who don’t see. For all those who can’t help but see.

Today we celebrate Working Women’s Day. We celebrate the struggle to earn the right to work and get paid . We celebrate and acknowledge the silent, unpaid labor that happens in the home and without which society would collapse. We don’t celebrate the female gender as such for no reason. In fact I wish this day didn’t exist, that there was no need for it because Justice had, at long last, been achieved.

Let’s be honest, today that Justice which makes men and women equally responsible and respectable doesn’t exist. Laws are one thing. Social mores are quite another. We are all responsible for changing this. So be it.

To the Women I know: I salute you on this surprisingly controversial day. I salute you with the deepest respect. Sisters, I understand you. I’m there. I hear you.

To the Women who believe that everything is already done and Justice-not equality- is achieved , I truly feel you haven’t thought about it seriously. I understand you. The majority-and myself- have been there at one time or another. Thinking hurts. It’s very healthy but it hurts. I don’t blame you for wanting to remain that way. It makes you nervous.

To the Good Men, who are most you: Thank you for being there and being you. Please understand that that there are things that exist even though you can’t grasp them. Help us towards our common goal of Justice.
Be proud, Women, because it is thanks to you that the world moves on. Don’t let anything steal your smile!
Remember the quote by Simone de Beauvoir: You are not born a Woman, You become one.



<a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/nervous/">Nervous</a>






The Walls of Time. Navia #TheOtherSpain

Built in the thirteenth century, the medieval wall in the centre of my town expresses much more than the building capacity of the people that lived here centuries ago. It is a metaphor of the union which was necessary to survive as a group and individually. No stone was unnecessary. All together, they protected each other. They were stronger together. Proof of this is the fact that it has survived to our days.

Origen: The Walls of Time. Navia #TheOtherSpain

I Hope You Never Know


Elderly Care Sign in Word Collage

To all those who dare criticise the carers of elderly people:

I hope you never find yourself confined to your house for days because your parent is ill and you have no one to delegate on.

I hope you don’t have to watch opportunities go by because you know you can’t afford to take them as they would mean not being able to care for that person.

I hope you never miss your children’s graduations, concerts, or plays.

I hope you never miss going for a coffee with a friend.

I hope you never know what it is for your kids to say they feel left out because you spend so much time caring for their gran that you have little time and energy left for them.

I hope you never wake at three am and cry because you know you won’t be able to sleep again easily  and you have to get up to feed and clothe and clean your mom and deal with her nasty morning mood, accusing you of dragging her and belting out at you for helping her wash her face.

I hope nobody ever tells you that you’re living off your mom (when it’s her that would be literally lost without you) when she has a minuscule pension and you need it to get by financially.

I hope you never know the guilt of leaving your teenage son with your mom to go for a walk alone at a pace faster than a quarter mile an hour because you just can’t bear to stay indoors and hear the same story for the twentieth time.

I hope you never know what it is to hear your mother refer to you as her sister… or niece…or cousin and contradict you if you say anything different.

I hope you never know the vivid pain of having to keep your memories alive for both of you.
I could go on and on… Those of you who are carers know what I mean.   Those of you who are not, I hope you never know it. I wouldn’t want it for anyone. You have NO idea what it is to have your life conditioned by the needs of another person and know that you will never be free until they die. Few situations cause such conflicting feelings.

Not many people know what it is to grieve a person who is alive and eats, speaks, maybe walks and talks, but who resembles the person you knew as your parent/ husband/ wife/ sibling a little bit less each day.

When, as is my case, you are taking care of your mother, it is odd to be technically the daughter but really the mother of your own mother, especially when she doesn’t know exactly who you are, just that you’re a familiar face.

The carers are all too familiar with the stress of facing unforeseen situations, dealing with someone who doesn’t remember what they did just did five seconds ago but can fake a conventional conversation so well for a few minutes that people who don’t know them will say ‘Wow! She’s got a lovely conversation! Clear head! You’re lucky! She’s so funny!’.

When you smile and say that it isn’t really the case, that if you ask her what she did today she’ll say she went to herd cows or that she’s just come back from the USA, they look at you as if you’re crazy and a liar. You can see their thoughts behind the forced smile. They think you’re lying, or at best, exaggerating.

I am only asking for respect. Nothing else. It’s all we need.

Don’t judge if you don’t want to be judged.

<a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/vivid/">Vivid</a>