So, here I’m, at the top of some illegally occupied building, I mean, what we call “a squat”, and so, actually, now I’m at this sort of balcony, staring at the sky, and, staring at the populace passing by down there, on the main street, I mean, from here I only can see their heads dangling around, these silly cockroaches, humans, and then, as I come back inside, already going along the last floor’ halls, I´m getting inside the first room on my left, a room filled with balloons bumping against the ceiling, the walls scribbled all around, and thus, there I go, already approaching these walls, this is, now analysing some of those scribblings, and then, as I leave this room I enter on the next one, that once was some kind of office, now all deconstructed, this is, there are various piles of dossies 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 just then, moving to one of the corners, rummaging through this piles of documents, this is, now analysing some of its contect, and 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 so, finally, here there are some people, I mean, a bunch of freaks is actually seated on a floor in an open semicircle around a pile of trash and food, well, it looks like things recycled from the supermarket bins. And, 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, now, I 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, moulding it, and, sometimes looking at me in a weird way, or, maybe looking at the window on my back, and so, I’m 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 a guy with a mohawk and a girl in goggles wearing a black bra over a white t-shirt, and on her right side is a 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, in front of them, clutching this broken guitar, this is, randomly throwing my fingers against the very untuned strings, and, from time to time, not permanently, hearing parts of their conversations, and even, participating in some of them, when it interests me. As now, the bearded guy with the Russian hat saying “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, until that “but if we destroy it”, the girl with the chain hanging from the nose 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…” he dude with the mohawk says in his thick Scottish accent, which causes some laughter. “But they already know we're here,” says the guy with the Russian hat. “They think they know, but they don't know anything, we're the ones that escaped, they're the ones that chase, so we are the frontline…”, 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 so, at this point, I’m already leaving this room, walking through the halls, and then, I enter another room, and well, inside this room there is a lot of dust hovering around, dust or dunder, being illuminated by the rays of cold light coming in through the holes on the window panes, and so, there I go, looking though this holes, spying the streets, again. And then, I hit the stairs, and there I go, one more floor down, and now, as I walk around through the corridors here, I see a lot of tents installed inside those rooms, some kind of freaks messing around this tents, this is, travelling people I can see, guys and girls talking about their past travels… their many desert crossings, etc… And then I hit the stairs again, and there I go, one more floor down, I walk through the corridors, I get in another big room, and here I see a lot of people 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 to the roof. And then, again, I come back to the stairways, one more floor down, going through the corridors again, and one more floor down, and another one, until that I’m on the ground floor, and here there are a lot of homeless people and some tourists circulating around them, and then, as I pass by some improvised bar, I see this small group of kinky tourists being given a speach by one of these homeless guys dressing a raincoat, and actually, as he speaks, we have here a bunch of young casuals, maybe bloggers, in front of him, hearing what he has to say, and plus, me, I’m seating on the sofa here to, looking at him, and looking at the ones interested in his story, that he restarts now “...politicians, we all have been watching them talking, chatting, babbling on TV screens through the times... serious faces trembling on the mirror… their neck being strangled, as usual… dull expressions punctuated with grimaces, plus some defected smiles... and then, these bulgy eyes, more like a bull, never looking straight to you… however, the fluidity of their speech may capture your attention and perhaps you not really understanding all their words, but, you will keep watching it, and then, when you take a look at the sides… this is, maybe while you ingest your food, coz you may be at home eating your dinner now, you try to interpret the origin of this or that silly comment you couldn't really understand… and then, there you go, looking at the screen again, getting hypnotized by the speech of this man that once sold his soul to the devil just because of… bubbles… and then there is his language, a mix of economical terms and populist expressions stole from the working class... plus, some vocabulary from jurisprudence, if necessary… terms that, sometimes, nobody understands… plus some science verbiage, just to be with the times... this, all flavored in a powerpop journalistic tone. Because yes, news, the actuality, this is their motto… our motto… and, it has to be like that… or, aren't they there, in that position, to create the present, to play saviors of this world? But, well… I'm not saying that all these stratagems only serve to support his lust for power, because yes, that kind of lust also exists in all of us, isn’t it? In me, in you, in them…hacking the system at this precise moment… (and when he says this he is actually making some kind of nod upwards) and so, I insist… I'm not saying that their speech is all fake, because