Nabetse Selbonarg (Yury Esteban Escobar Grano


My life is shit.
While I raise the beaker with the poison that I will take within a few seconds, I remember how my life has been in recent years up to the end of the end.
Each of my days depends on bad or terrible genius with which my wife or my daughter are lifted.  And both have a parejito genius... angry all the time (not to say that berracas all the time).
I'm an employee who has dedicated his life to work from the age of five and now that you complete fifties came to the conclusion that I lost my time trying to be honest, good, selfless and wanting to always fight for foster to the most weak and for the truth, equality and justice.  
As a superhero... but without the publicity than Superman or Batman if they have. 
Because the reality is that this world already do not want to be saved.  
Many people pointed him and makes bar to the theory of the Maya that in 2012 is going to end the world.
Even some priests are saying that on December 21, 2012 will be a deadly darkness.  The funny thing is that the Archbishop of Cali says the opposite: that nobody knows when it is going to end the world, that God is not going to finish his work but to perfect it and be quiet. 
Personally, I think more to the Archbishop.
Because I have understood only through in-depth studies of history, philosophy and on the internet that there is a reality: the world you ends to which dies.
Because the universe is dynamic, this changing, evolving on a daily basis.  Do a little they believe that we are the only living beings in all the vastness of the universe where planet Earth is little more than a fly cagadita?.
No Sir, the end of world has come to many generations throughout history.
And if not remember to the powerful Inca Empire in Peru which was destroyed by the greed of Hernan Cortez.
Or when the volcano of Mount Vesuvius in Italy just with the cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum in 79 BC.
For every one of those people, it was the end of the world.  And don't nobody predicted them.
Unique tragedies announced this the from gunsmith: people knew that this was going to happen but they would not leave their homes. They earned over the four frets of the kitchen than his life.
The reality is that it is difficult to be official public in Colombia.  Because everyone wants to endorse the signboard of corrupt public officials.  And sadly most are.
But if you want to be honest and do good work, their colleagues are the first to "Putting problem" or "Fitted by it" as they say.  
To such an extent in some institutions that even so far as to threaten the life of the honored official and/or are responsible for putting all barriers imaginable (and even the unimaginable) to make him resign his post out of boredom.
Trying to that my wife was best genius I play let me bring home the father-in-law, elder pretty pigtail, unthankful, naughty and other that has seized my house, that is smelling a tantrum because is urine up on the ground, everywhere (furniture, sanitary, rooms, corridors, etc.).
No they endured it is more in the House of another daughter by the foregoing.  And she was not silly: if I play him to choose between her husband and the papi, chose the husband that is cleaner and more useful.
Here in my house playing take the babas of the "grandfather" because it uses the wells and places them unwashed; take us urines in sink because there throws that collects in the night in the room which was for guests (with cabin and double bed that now only left in power of the since the tantrum and bad smell that picked up this room already nobody is able to sleep there); Let it whip and pull all things because it keeps embittered; leave it that he empelote in the hallway that opens onto the street when you go into the shower so all the people who still visit our House to see it. 
Do not say bathroom because not bathing: is cast a little water (why is that not removed the odor). 
Up to endure us your "matraca" of pedorrera all day throughout the House.
And knowing that when he had money, business, estate coffee, behaved badly with the finada and sons (anymore you the old) and wasted talk in leveraged viejas which deslechaban it.
Now while writing these lines, he wanders challenging with its fingido walk slowly, dragging feet and resting on a drone of wood which on several occasions has used threatening on my face wanting to attack me but when they see it not.  Because the old man is naughty.
Also that I not claim that my wife touches me keep you bum brother, who only works occasionally for drink.  The good work that has been wasted by alcohol and its irresponsibility.
In my house I can not comment on anything because then my dear wife throws me a devastating scream and has the cynicism to say that she is of good temper and that do not shout (although they are listening to her from the corner). 
Should be noted that since the papi of she lives in this House, my wife talks is screaming (as the old is apparently deaf and always speaks to the cries, she is contagion).  Apparently, because si listens and understands everything that suits you and makes the deaf to other things.
