And
so,
by
now, somehow,
here
I’m, at the top of some illegally occupied building, I mean, what
they call “a squat”, and thus, this is, by now I'm actually on
the roof terrace, staring up at some kind of jets passing over
our heads, and then, as I turn my head down, down there I see the
populace
actually
passing on the main street in front of this building, say, from here
I see only their heads dangling around, these silly cockroaches, or
humans, as they call themselves, and then, as I come back inside,
already going through the last floor’ hall, I’m getting inside
the first room on my left, say, a room filled up with balloons
bumping against the ceiling, the walls scribbled all around, and so,
here I’m analyzing some of those scribbling, and then, as I leave
this room, I enter the next one, that once was some kind of office,
now all deconstructed, this is, there are various piles of dossiers
and notepads in each corner of the room, some semi-burned, some
wrinkled, and a vase with flowers in the middle of it, like an oasis
in the middle of a bureaucratic desert, and so, there I go, first
getting closer the oasis, and then already moving to one of the
corners, this is, now rummaging through this piles of documents,
analyzing some of its content, and well, I may say, not so
surprisingly, its all about buys and sells, loans and debts, well,
boring stuff, and so, I leave it for the dogs, and there I go,
already entering on the next room, and, finally here there are some
people, I mean, a bunch of freaks actually seated on a floor in an
open semicircle around a pile of trash and food, say, what looks like
things picked up from the supermarket bins from the streets around.
And, so, here I sit too, at one of the margins of this open
semi-circle, already holding a guitar with some broken strings on my
lap, and, thus, as I raise my head, I actually see in front of me on
the other side of this semi-circle, a girl with pink hair and
oriental eyes rubbing some kind of ball made of tinfoil, this is,
molding it, and, sometimes looking at me in a weird way, or, maybe
looking at the window on my back, and so, I’m now looking through
her too, at some imaginary window on her back. But, let's talk also
about the others, for example, on her left side is this guy with a
mohawk and this girl in goggles wearing a black bra over a white
t-shirt, and on her right side is this girl with a thin chain hanging
from the nose til the ear, followed by a bearded guy with some kind
of Russian hat, messing up with some cassette tapes now, this is,
eating them, vomiting them, throwing them around, etc. And thus, here
I'm here, still in front of them, clutching this broken guitar, say,
randomly throwing my fingers against the very attuned strings, and,
from time to time, not permanently, also hearing parts of their
conversations, and even, participating on it, when it interests me.
Therefore, now, the bearded guy with the Russian hat actually says
something like this “In the near future, money will be like an
energy bar in our body, so, if we don't have enough, we'll go into a
vegetative state…and”; “That’s why we have to destroy it now,
before we get to that point…” intervenes the girl with the bra
over the t-shirt as I hit the guitar, haphazardly. And then, there is
some silence, this until that “but if we destroy it”, the girl
with the chain hanging from the nose says says, “we will take the
risk of self-destruction, as well…”; and then, “guys, the point
is not to destroy it, but to spend it all, at once…” the dude
with the mohawk says in his thick Scottish accent, which causes some
laughing. “But they already know we're here,” says the guy with
the Russian hat. “They think they know, but they don't actually
know anything, we're the ones that escaped, we are on the
frontline... they're the ones that chase…”, says the girl with
the bra over the T-shirt. And then, “you know, they betray each
other, they're fake…” the guy with the mohawk says. “But money
always existed…” now says the guy with the Russian hat. "During
the dinosaur age there was money already!?”, exclaims the girl with
the chain. “Dinosaurs still exist,” I say, just to say something.
“Everything exists, if there are names for things, it's because
they exist…” says the girl in the middle, that one with oriental
eyes that was crumpling the tinfoil ball and looking at me strangely
in the beginning, and as she says that, I hit the guitar again,
awkwardly, stiff, and as I do it, in this precise moment she throws
the tinfoil ball in my head. And at this point, I’m already leaving
this room, say, walking through the halls, and then I just enter
another room, and say, inside this room there is a lot of dust
hovering around, dust or dander, being illuminated by the rays of
cold light coming in through the holes on the window panes, and then,
there I go, looking though this holes, spying the streets, again. And
then, I hit the stairs again, and there I go one more floor down. So
now, as I walk around through the corridors here, I actually come to
see a lot of tents installed inside those rooms, and some kind of
hippies messing around with this tents, this is, guys and girls
actually talking about their past travels… rainbow gatherings, etc…
And then, I hit the stairs again, and one more floor down, I walk
through the corridors, I get in another big room, and so here, I
actually see a lot of guys scattered through the carpet floor, some
semi-naked, some really naked, doing some kind of yoga, maybe martial
arts, and others, jumping over each others, climbing from the walls
to the ceiling, etc. And then, again, I come back to the stairways,
this is, one more floor down, going through the corridors again,
until that I’m actually on the ground floor, and say, here there
are actually a lot of homeless people and some tourists circulating
around them, and then, as I pass by some improvised bar, I even see
this small group of kinky tourists being given a speech
by one of these homeless guys dressing a raincoat, and, as he
speaks, we have actually here a bunch of young casuals, maybe
bloggers, in front of him, hearing what he has to say, and plus, me,