yes, it's good to remember… words have a body too… this is, once released, they can fall over humanity like weapons, or at least… like some kind of virus that may spread through the minds and the bones and the hearts of all biological systems and non-bionics systems may also be touched… and so… the desire of making the nation more wealthy, may be worthy, may not.. well… there is a fact, some people, and not a few, still believe in politicians, thus… when we have a need… a demand… a require, we expect to receive the product soon, at home, through the mail, or through the email, if possible, because, that's the capitalist way of doing it, if we still wanna label it like that... but then, yes, we already know, we are all creators... coz, life is meaningless… so, we are all here to create a meaning... thus, power is a thing that all human beings pursue, but… some will more easily get satisfied than others... and, there are many kinds of powers… the power of being in control… the power of giving orders and instructions to others… the power of being in charge of plans and structures, trying to make it happen in a smarter way than others did before… and then, somehow, making it even more lucrative and enjoyable than others did before, but… the concept, the plan, must have some traps in the middle too… this is, some traps where people can deposit their left-overs of happiness… to say, the power of winning a match… the many sport competitions and their actors… the athlete full of self-esteem being respected and parsed by the public… individuals that want to be as cool as this or that athlete or that star.. thus, the will to feel closer to the skies, even if God is not there… this is, the desire of being at the top of the world is something yearned by almost everyone, or at least, the desire of being at the top of a stage... Yeas, everybody likes a bit of fame, even the awkward one… always trying to escape from other human beings, but, at the same time, dreaming that day that they will come out of the box, do some kind of killing, some kind of justice, and save the world at the same time… this is, the artist, the seeker, the sensible soul, here sweating and bleeding, producing some kind of rituals inside themselves… being constantly in war with their own monsters… monsters they have absorbed from all the movies they have seen... all the books they have read… all the stupidities they have passed through, and then, after the destruction comes the lull… this is, the winner and the loser becoming the same again… and so, here we are coming into some dogma… The power of the flesh! The nativity! The household! The propriety! The ambition of the clan! and so on… therefore, the so-said politician that I once was, here he is, now engaged with bankers, scientists, and some kind of military chiefs... here he is, claiming a reconstruction of the system, this is, for him, for us, the system as it is now is never perfect… he always wants more.. we always want more… and then, yeas, we know, life is about change, but, a permanent intent to restructure the structures of the system will make it sick… so, sometimes it's time to stop and accept the world as it is… take a rest, listen to the clouds, go with the flow… and so, that's why I retired… I retired to read about the magnificence of my ancestors, and also, I retired to read some fiction, I mean, to let myself be immersed by some fantasy things… but, back to the metropolis, I didn’t want to give instructions any more. Thus, I just had to listen to what my subordinates had to say and… I would choose the best ideas, this is, sometimes randomly, because we know, the goal is always the same, economic growth, economic growth, economic growth… and so, at some point, I just had to dramatize a opinion, make it look more real and less confuse… coz, you know, too much emotiveness is not good, you know, people want chocolate, but hard chocolate in a tablet, so that they can break it in pieces, this is, they don't want to be seen with chocolate fluid dropping from their lips or chin… thus, I got saturated with propaganda… I got saturated with good fake intentions, and then, at some point, people would spot something abnormal in my nose… in my haircut… and it came the day… that the industrialists were no more with me… and… in the meanwhile… a scandal about my private life would spread through the media, through the commercial institutions, through the coiffures… this is, I lost a lot of friends but got the support of others that I didn't know were there... And so, it was with the help of some of these new friends, the outmatched ones, that I managed to move into a new stage, this is… I made alliances with old enemies… I even went to have gracious dinners with them... and, in all these dinners we used to have conversations about everything less politics… I mean, for a while, I even dedicated myself to my family, like I never did before, so, I dedicated myself to my wifes, to my children, to my pets… I tried to fix the scars… the scars the Midea made on them because of the bad propaganda about my party… thus, at some point, I would get this chauffeur… coz, I was no more into driving, and yeah, this chauffeur would become my best friend… this is, I got the habit of making permanent visits to his house, and, while there, we would discuss trivial matters… This is, I was recycling my energy with this sudden approach to the working-class, a life that I really have never experienced… but you relax now! All this doesn't mean that I was becoming some kind of socialist, communist, or something like that, because… that rhetoric was already part of me in the past, when I entered the political world, during my teen's… I means, just then, with the conquest of the power, I became a republican, a moderate, I became whatever the others wanted me to be… so, this is, I ordered missiles through the post, I made war against starvation, and