I who was a Stallion (when single had up to three women in a village) is reduced to a poor man who begs a forced sex almost non-existent because my wife keeps with headache, backache, etc., most of the 365 days of the year and the other few remaining this in a bad mood that scares.
My wife keeps bitter because the MOM who was very cheerful and helpful, died of cancer (11 years ago) and the Pope keeps sick because he does not care: while almost all of his daughters they crave to get medication, take it to the doctor, taking tests, get you home and homeopathic remedies, be aware of giving their pasta in time, each time flies for the bakery around the corner to eat snacks (sweet(, cookies, etc) every day with which treatments serve you pa un carajo.
Several of the daughters handled him the diet ordered the doctor, but the old alleged and claimed that "they were killing him hunger" and why it is the person who most eat in our House.  I play up to hire a lady to prepare food and this slope give food first that everyone else throughout the day: breakfast, half nine, lunch, something, lunch and even dinner with the latest pills at nine o'clock in the evening.
My wife smiles I just when I give him the money from my salary every month and talk the per diem each that I won (almost monthly), when give you gifts that gives us the Office (Anchetas, bonuses, vacation passes, etc), when the Office makes us rides for the family, when I give him silver customers and organic fertilizers.  In general, when I pass ticket. 
It sadly forgets her as I ran a few years ago when his illness until I dared to threaten death to each employee of the e. p. s.  who did not want to authorize your treatment, regardless of me the stunned guard had reacted with his gun and a Greek tragedy had armed (because I was resolved to all) and/or they had called the police and perhaps the tale ended with a taking of hostages or that is me with despair and anguish that I had in those days and with the working stress also drove.
Because my wife is able to traverse the village with a pot with food for the Pope (even bring another municipality) but if I I am the husband say I want a cup of coffee (and is sometimes only serve because I myself have prepared) it embejuca and alleges and whips the dishes (and that the tour of the kitchen to the room are just as seven or eight meters).
My daughter this College studying legal science or law. 
This fact got me to the edge of the heart attack because she, in addition to being intelligent and good student is stubborn and bad temper.  
Then, when I am for their academic well-being and ask that if you have tasks to help you make them (the case is that there are lawyers who ask me for advice and even helped them compose written thanks to my extensive knowledge in legal issues) it bounces and plays put together a fight to be able to help you and in the end do the best work of the study group. 
Of course, he never acknowledges nor appreciates.  According to his modern thinking, it is my duty to give so much money as help him study.  That Yes, respect me has little.
With this balance so poor and so sad, only I would devote myself to listen to music that I can't hear (because can't me turn the great team of professional sound that I have in the living room but this unarmed) and take me all the liquor bottles that I have in the liquor that I myself built attached to the wall and remains full of different liquors. 
Which I can neither unblock because the refrain so boar that is formed immediately that I begin to organize my computer's sound to make it sound, discourages even more the boar of the world together (thus this armed with sharp machete and seven branches leather case) and I have to leave it better quietico.
I think these women are able to bore up to a Saint who came into their lives.  Without fatigue, they would end up with the patience of Saint Job in a matter of days. 
And this is already much say.
My problem (as it says disk guasca) is that I'm not as brave as before and am not able nor shoot me nor seek him fighting one of the many thugs that abound in my village, so stick me two or three shots and finished there in the street surrounded by gossipy.
"When I was in this world" was brave, daring and even asshole.  He bought a fight, he was walking with friends malgeniados and complicated than I. 
Poor guy that "we looked ugly" because incongruous to the consequences.
Trouble the fateful drink and then, while I open the door to the street (because the hijuemadre poison me did nothing to nothing since apparently neither the death wants to encartarse with me) to walk with a limp toward the avenue that is opposite the House and speak to invade (with premeditation and treachery) exclusive mass transit rail hoping that you pass a transmilenio a toda mecha and trample me so I remove penalties and take me to rest, I reconsidero the title that it should perhaps take this story.
Perhaps it should be: "CHRONICLE OF A SUICIDE ANNOUNCED". 
Any resemblance to a coincidence, if it is absolute, total and unconditional reality.
Nabetse Selbonarg
Trujillo, 18 November 2012.


Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en a solicitud de Nabetse Selbonarg (Yury Esteban Escobar Grano.
Publicado en el 20.11.2012.


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