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San Cristobal

And here I am in San Cristobal de la Casas, Chiapas, land of fighters and community proud of roots claiming their independence. During the rainy season it rains in Chiapas! Without stopping! And so the damp but beautiful San Cristobal welcomed me. City relaxed and relaxing festive and perfect for partying. The population is divided among the clubs that make the facts of its own, that integrate with the local tourists, tourists who think they are local tourists and tourists who now are no more. French riot of blond dreadlocks who believe themselves gypsies in the Balkans, in Italy the majority of people living in San Cristobal would be called hippies or sballoni, here they are defined alternative Radical Chic and of course street artists. I started working here, not one job but three, one at a hostel in exchange for room and board and pay that is not bad, the other in a bar cinema, pay, free film and dinner and top it off me are also passed off as professor of Italian, Italian courses a go go, and all for the big pay € 150 in total. WTF! The hostel where I work Besides being beautiful in itself is also surrounded by beautiful people, guests are now part of the staff, we have dinner and go out together. For my birthday, people have just met a party I even received some fantastic gifts! I also celebrated my first trip, I must say to my surprise, a year ago I never thought the trip what it was. It was a good year, a full year, a special year, we also make a special year for the next, someone wrote that does not necessarily have to go around the world, but around the world helps or helps meet different people, or just have a different relationship with life, with those around you and the place you live here.
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Sogno n°6

I am resting in the garden of a villa. Huge and very well maintained. At the head of the hedge which forms the border of each bed of fresh clippings, there is a small tree trunk and crown thin by the perfectly spherical shape, shaped by expert cutters. I am leaning with his head to one of these soft green balls. But instead of being as green as the leaves pittosporum that compose them, these balls are made of indigo feathers. Not blue, not purple, but his indigo: one seen only in the rainbow. These are the feathers of birds of paradise-tropical species that the long tail and the crest-velvety who bought the ball carved in the Italian garden of the villa for us to their nest. Before me is a stretch as far as the eye of nests indigo soft and smooth as velvet. It 's beautiful I think, but then I think I will have all the feathers hair was full of their excrement. In fact, I get up and I touch your hair with disgust: in fact my head is full of small white grubs and I want to wash my hair. I must find water, a bathroom and even if reluctantly, I must leave the tranquility of the park and the beauty of that wonderful view. There is a train waiting for me. A luxurious first-class-only train, such as Orient Express. The conductor has already been booed and I must hurry to rise. As soon as they are on, I find the bathroom and wash my head, very pleased. The train literally flies over the city like a monorail which are seen only in Japan or in science fiction. I see the windows wide and spacious slide out at high speed the roofs of Milan, the spire of the Cathedral and then Venice, Bruges, Amsterdam in rapid succession until the train made a brief stop for lunch in Belgium. Suddenly out of the dining car is a patio full of plants, covered by a curtain and lit by dozens of candles flickering in the breeze in the afternoon. It 's all more than perfect! And suddenly the dream changes.

disembark from the open countryside, near Palermo. The rails bordering the park of the villa of a noble woman friend Antonemilio. But I must have arrived late and he is not waiting for me. In its place quell'invidioso meeting of Nello and it makes me uneasy. For more about me is a whole swarm of super Nobilon with toffee-nose me up and down reciting their necklaces of pearls between her fingers. I have to be arrived very late for the buffet and tables are just sweet and I dive there, hungry as they are increasingly attracting the eyes of the haughty gentleman who leave the room grumbling, leaving me alone. Even the shadow of Anton. In the next room there's a girl behind a counter of glass that invites everyone to come closer to admire its precious stones. They are diamond, topaz, emeralds and cubic zirconia. Everyone is coming, it aspires to two or three mo 'cocaine and then slips a round mirror in the nostril to be able to see the stones from the inside like a magnifying glass. I am curious and approached the girl beckons me to try. To my timid and useless protest-no, the stones are too precious to me-she responds with a snort and a shrug of the shoulders, making me feel if possible even more uncomfortable than before. I do. So, awkwardly grab a large turquoise stone and I put it in the left nostril, but I can not keep up the good loupe round to view it from within. Uscirmi begins to nose bleeds. Turquoise is too big and I must have pulled too high. Finally comes behind me Anton. "What are you doing?" And helps me to slowly take away the stone from the nostrils, pushing down on the fins of the nose. I'm afraid to get dirty with blood shirt, but I can get to the bathroom without damage.

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roporre today a collection of bases designed and built to beautify the historical figures of soldiers and friends models, but also for the soldiers Fantasy. I just want to be able to determine the dimensions of the mold based on the measure.