then, I invested all the money in fictional projects… projects that got all mislaid… because of… and thus… what more could I wish? Yeah, it came the time, at this point I just wanted to have some fun! That's what I wanted... and so, I became friends with new enjoy-yourself institutions; cheap philosophers; tourism wizards… things like that, and, at some point, I even got in an affair with an ex-tv-presenter-wanna-be-actress, but that thing was transformed in a big scandal, they said I violated her, they, yes, the Midia, I mean, anyway, I got tired of all that and decided to retire. So, just like that, I got into my jet and escaped to the so-called underdeveloped world where I went to do some kind of surgery, in a private clinic… and so, once there, while moving through the countryside, I would buy a house, or better, I would buy a mansion there on a hill with luxurious vegetation, a hill where there was already some other escapees from the same modern world I was also coming from… and thus, it was with them that I began organizing lascivious parties at the local church… this is, a new kind of church, a church for the the-new-riches-freaky-spiritual-something, and thus while joining this events, we were all in the search of a new kind of pleasure, new kinds of magic, or, whatsoever… And for this, I even contracted some sort of gurus to live with me in my mansion, plus their secretaries and promoters, that would do all the job for me… so, I just had to work in the back, licking counterfeit pussies, masturbating sambo cocks… etc. I mean, so much oil they would ejaculate that, I would get sick of it all and decided to change to other more clean, not so scarce energies… and then, taking the counsel of my personal warlocks… I have also decided that I wouldn't eat any more meat and I wouldn't go into any more regular sex sessions. Thus, I got on a diet of escargots, flower-cabbages, carrots and pink onions, and my shit would become shiny-green and my mucus would become velvet-blue… and at this point, I didn’t know any more in which kind of business I was involved… this is, as I remember now, at some point, not satisfied with all that I have conquered, I went to take refuge on the top of some hills, and so, once there, I decided to climb a high and dry palm-tree... and thus, seated on the top of it, I cried and I cried and I cried... and just then I saw, my tears were coming down over the fauns... and plus, while there, I even thought about suicide, about providence, about angels and demons… as I remember… but no, I didn't have the courage to kill myself… thus, while still there, at the vertex, I would take a decision… and the decision was… that, I would come down, and slowly, with my power, I would destroy the whole world, and then, just then, who knows, I would kill myself… but then, as I put my feet on the ground again, I realized what was happening with me… actually, I was just missing the combat in the parliament, I was missing the applause from the public, and, perhaps, I was also missing the scandals on the news… so, thinking about the golden old days, I would return to my mansion, excited, kicking all the androgenic chickens on the way, and, as I went inside, I would start to destroy all the house, just because, it was mine… and then, I would I make knots on the hair of all that impudent women around… I mean I would tie them together… and also, I would set fire to all my emotional advisers, and then, just then… to my room I would go in order to dress up… and so, in a while, with my old smoking on, old but clean, I would come out through an alternative door, escaping the flames, escaping the screams… and then, I would get in a secret lift that would take me out of that hill… this is… minutes after I was on the airport entering a private jet… and, as I landed on that old country, actually this country, yes, the police were already there waiting for me… and so, on the following days I would go through a series of trials… this is, I would spend all my money with lawyers and law advisers, but for nothing, this is, I would lose everything and would end up in the streets… like many here present today…” and so, finally, as the man makes a pause now, there are some people clapping, and I just look at him, now rummaging through his pockets, and then, he his even showing something to their listeners, but I wanna see nothing more… and in the meanwhile, I go around, listening to other kind of similar stories, told by other sorts of homeless guys, and at some point, some kind of journalist guy comes to me and asks me if I also have a story to tell, and me, well, I run away from him, and as it goes, at some point, I find myself going through some kind of secret door that takes me onto some moving stairs, and then, as I go down, I already can already hear some kind of puffing sound plus some muffled blastbeat, 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 black-metal/grindcore music in the back, in low volume, and so, as the guys see me, they tell me to stand back, and there I stay, watching the guys, inserting codes on computer programs, strafing on keyboard, soldering wires, and also, for a while, I can see what's going on on some of that screens, this is, strange character running through it, some kind of symbols appearing and disappearing, and so, I think to myself, that they might be some kind of hackers, and, then, as I try to approach them, tripping over cables and other machinery artefacts scattered around, one of the guys, a bonehead, quickly stands up and comes to ask me for the password. And so, I, well, say a word, randomly, but, it looks like it is not the right one, thus, straight away, I’m 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 the pawns passing on the main street, and, by looking at their feet, I try to understand in which city I may be actually.
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