Breathe
By Diana J. Torres
I am worried about my country, seriously. Generally, I don't care much about what happens on the other side of the Atlantic, that's exactly why I came to live far away a decade ago: so as not to find out what is happening in a country that was destroying me emotionally and psychically and that, with all the pain in my heart, I affirm that it has no remedy.
In the last few weeks, with the general elections just around the corner, fascism has taken off its mask and has gone on an exhibitionist rampage, bringing out arguments that resonate in the heads of those of us who have memory and that reveal similar, if not the same, intentions as those of the atrocious dictator Francisco Franco, who kept Spain submerged for almost 40 years in a dictatorship from which we have not yet recovered. The last few times I was there I could clearly sense that something like this was about to happen: anti-constitutional flags waving everywhere, police documentation controls at every corner, middle/working class conversations full of racism, homophobia, ignorance?
