Juan Moisés De La Serna - The Psychic Adviser

The

Psychic

Adviser

Juan Moisés de la Serna

Translated by Viana e Viana Suprimentos LTDA

Tektime Editorial

2021

“The Psychic Adviser”

Written by Juan Moisés de la Serna

Translated by Viana e Viana Suprimentos LTDA

1st edition: January 2021

© Juan Moisés de la Serna, 2021

© Tektime Editions, 2021

All rights reserved

Distributed by Tektime

https://www.traduzionelibri.it

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No one could have told me, and if they had, I would not have believed them, that I would be a writer, considering how difficult it was for me to read as a child.

Despite this, circumstances had forced me to this profession, since having as much time as I had now, locked up for life, I wouldn’t have much else to do.

It is true that some prisoners were engaged in exercising in the yard, and besides studying in the library, the weakest of them took training courses, but all of them have something that I do not have, an ideal to fight for and move forward.

With a sentence of a few months or even years, it is easy to think that the preparation will serve them well for something, and that it will be easier to make a living outside this prison, but in my case, with the certainty that I will never step outside again, what’s the point of getting ready?

Dedicated to my parents

Chapter 1. Dreams of Liberty

Chapter 2. Nothing makes sense

Chapter 3. Travel to Johannesburg

Chapter 4. The value of a life

Chapter 5. The deal

Chapter 6. Doctor Brain

Chapter 7 Flight to Johannesburg

Chapter 8 The interview

Chapter 9 The Sentence

Chapter 10. The kidnapping

Chapter 11. The new future

Life always begins

every morning at sunrise

and whatever your circumstances are

you can enjoy its heat.

Day after day goes by

and meaningless it seems

for some people the morning

a punishment is how it seems.

It all depends on the focus

this some say

the meaning of life

and how you want to live it.

No one could have told me, and if they had, I would not have believed them, that I would be a writer, considering how difficult it was for me to read as a child.

Despite this, circumstances had forced me to this profession, since having as much time as I had now, locked up for life, I wouldn’t have much else to do.

It is true that some prisoners were engaged in exercising in the yard, and besides studying in the library, the weakest of them took training courses, but all of them have something that I do not have, an ideal to fight for and move forward.

With a sentence of a few months or even years, it is easy to think that the preparation will serve them well for something, and that it will be easier to make a living outside this prison, but in my case, with the certainty that I will never step outside again, what’s the point of getting ready?

So much has been written about me, pouring out all kinds of conjectures about my ideology and the political motivations that led me to that, and they even argued and gave opinions about my mental health, that I have decided to write my own version, perhaps it is not the truth that some could hope, very far from the conspiracy theories that so many like, but it is my truth, it is just how I lived it and it was what led me to the sad situation that I am now, condemned for life, confined and away from everything and of all, without more than a small cabin with a few belongings.

Fortunately, in this state there is no death penalty, so I have escaped certain death, since I would have been sentenced to die in a painful way, perhaps through a lethal injection, but sometimes I even wish that end instead of spending the life imprisioned.

The popular jury sentenced me to life imprisonment, as if that could somehow compensate what I did, perhaps they would hope that I would reflect and regret my actions as time passed, but these were not committed in a moment of outburst, nor carried by no kind of ideology or fanaticism.

Although I have never doubted my mental health, after months leading the same life, locked up here, knowing that the rest of my life will be exactly the same, with the same schedule day after day, I am no longer so sure of my strength mentally as this would take a toll on anyone’s health.

Also, my neighbors, if they can be called that, are not what is called an example of civility, so I cannot make any kind of friendship with these inmates, serial killers, rapists or terrorists. They are the worst of the worst, sentenced to life in this maximum security institution where there is no privacy whatsoever.

Yes, even if they had only assigned me to a normal jail, at least there I could have some life and privacy.

Here everything could be seen, and we never stopped being scrutinized by the guards, who seemed to be determined to know everything about us, as if the countless interrogations they had subjected me to at the time had not been enough for me to tell them everything I knew.

Now with time, I have doubts about some dates, or events that happened, that is why I have decided to tell my story from the beginning.

It is not that I want to justify myself or anything like that, I know that what I have done is, at the very least, unforgivable, and I am sure that the sentence I have is fair, only that the same routine becomes unbearable every day.

I don’t know how others do it, a lot has been heard from those who try to flee, or from those who end up taking refuge in a religion, but in my case I have no hope of salvation for my soul.

When one runs over someone while intoxicated, or has an accident by overturning the vehicle that he is driving carrying a score of passengers, causing the death of some of them, one can come to repent and ask for forgiveness to the victims, One can even justify oneself that it was not intended, and that, if the circumstances had been different, none of it would have happened, but it is not my case, it never was.

Nor is it that I consider or compares myself with one of those psychopaths, serial killers or terrorists, capable of killing in cold blood, without feeling any kind of remorse, or with those who seem to enjoy hurting others.

I am just a normal man who has made a decision, I do not know what to call it, perhaps the right word is “drastic”, but I am sure that anyone else in my place would have made it.

Some may see me as a kind of vigilante, as some newspapers have described me, or perhaps as enlightened, as others have described me, but I do not feel either one or the other.

If they asked me, I would say that I am a normal man doing what my conscience dictated, it is true that this may not be the best, nor the most appropriate, but it was the only thing I could do.

Now with time, I think that I could have other opportunities, other methods and ways of doing things, that did not lead to this end, but in those moments, perhaps due to pressure, it can be that, led by the circumstances, I had not seen any other option.