Make Me Invisible Part 03
I was living a most extraordinary situation under a most
fucked- up circumstance.
The constant chaos, rattle of automatic weapons, crippling fear
and the indiscriminate deterioration of our city kept me confined within my grandmother's house.
​
Still, this confinement didn't suffocate, in this place of light and air. And within its walls, the most palpable example of love was unfolding before me.
I couldn't possible understand what I had walked into,
the privilege that it was or what it meant.
I was terribly self-involved, empty, angry, disoriented, sad, cynical, constantly gasping for breath, eager to stop the
discomfort that devoured me.
Yet, the power of what manifested inside percolated without asking permission, without my knowing.
Through a lifetime of actions consciously and meticulously rooted in love, Adelisa, now 91, had solidly woven a most spectacular approach to living that was embedded into a semi-tangible fabric that was being spun daily through the actions of her two middle daughters. Her legacy on display, powerful and of impact.
Outside the violence persisted; endlessly.
​
Rampant killings, kidnappings, arson, stories too small to make it to print. No neighborhood was spared, no one was safe.
​
My inner turmoil almost as turbulent.
In a desperate attempt to survive my own mindI took risks that I couldn't pause to consider.
Every day without fail, I would venture across the border to the empty house where I kept "my stash". I would light up, escape, unable to stop, not wanting to stop, believing that this was freedom.
On my way back, before the sun set, as I crossed into Juarez, I would repeat over and over, make me invisible, make me invisible, make me invisible.​