The Psychic Adviser. Juan Moisés De La Serna

The Psychic Adviser - Juan Moisés De La Serna


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      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

      The total or partial reproduction of this book is not allowed, nor its incorporation into a computer system, nor its transmission in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, by photocopy, by recording or other methods, without prior writing permission from the editor. The violation of the aforementioned rights may constitute an offense against intellectual property (Art, 270 et seq. of the Penal Code).

      Please contact CEDRO (Spanish Reproduction Rights Centre) if you need to photocopy or scan any fragment of this work. You can contact CEDRO at the website www.conlicencia.com or by the phone at 91 702 19 70/93 272 04 47.

      PROLOGUE

      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

      Contents

       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


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