a few initial ramblings

I finally believe this was the story I was always meant to write about. My mother told me so many times about my grandma's odyssey from her little village in Spain to the rambunctious and big Mexico City. Growing up, I was surrounded by these heroic stories. My grandmother's, my father's, my mother's and my aunts and many many more. I believed for a very long time that every human on Earth led a life like that. Some heroes, some villains, and some, well many, victims. Victims

1 am 6/14/2026 i'm really not sure if anything i ever write will matter to anyone but me. but that's okay, i think. i miss being numb, because i miss the absence of thought. at a young age i began pondering life's mysteries like a young philosopher. i have to interject with a comment that i don't believe my writing or thoughts are worth even a minute amount compared to actual philosophy. all those years of thinking "why" why do people die why do bad things happen to good pe