So, here I go now, running through the desert, rolling on the sandbanks, falling on the pit, and then, as I look up, I have this impression that the sky is actually approaching, getting closer, this is, apparently, falling over our head, but then, there I go again, dragging myself on the crest of the dunes, and thus, as I advance, I’m vizualizing some kind of towers appearing and disappearing on the horizon, and so, as I stare at it, I feel a great atraction, a strong desire of getting closer to it, even if it may be just an illusion made of sand and smoke, it doesn't matter, I really wanna get there, and so, here I go again, on the prowl of it, and, thus, 2 as I’m apparently getting there, they tend to disappear, to change place… and so, all in a sudden, as the devil rubs the eyes, I’m already being engulfed by a sandstorm, and, then, while I turn in the sand, there are various shadow beings coming closer, twirling, dancing around me… this is, goshes, sprits, jinnees, whatsoever… mumbling, hollering, yelling, freedding quaint laughs while turning around me… and then, I don’t know how, some of these shadows are already coming inside my body, tickling my bowels and spirit, and thus, as it goes, I have a palette of voices babling things inside my head, like “I’m the true-truwe, and I will guide you through the stars…”; or, “I’m the real-reel, and I will carry you to the matter…”; or “I’m the freeda-free, I will take you wherever you wanna go…” and then, there I go again, running through the crest of a dunes, still trying to approach these towers… now looking bigger and closer, but, well, after a while, they are gone again, changing their locations… and so, I have to change my directions too, thus, down another dune I go, and while descending, again, I fall on the fold, and then yes, while looking up I see that the sky is actually getting really close and as it comes down, in between the dark clouds, I see, some sort of blinking numbers becoming blurred faces with pointy teeth or… numbers that are also running and toppling over, changing its form and then, the voices I was hearing inside my head are actually incorporating these blinking faces coming closer, and closer, and... then, there I go, already being sucked by this magnetic sky, this is, probably my body and existence being choked by the jobbery of numbers and their nonsense. This is, now here, I’m just a prey being analyzed by the matrix, electricity and dysfunction running through my veins, meat and bones… Though, in my mind, or, in my conscience, while rolling through these tunnels at the speed of the light, I mean, while being sucked by the tentacles of these ultratechnologic machinery, I still know who I am, or at least, I pretend that I know. And then, while being engulfed by this meta-mathematical sky, I’m having emotions like misery, hope and contentment fighting inside myself, and so, I feel like fighting against the wind and making love with the sand at the same time... anyway, I’m falling through a hole now, a deep hole, softly, and then, as I go down I see images of the world’s history passing by at high speed, this is, I see imagens of big explosions, spaceships, flying crocodiles, and then, the primitive man naked in the hoods, under some big rock, rubbing two pointed sticks… trying to make fire, and then, in another groove, I see the sons of Adam all fighting together 4 because of … well, I don’t know the reason why they are actually fighting, but, then, as I look up, to the ceiling of this same cave, I see a lot of dollar notes falling from the ceiling, and then, landing on the bodies of the fighters, and further, I see all these people working on what looks like the pyramids of Egypt, and I also see some spiders making their webs around these men, and up, on the sky, I envision the gods, up there, laughing, drinking spirits, making toasts, and then, some drops from their drinks are actually falling down over the bare backs of the slave-workers now here, looking up, and then running in all directions, escaping their service, fighting with big quimeras on the side of the roads, dancing in circles with cobras around their necks… and so, again, as I go down this hole, I keep having more visions of wars, this is, I see the pilgrimage of Jerusalem, I see the medieval man inside big ships, adrif in the midle of the ocean, and then, I also see naked man/women trying to stop bullets with their own breasts… and further, as I keep falling through this hole, I see the atomic bomb falling over Hiroshima, children screaming in the suburbs of some city, and then, I even see the advent of internet… and so, this is, I see people stuck inside computer screens, their brains melting over the printed circuit boards, and then, somehow, I'm no longer inside this/that well, this is, now I'm falling down an open sky, and, I may say, I have just passed through an opening between some roofs and then, in a while, I’m already landing precisely on the chair of the defendant/accused inside this big courtroom, just in time to hear the verdict from the judge, a demi-robot, now staring at me, half smiling, his silly electronic wig falling a bit on the side, and, as he bangs the hammer on the table he shouts “Acquittal!”, and then the public claps and as I look back, at the assistance, I can see their vain expressions, this is, all of them are actually looking at their phones. And, in a while, the judge is no more here, or there, and so, I’m now being being seized by a couple of security/policemen, this is, they pull me through corridors that lead to another corridors until reaching a big door, and thus, by now, I’m actually being shoved outside, and, down this big marble staircase I fall, and roll over… And then, as I 5 reopen my eyes, I’m here, under this bridge, this viaduct, this platform, and everything shakes now… and then, everything is calm again, this is, by now I hear just the reverberation of the wheels against the clefts, up there, on the extremities of the bridge, a