«RECORDAR ES VIVIR» Iniciativa (ESP/ENG)

"TO REMEMBER IS TO LIVE" Initiative

Under the weight of the path I took,
memory is an echo.
Until Hive Intro exploded in my hand, and returned the lost thread.
I didn't pack a bag,
I didn't tread on dust,
but the map held my name,
and the app was the key,
and the blockchain, my diary.
Without moving,
I became again
who I was
in that gesture.
And here I am.

Greetings, warm Hive friends!

It's been 17 months and two days since I arrived on Hive. Thanks to this wonderful and useful DApp: Hive Intro, I open the link and reread the text of my #introduction

"WHEN I WOKE UP THE MARABUZAL WAS ALREADY THERE."

That's how I titled it, playing a bit with that literary gem by Augusto Monterroso.

Memory takes me back to that night when I finished the final version of that text. I remember the vertigo of hitting publish. I thanked Mailin Valdés, Lizbeth Lima, and Ian Rodríguez. They brought me to this community. They were friends before they were friends. Readers who became accomplices. Writers. Colleagues.

That was my introduction. My blog.

I remember the feeling of reading the first comments. Professor @josemalavem, @yecier...
Joy.

With time, there was sadness, because some of those first readers are now gone. They left the platform. They stopped writing. Their profiles remain, but their voices are no longer there.

Over time, I invited others to join Hive. @kpoulout and @piscologopoeta among them. I won @iriswrite a place in my heart forever.

Consistency kept me here. Day after day. Post after post. Now my counter exceeds 500 entries in seventeen months and two days. I've written about personal growth and reviewed books, film series, TV shows, and music. I've forged a path. Short stories. Poems. Unpublished chapters of my novels...

Each post has been a step. Some received many votes. Others barely a couple. The low price of Hive made me wonder if it was worth it, and I've answered that question by writing. The permanence of this blog doesn't depend on market value. It depends on the act of storytelling.

The marabou thicket I mentioned in that title is still there. The thorny bush of my childhood and the name of this account. Every word remains. Unedited. Unchanged.

I've seen others grow faster. I've seen others leave. But I'm still here. The power of Hive is measured beyond the token itself. It's measured in the ability to carve out a space of one's own.

I reread that text and see the child I was. I see my mother, my aunt, my father. I see the palm-thatched walls and the guano roof of my childhood home. That village has changed. But the text remains.

Each new post is a brick in this construction. The first one is still the foundation. The starting point.

Today I return to it to confirm that the direction I took then is the one I've followed. A marabou thicket can be a brand and also the place where one decides to plant their story.

That first post was just that. And here I am.

@kpoulout, @iriswrite, and @piscologopoeta are invited to participate in this initiative.

https://hiveintro.rutablockchain.com/

Hugs, hivers!

_{(Google Translation)}

© Marabuzal, 2026. Original Content. All rights reserved.