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Luca (III parte)

"Once I dreamed of, you know? He had a pair of white shorts and t-shirt was also white. I waved from the sidewalk across the street, but it was full of cars that sped between us and I could not cross. That's right, I greeted myself with my hand I saw him slowly fade across the sidewalk. But I noticed that she smiled. "

The boy had never spoken with anyone so much as with Luca. They talked all day and nights. They understood each other without saying a word. Accomplices drugs or the innate sweetness of Luke, the boy managed to talk out his deepest fears, her most unmentionable fantasies, their deepest desires. Loved and was loved unconditionally. So when the fever broke out in August did not care that much. Luke lovingly cared for as usual and when the situation worsened, accompanied him to the emergency room and held his hand throughout the hospitalization and convalescence in hospital.
E seemed so genuinely surprised when the doctor told him that the boy had contracted HIV and that he also agreed to take the test. It was the last time the two were seen.
of recycled paper in booklet that he brought to the hospital Luke confessed he had never done the test and would never have done. Briefly hinted at that meeting for paid sex, the night he had decided to do away with the overdose. That man had promised him double the money if they did so without a condom but then reneged when they had finished the speech. That he was pissed off bad and finally the Sardinian had slammed the money at him and said, "So what you had to give I've already given."

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Luca (II parte)

their natural history went on after that night. The boy learned to appreciate the irony of Luke which is easily transformed into depression. Luca worked in a men's clothing store in the center but to hear he was working "on the road like a whore."

Now was the clerk in the store that had previously been owned by him. He had to sell the city walls to pay the debts of the drug. He had tried everything in a slow, inexorable escalation before coming era.

"So, one day, just to prove a friend in a basement."

That shit first sent him to heaven, then did the scorched earth around. Without more work, no friends, nor the support of her family-her mother and brother had not spoken to-life had become such a hell that had decided to end it. It was prostituted to get by and get the money that the overdose would send to the creator.

about to stop him from that suicide was the death of Marcus, his companion of pears, probably the same as the past had HIV. Mark had become fooled by a dose of G, another drug derived from the chemical detergent to clean the windows that Luke went to try the boy with the dropper and only after having made a million recommendations. Luke told him that Mark was not a tramp like him.

"He was a son of upper-class Milanese and dad had the paranoia of being caught from the chaff. This is why we made at home before going out, so we came clean at the disco and could get high without thinking. That both were always good friends to help him if he felt bad. Yeah. Trust a dick "Luke snapped.

"They were only after her money. And he did not know him well in your opinion? Only the rich as all that makes if the singing and if he played it, denying the truth even to himself, "he continued.

"I felt it for a week but he traveled often and was not so strange. And then he was often on his cabbage. Wrote. But that night was the last Saturday of October and Mark would not have lost the buzz for Halloween nothing in the world. I called him. The messaggiai. I went to ring the intercom. Nothing. Firefighters had to break down the door with an ax. We found him there. Nude in the bathtub with the dead flies in the glass with the G. He had paid too high a dose in orange juice or do not know, maybe a heart attack, collapsed. Or maybe it just slipped in the bathtub, banged his head and there remained. Drowned in 20 feet of water. But can you? "

Luca said that he had loved Mark and not for his money. He had never wanted to accept so much so they had to sell the store. He loved his candor, his integrity, his unwavering trust in friendship. Mark had written a text message the day after they met. Simply put, as was his style: "Friendship is a matter of chemistry. Like ours. "

" Love not. Mark did not believe it. "

Luke had also tried to get engaged to him, but it was short lived. The sex was great, the 'friend had a dick as a black-but Mark liked younger, much younger than him.

"Maybe because subconsciously wanted them to be the father he had never had. "

In a rare moment of weakness he had confessed to Luke that the only caresses it had received was when his father had stretched the skin of the face to show him how to shave.

not talked about it ever again. It was part of the unwritten rules of their friendship.

"For the friends that Mark would kill. It gave no limits but in return demanded so, so much. Not everyone understood and when they had finished to take advantage of his money the spring for a more richer. He suffered immensely and ended in disappointment for the home for a month. Then he gave a party farewell and changed the city. Whenever illusions that that was the right city for him. Milan, Rome, Amsterdam, London, Paris, Barcelona, \u200b\u200bNew York, Sidney. Where it went. And every time the city was the next right. "

Luca had been behind until he could no longer follow.

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Luca

between Gold and the pills had been Luke. When their story was over, Luke had written a letter to the boy. Or rather a little book filled with colorful pages of recycled paper.

"I loved you so much." Thus ended. With a recent past that the boy seemed so remote. I barely remember what he looked like Luke. Thank goodness on a page of paper was glued to the ocher-colored photo of the two of them sitting out in that pub in London. Of that honeymoon only remembered a Sunday afternoon passed the gay nightclub went up the stairs of the misted windows of sweat, the moods and smells of all those guys. They were two boys, too. Two beautiful young lovers crazy. He remembered as if Luke was there before him. That's so delicate and sensual wet your lips, a quick dart of the tongue under the thin mustache and soft as a teenager.

His legs are strong, hardened by step. What was the sex!