there I go, actually seating on some sofa, looking at him, and
looking at the ones interested in this story too, and so, now “once
they told me that my grandfather used to be called the sleeping
beauty”, he says “although he died in a motorcycle accident,
front wheel against front wheel, this is, both of the drivers were
actually drunk, and so, one died instantly and the other, well, the
other got mad for life… but, let’s not talk about that… let's
advance, so, yes, we may need the delirious in order to transcend the
duality of things, but also, I advise you, do not stay too much time
in the middle ground, coz, with the time, that may bring you some
misunderstandings, I mean, if you keep preceding like that you may
end up being bait for moss-troopers, and these so-said creatures may
try to kidnap your soul and take your body to the court in order to
exploit all your suppressed feelings. I mean, sometimes you may say,
'I feel so full of all this shit', but we know, all the times you
have escaped already, in all possible directions, and so, now,
escaping again, but to where? this is… some may say, 'wherever you
go, people's problems will be kinda the same', and, in fact, people
create problems in order to entertain themselves by solving these
same problems. So, my problem, their problem, your problem, I notice,
is to put the feet by the hands when it comes the time to sell the
fish... And so, yeah, maybe we can say, right now, once junky, junky
for life… thus, yes-yes, at this point the world has just become a
huge open-air wasteland filled with burnt sand, shards and enigmatic
worms wandering along the valves of shaggy hearts atrophied by the
lunar impatience and eagerness for Medea protagonism… and,
nevertheless, here we are, still swirling over a thorny and moldy
ground, this is, ejaculating anachronistic fluids in various
directions and senses... fluids that can corrupt both the sacred will
of understanding and the very bones of the office... but it will be
nothing... you must relax... be calm... coz, as you sing they may
dance... this is, we may continue with this little theater... no need
to force it, coz, the built-in radiant radiator of this message
generator will make sure of absorbing only the necessary lot that
will permit the enhancement of our fortunate fortune now…”And so,
at this point, when the man finishes his babble, as I approach some
of these people like you and try to get into some kind of
conversations, "Who are you"; Where are you from?; Where
are you going?"; "and what brings you here," and so
now, I kinda answer like this, “the thing is, nowadays we all
distrust everyone, say, brotherhood is just pretension; coz, in fact,
we are all atrophied by ideologies... all bogged down in a blue
virtual world, eating narcotic goodies on the way... this is, right
now, we are all suffering from some sort of hypothetical crisis, and
so, I may ask, what is beyond this synthetic body? What is beyond
these equidistant fearful skies; What is beyond this polluted floor?
Say... this ventricle is like an atomic bomb, thus, yeah, actually,
we are all doomed to give and to receive... but, I mean, the love for
the illusion is just like that, some kind of sandstorm where
deaf-mutes may meet. Plus, all these benedictine synthetic flowers
that shade the unprecedented intelligence of the bewildered epicurean
and, all that extracurricular meditations and studies on the
archetypal smile of the so called cyber-refugee…”; and, after
saying this, actually, it is the previous man that just continues, “I
even may say, Can I say? No matter how many mountains you've already
conquered or how many inhospitable valleys you've already crossed. No
matter how many bitches you've already trapped or how many mosquitoes
you've already idolized, you know, the purple light is always here,
absorbing the meaning of everything, and so, the universe never
satisfies itself... thus, as it goes, what we may see around, is
people eating mandalas in the morning, people playing with machinery
after lunch, plus, people investing their lives in probability games
in order to keep alive the flame of seduction and despair, and then,
at some point, we will discover that words are just a bunch of
abstractions, this is, a grammatical nest where spiteful rattlesnakes
may give birth to an extent number of poisoned toads now falling down
over the thorny cliffs planted around this city, plus their mucus,
already spilling through our dwellings, this is…” actually, as
that man continues to tell this things, say, I go around, though this
floor full of recycled apparatus stamped against the walls, people
engaged in particular conversations, different languages, and, at
some point, as I go down through some secret stairs, I can already
hear some kind of puffing sound plus some muffled blast-beat, like
some kind of monster-machine thing breathing with machine guns
operating in the back, and then, as I reach that basement, I see a
dozen of dudes around a bunch of very old computers and other
electronic paraphernalia, and so, now I understand from where this
puffing sound was coming… plus, there are some stereo playing some
kind of black-metal/grind-core music in the back, but, in a very low
volume, and so, I watch the guys in front of old computer, strafing
on keyboard, inserting codes, and others on the side, soldering
wires, attempting to make the connection between the analogue and the
digital world, and then, as I try to approach some of them, I’m
actually tripping over cables and other machinery artifacts scattered
around, and, this is, one of the guys, a bonehead, I may say, quickly
stands up and comes to ask me for the password. And well, right now I
just say a word randomly, but, it looks like it is not the right one,
thus, straight away, I’m actually being grabbed and pushed though
some kind of door in the back, this is, what looks to be some kind of
fire exit, and so, here I’m now, inside of what we can call a low
balcony, audébut of the fire-stairs, now looking up, staring at the
feet of these pawns passing on the main street up there, and then,
already moving up, through the surrounding walls.
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