Sometimes it’s not so hard to imagine what my life would be like if I still lived in El Salvador, if the war had never happened, if my father wasn’t the man he was.
A while ago, someone told me that I wasn’t a true revolutionary.
Does a revolutionary brand themselves as such? I wonder what this person were to say to me if they knew where I came from, what I have seen, or new the family I have lost and the father I never got to know.
I wonder if they would continue to call themselves revolutionaries if they were faced with real war, with real death, with real struggle… not just the fantasy they pretend to live in, or the romatization of the idols they continue to admire.
True revolutionaries? Lie under a cement sink turned upside to protect you from bombs, or grab a riffle to protect your family and then talk to me about true revolution.