Who am I, citizen of a country that have to get up at three o'clock in the morning, prepare for me something to eat and little coffee (lucky), traveling then up to the supermarket to do the tail to buy the flour for the arepas. Today there was no luck and only they sold to us one kilo of short pasta.
I am the citizen of a country where an old man (my case) that has been diagnosed with hiperplasia benign of prostate and must take every day a TANSULÓN pill does not obtain this medicine and when it is obtained price is so high that it is not possible to pay.
I am the citizen of a country where the service of Urban Cleaning or recollectors of the garbage comes when one less waits for them, almost at any time. One can be eating, bathing, it can be raining, on Sunday in the evening, we have to go out running with the bag-seller or the keg of garbage, some neighbors do this if shirt, barefooted, hears a shouting “THE CLEANING, THE CLEANING”
What else can I say about me? I`m almost a personage of a story of terror. See you! if I still alive.
Aquí en Vzla muchos pasamos esto, es un sentimiento de humillación combinado con indignación!! Comparto completamente tu punto de vista, saludos*
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