😱 U.S. Army captures a boat in Ve…See more

😱 MEXICO UNDER FIRE AND IN TEARS! CHRONICLE OF AN APOCALYPTIC WEEKEND: BETWEEN HIGHWAY HELL, THE VANITY OF THE “LIKE,” AND MONSTERS LURKING IN THE NIGHT

SUBTITLE: Death showed no mercy and let her hair down this weekend. A brutal bus crash that burned dozens of dreams to ashes, innocent children swallowed by the earth and violence, and inexplicable phenomena marked 72 hours of pure terror. While the country dresses in mourning and a “National Sadness” brings us to our knees, others prefer the circus of social media, indifferent to the pain bleeding the nation dry. Step right up and learn about the horror shaking our people.

BY: “EL CHALE” RODRÍGUEZ / LA VOZ DEL BARRIO / ALERTA ROJA MÉXICO

MEXICO CITY, MONDAY OF A TRAGIC HANGOVER.— If you, dear reader, thought you’d already seen it all in this valley of tears, hold tight and take a seat, because this weekend the Devil decided to change his ZIP code and move to Mexico and its surroundings. We wake up this Monday with our souls hanging by a thread and our hearts crushed, with a moral hangover that no plate of spicy chilaquiles can cure. The general feeling is one of deep NATIONAL SADNESS, as if a black cloud had parked itself over our heads. And it’s no exaggeration, folks, because what we just lived through feels ripped from the twisted mind of a gore-film screenwriter—except it’s the raw, unfiltered reality hitting us square in the face.

HELL HAS A ZIP CODE: THE HIGHWAY OF DEATH

It all began with the roar of the beast on asphalt. What promised to be a calm weekend for many families turned into a branch office of hell itself. Highways—those open veins where life and death flow—were stained red.

The images reaching us are Dantean, the kind that steal your sleep and make you cross yourself even if you’re not a believer. Recklessness and speed demanded their toll. We witnessed Tragedy with a capital T when a dump truck—an unstoppable steel monster—crushed a compact car like a soda can, leaving a young couple and their dreams reduced to twisted metal and a virtual black ribbon flooding social media. Elsewhere, a “Rosario Bus” coach—one that carries working people—was involved in a horrific accident, leaving bodies on the ground, covered with silver thermal blankets as emergency services struggled to keep up.

But road chaos didn’t stop there. Stress and urban madness exploded in a traffic dispute that ended with a luxury SUV flipped into a ditch; patience is gone, tempers flare, and boom—disaster. And when it’s not violence, it’s cruel fate: a white car wrecked on the roadside, a body covered with a blue sheet, and yellow “do not cross” tape marking the end of someone’s journey. Bodies on the shoulder under the scorching sun, helplessly watched by onlookers, became the weekend’s grim postcard.

NATURE ROARS, THE SKY FALLS, AND ENIGMAS APPEAR

As if fire and twisted steel weren’t punishment enough, Mother Nature also claimed her share, reminding us how small we are. Satellite maps don’t lie: they show a monster shaped like a hurricane approaching with fury, threatening to wipe what little remains off coastal regions. Where it isn’t wind, it’s water. Biblical floods battered entire areas, submerging homes up to the rooftops, families stranded on their roofs or rescued in makeshift boats as cars floated like toys in a toxic soup.

The sky brought fear too. A commercial plane was filmed landing dangerously close to a towering column of black smoke rising from a building—straight out of a disaster movie. And for military-watchers and conspiracy lovers alike, a state-of-the-art fighter jet—an F-35 worth more than whole neighborhoods—ended up smashed on a runway, its pilot sitting on the ground, miraculously alive, staring at the million-dollar wreckage.

Amid all this chaos came medical mysteries that raise goosebumps. What’s happening in the world? A young woman shared images of her skin covered in strange, terrifying protrusions—an unknown illness baffling doctors and reminding us how fragile and strange the human body can be.

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COIN: VANITY, CRIME, AND DEADLY INDIFFERENCE

This is where the blood truly boils, folks. Because while the country crumbles, while mourning blankets thousands of homes, the circus of vanity, organized crime, and frivolity keeps blasting at full volume.

Violence is unleashed. We saw figures like “Junior 30” posing in tactical vests, ready for war in the streets. In Honduras, police presented detainees with high-caliber weapons, while in the same image a covered body and a woman in mourning reveal the endless cycle of Central American violence that also hits us. The earth keeps giving up its dead; police and forensic teams were seen digging in vacant lots, searching for the remains of the “disappeared,” under the sad gaze of relatives—or public figures like Gugu Liberato (RIP) in internet montages. Missing-person flyers, like that of Emiliano Ignacio, plaster poles and feeds with faces of people who left for work and never came back.

Most outrageous of all are crimes against the innocent. The case of little Kimberly broke our hearts: her small body was found with signs of violence—an atrocity that makes even the toughest men cry. Young lives cut short—the mohawk-wearing boy, the beautiful girls who now exist only in photos with black ribbons—victims of this relentless wave of death.

And while all this happens… the contrast slaps us in the face. While search brigades dig and grandmothers weep in rural zones, “influencers” keep at it. A girl snapping a mirror selfie, hiding her face but showing cleavage, just before police raid her apartment. Vanity or cynicism? Another woman arrested by a police unit without losing her style—denim shorts and all.

To cap the absurdity, while the world burns with political tensions involving Maduro, Trump, and the woman who shouts, social media is more worried about seeing Hilary Duff’s backside in different pants, or sharing bizarre memes of a nun who turns out to be a cardinal—some strange heresy, who knows. Even Michael Jackson “resurfaces” in rumors, with coffin photos recycled to feed morbid curiosity. And let’s not forget those weird anime-style couple warnings about who’s on top—no longer funny in a context of gender violence.

END OF DAY: BETWEEN OPERATING ROOMS AND PRAYERS

The weekend closes with a metallic taste of blood and tears. Hospitals are war trenches. We see doctors fighting to save lives in operating rooms, intubated patients, injured people on sidewalks treated by firefighters, and X-rays of shattered legs full of screws and rods that hurt just to look at.

Mexico is wounded, folks. It’s bleeding—between highway accidents, nature’s fury, criminal violence, and a society that sometimes prefers a “like” over demanding justice. We see neighborhood wakes, people gathered at night under the yellow glow of a streetlight, saying goodbye to a friend taken too soon.

Light a candle, hug your loved ones, and if you step outside, cross yourself twice. Because in this Mexico of ours, life is worth nothing and death is loose—sometimes driving a dump truck, sometimes wearing a police badge, and sometimes simply hiding in the bad luck of an ordinary Monday. May God have mercy on us all. We’ll keep reporting… if reality allows it.