And the sweetness and romanticism of his incredible that leaked in the midst of the pain of those lines written in black marker and smudged with tears.

I wonder where was Luke at that time. If you really had gone in America as he had written.

New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco. I wonder if he would meet somewhere in his travels. I wonder if Luke was at least able to find true love there, the promised land of gay. Certainly he was not the lucky one. Their love was troubled, but perhaps because of it unforgettable. Luke also had lost her father a heart attack. And he, too, to escape the immense pain that had been lost behind false promises and false friendships. They had met on the track at a Shocking Milan after-hours during the Easter holiday. Luke was fuorissimo. Yet unlike his friends rocking waged a violent and onanistic, drugs in Luke emphasized his romantic side. He began to fondle the boy's hair every time he passed under a cube on which he danced highlighting his abs and his perfect muscular legs-was stripped to the waist and he was only wearing a short leather shorts. " Suddenly the boy was found the next. Luca took him gently by the hand, had dampened his mustache with his tongue and asked him: "Are you ready for the moon-walk?"

The boy l 'was fixed with questioning eyes and had recognized the influence of drugs in an excessive dilation of the pupils that almost completely hid the beautiful light brown color of her eyes. He knew that it was after the extensive use of so-called recreational drugs, but he had never taken anything-yes, and no one had made some cane with Silvia, and would not start right then. His father had died less than a month. His mother had fallen into a terrible depression. Did nothing but cry and the boy felt deeply guilty about leaving her home alone while he was there that he enjoyed. When Luke showed him the bullet with the special-key has already been charged to make a shot the boy did not understand. But Luke did just seemed fake and very gently pulled him in the bathroom itself. The boy followed him obediently, serene and unaware as a calf for slaughter. Luca knew all there, including bouncers. He was not difficult to reach the bathroom of the handicapped and have it open by the old housekeeper. The slipped into the pocket of a pair of blue apron € and she winked.

Once inside, Luke licked his lips again and kissed him long, tenderly.

The boy was won over by his attitude and decided on her full lips and wet. He decided to trust and when Luke took a shot of Key and reloaded the bullet for him, imitated him without a murmur. Return from bathroom on the cube in the middle of the track was much longer, slow and tiring came. But incredibly beautiful. Luca pace with the music before him, holding it close to hand. Every now and then he turned to see what happened, s'inumidiva lips and kissed him. The boy followed him faithfully strides, springy and light, as if walking on the moon. As they passed it seemed that the crowd of bodies squirmed as obsessed with the rhythm of house music suddenly opened as the waters of the Nile in front of Moses. When the end of that trip came back there where they had met, the boy thought it was gone forever and he understood why Luke had called "moon-walk". The effects of the anesthetic for horses that had sniffed lasted for a long time 'especially for the guy who had never tried before. Luke was his guardian angel through the night. There were only two of them and could hear their hearts beat in unison. When the boy woke up in bed with Luke's hand entwined with hers, was grateful to him. And when Luke discovered that he was pretending to be sent from his mobile phone a text message to her mother to reassure her he was fine but that he slept at a friend's house that night because they were late and did not want to drive, the boy was furious . Luke did not know if she loved him but was desperate for someone to take care of him. It is entrusted to him without reserve.

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triptych North

In Mexico, nobody has a clue where he lives, for which he works, but I wonder, no one here makes the cocks of others?
I worked in every place where I knew everything, where was the bank, which way do, how many times the girls were in the office next to bath .. not here, it seems that nobody knows anything, ignoring living.
small tour to the north, the great disappointment of Guadalajara, do not go there if you do not have, unless you also may be guests in a huge villa or captain in the craft market on Sunday with the various ethnic groups who engage in dancing surreal folk ( like a rain dance in short).
Mazatlan town by the sea, plain, where everything is Mexican, Who makes you a massage or a tattoo on the beach, tourists and vendors ambulance and funny thing, run to the beach with music composed by small double bass and accordion orchestras under the bulky .. Sol Leon is not it? Learn one of those Peruvian flute would not be practical? Fufuufufufufufuuu (Titanic). But on my trip north I found the Vernazza (5 Terre) Mexican non-stop without water, Guanajuato. Beautiful color throughout, the birthplace of Cervantes, I have not had the courage to comunicagli who is English, there are statues everywhere, even the Don Quixote and Sancho, have even a festival in his honor. Here, after all I was in a hostel, the hostel at the end I like, you can steal Shampoo, joke, you can take advantage of what someone leaves to everyone, including food, well, unless one puts the name becomes common. I put my name on all the food disappears and if I become a beast!
I ate the whole town for the Tamalas, I have always liked, from the first time I've tasted in Guatemala, after being elected in Bolivia favorite food, well yes, they did not have much choice here in Mexico, each people say that there is a secret recipe that is unique to their state.
Tamales All of the world are the same!
The traveler is traveling alone, it does not happy to return, he chose to travel because of the trade craft of wind.