Pendejos! There’s no waking from the siesta as you dream of carnival rides. Remember, recuerdo, how we snickered like a couple of putos as we helped everyone sew one eye shut and the other one open? Well?
Paisanos! If you want to be El Chingón again, like me, you must understand that true rebellion is impossible to capture. Think about it…
Aye aye aye, even Mt. Iztacihuatal is easy to climb. But controlling higher Wills es muy difícil, very difficult. I’m speaking about painting murals over and over in exciting shades of gray.
Amigos! Sientense. Sit down and remember how it was both of us that convinced people to believe that throwing rings around bottles was a meaningful act. Jes, they were compelled to reach into the running garbage disposal. Smiling at the corners of their lips like clowns, mouths harvesting confusion as they inquired, ‘is there really an outside of the carnival? How’s it a million planets don’t have their own three-headed, tentacled saviour?
If I might say, mi estudiantes, out of all the times I’ve had to remind you of the real you, this has been the easiest. Presta atención! Let’s create their world in our image.
I hear you asking, ‘How do I get those with an attraction to jumping off the Ferris wheel to take that step? How do I make sure the children never exit the funhouse? I’m just a journeyman.’
Chingón, you know my love for you. Comprende, I don’t want you to worry. OK? You are more like a three-thousand-year-old who has forgotten your dentures!
But here, know this, most putas are thirsty for acceptance. You’re eager, but you need to become the Luchador you once were.