“The State Calls Me Criminal”: Text of Abraham Cortés

Translated and Submitted to It’s Going Down

Hi Compañerxs,

I greet you with a scream of rage, solidarity and anarchy. After a little more than 94,608,000,000 seconds of being kidnapped by this damn “fakin” system, and after 23 days in solidarity with the other comrades, and for all the events that take place daily in this world, I believe it isn’t necessary to mention “why” this hunger strike, which has now become a fast, because we live it daily. It is not important where we are, here or there, in what we call the streets, because everywhere we are watched and forced to be servile, and this same submission is what gives the power to the powerful and the struggle to the struggle.

Who am I?

My parents call me Abraham, the state calls me criminal and the comrades then don’t care, I say SERCKO. More than that, I am only a living, thinking, untamed being, like a lone wolf, without a master and without a god. Comrades, I would like to share with you something about myself. It is from my oldest memory that in my life there has always been resentment, hate, sadness, distinction, depression, oblivion, oppression among other things, observing and feeling everything, a life accelerated “from here to there,” or as we call it here in jail, “el pagador.” But “el pagador” does not have a chance in hell. I did not elect my parents, my economic or social status. I did not ask to live, but my parents made me to stay together, I was a heated moment. But fine, I am already here, but without changing the years pass and I stop being tender, greedy, and naïve. I become domesticated, studying, learning, I know the best and to change what? A bad response a beating, a good response, a beating…then what is it?

After Jesus Christ was everywhere, I did not know what more religions and sects to reject, and what I feel is a false hope. They first wanted to instill in me Catholicism, and then Christianity. After which they doubted themselves. I believe in what I feel, in what I see. Until now, being myself and knowing who I am is the best thing that has happened to me because I do not have attachments and I do not need any god, image, or feeling to make me feel that I can die without problems. Since I broke the family lock and cut the umbilical cord and did not return to the house, I have become worthy of myself, with highs and lows, with the desire to be someone, forgetting who I am, forgetting this world, reproducing bitterness learned from this society, but in search of myself. Sometimes I ask myself what I want, but now I want to be free, like millions and millions of exploited, although for me liberty is a friend, no, true freedom is lived after death, because you return to be nothing.

Why ask for physical liberty or amnesty if wherever you go there will always be an oppressor, rules, walls, gods, systems of submission, money, slavery, work, slavery, religion, slavery. There are many ways of seeing these systems that are imposed by those known as high society, like the often mentioned narco-trafficker, that in spite of being spoken poorly of by the media is seen well by the state, because it is a way of having more money and power while controlling the population with cheap and addictive sedatives, substances made by human hands, the same that kill our youth throughout the world on a daily basis, at whatever hour, in whatever place. However I do not believe that all drugs are narco-drugs, the businesses release their own drugs, coca-cola, bimbo, McDonalds, pizzas or what we call “Rancho de la calle”.

Also clothes, cosmetics, accessories, things and things, a bunch of bullshit that they invented only to make more trash, to contaminate, to alienate and to maintain more control over the population.

Compañerxs, this is something that I think and that I have lived but like many there is something that I have always had, REBELLION. That rebellion keeps me sane in the face of this social madness. This rebellion and this dissatisfaction before what I see and feel is what makes me struggle. It is not important if you don’t run into me, it is not important if we never act together, it is not important where we are, what is important is that we struggle for an ideal.

Compañerxs,

Greetings and anarchy!

Your comrade,

SERCKO

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