sound that may be comforting during the night but somehow, annoying at dawn… And so, here I go now, already leaving my cradle, putting my feet on the earth, this is, now becoming aware that I’m not alone here… I mean, there are other strangers around, quaint figures sleeping or dozing on their rubbish nests, this is, shabby mattresses, rotten sofas, improvised canapes, etc, here installed against the pillars of this bridge. And, now and then, I can hear some gruffness, like coming from a radio, hidden somewhere, and in the middle of this gruffness, bigotal words are being repeated over and over in some sort of mumbled murmur, probably by these shadowmen, apparently sleeping on these rubbish nests I just said. Further, already going through the white smoke, I pass some mounds of rubbish, a broken car turned upside down, and then, yeah, I reach the soft bonfire responsible for the curtains of white smoke I have just crossed. And so, I just sit here by the fire, watching the flames, spitting on the embers, burning some threads of hair, and, I may say, there is another guy here, some kind of middle-aged man, now setting his array of clay pots over the embers, pots with different sizes and shapes, many of them, this is, I know the man, his name is Viktor, or Aladinus, it depends, and yeah, he spends hours polishing these pots, pouring liquids inside it, talking to them in his whispered language… like now, and so, in the meanwhile he even confesses me about the substances boiling inside these pots, thus, “There are lemon tea with lizard teardrops; jasmine guayusa tea; tangerine mind tea, panda dung tea, jequirity beans tea, marshmallow chia seeds tea, mallow carob tea, locust tea, cobra skin tea, etc… but I can't tell you which one to chose, you should think about what you want to know, and choose one, randomly” he says. And then, as I look at him and to the many pots boiling on the fire, I listen some kind of “shrump…shrump” in the background, and so, yes, we already know that this is an interjection by the Butterman, a man that shows up here from time to time, this is, a man that used to be in the movies and ended up here, homeless, at least that's what he says, and so, there he comes, kicking the stuff around, while saying something like “Hail-Hail brothers and sisters from the Tartarus… this is Tantalus, and again, you that enjoyed the trust of the gods, this is, talking and dining with them… here you are now receiving punishment for perfidity… so, I say, soon, your necks will be plunged up in cold water, water that may disappear whenever anyone tries to appease its thirst, and see, over there, these 6 delicious grapes fruiting just above our head, they will rose out of our reach each time we try to catch them… and so… Virgil described a place like this here, a place surrounded by a river of fire called Phlegethon… a river that by its turn, was surrounded by a triple wall to prevent all the sinners from escaping… plus, supposedly, a wall guarded by a Hydra with fifty enormous black heads, but… I haven’t seen any Hidra yet… what about you, my brothers, have you seen that Hydra around here?” and now, as this man say this words, Zara-the-transvestite, comes out of his/her hut, protestesting about the noise this man is doing, and so, she/he tells him to shut up, and then, both enroll in some kind arguing, alreadyI may confess, I have been looking for it all this time… but boys, I’m getting disconsolate…” he says in some sort of cum tone as he approaches, and then when he gets by, he begins to throw pieces of butter over the fire where the teapots are actually boiling and Viktor, or Aladinus man, unnerved, tries to stop him of doing so, but, the other, just laughs and laughs, still throwing more and more pieces of butter over the fire, and then, as it goes, Viktor is already pushing the Butterman back, and the Butterman pushes Viktor further, and thus, there they go, moving around the place, arguing and pushing each other, and Zara, is also coming by, joining this kind of fight, and then, Yol, the harmonica player, his also coming, playing his harmonica in an abrupt style around them, but, he is not the only one, also Jaku, the cyclist from the Kevedra, is also appearing, making percussion on the loose pieces of scrap metal scattered around, and so, I may live now, coz this is not my fight. Thus, there I go, already walking over, this is, leaving the bridge, going down the slope, and then, pissing over the herbs by the creek… and so, here I stay now, watching the spectacle of the tail-wagging mallards coming out of what once were ordinary household appliances, now rusty corpses of old refrigerators, stoves, microwaves... all being disintegrated by the acidity of the water and respective mud… and thus, yes, now I may say, all this scenery gives me some sort of joy… it fulfills me somehow, and, I don’t need to know why. So, again, here are coming again the black mallards, small white patches spotted on their necks, and then, here they go, softly sliding away as I wash my acrimonious face in this downdraft waters, still thinking about that dream passed in the desert, me running through the sandbanks while the sky is apparently falling over, and then, here, there, on the other side of this creek, behind the brambles, there are birds whistling over and over, more like a… but actually, I can't see them. Can you? Like if they are not there, just a provocation, a fictitious reality designed to entertain alienated minds like you and me. Yet, when I whistle back to them, mimicking their sounds, they quickly reply with even more praise and exuberance in their melodies, and so, now, I sing with them… imagining feathers growing on my throat and ass... and, at some point, I even insert my two fingers in the mouth, doing as if calling a dog, and then, then yes, we can see the shrubs and the brambles shaking, there, on the other side, but still, I can't see that damn birds… Can you?
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