La Perroflauteria

10341892_718576864851471_1837074088560797046_nGracias al Agente (O seria un Medico?) 1U793, podemos comprobar tu remedio en el video siguiente.

Es que no tio, ni un tiro en la frente funciona. Es que estos Perroflautas no entienden las cosas, ni a hostias… El gran problema del Facismo cuando esta travestido o transexualisado en democracia eh ! (Que no es un disfraz, es un engano !)
A lo mejor a ti te funcionaria para que se te abre un poco la mente,se nota que tu pobre mente lleva mucho tiempo sin ver la luz, verdad ? Cuando fue la ultima vez ? Cuando murio tio Franco no?

Espabila tio que solo en los meetings del PP y las fiestas de Espanistan 2000 se oye lo que leo en tu perfil de twitter ” ARRIBA ESPAÑA “, Espana esta muerta por culpa de la gente que votan a los que la violan, pero que lo sepas, hablamos en dia de hoy del Estado Espanol, no quedan Espanoles en tu pais, son todos Catalanes, Valencianos, Andaluces, Navarros etc… Pero Espanoles…

Uhiii como te pone los nervios el perroflauta ehhhh 😛 Es que no solo ha fallado a currarme el tiro, sino que me ha calentado 😉
A que somos otra cosa que tus compas PPeros nosotros los Perroflautas eh ! Anda, pasate al lado oscuro …

La ignorancia se curra con educacion, que dejas de votar a los que la recortan y la venden, te estas disparando a los pies 😉

Un abrazo y te dejo una cancioncita y una citacion de Confucius ( Te la pongo en Inglish para que empiezas a auto-educarte, vale?)

” Virtue can do what laws and police can’t, it’s power is so great that it doesn’t requires the use of physical force ” – Confucius

Vaya Perroflauta este Chino tambien eh !!! Vees que no hay mal rollo, fachito ! 😉


Trailer Year One, Documentary / English

So here I am learning the basics of Video Edition software, It’s taking me time but I am making some progress, I will start to edit the first episode soon 🙂

Soundtrack by Odips ( Thanks Bro’ )

I think I might edit a few details yet but this is nearly the final version of the Opening.
Correction, it will be the English trailer.

I also created a youtube channel for the documentary, so I am moving all videos to this account.


It has been a long time … Part 4

Thanks I still have left the faculty to (sometimes) ask myself the right question, or to have experience to do so for me when I am totally lost.
Today Nelson Mandela died and in some way, the way people perceive him, his path, his message, it gave me faith back in what I could do, that I still could do something, I had a living example who crossed my generation, a master to teach me not to resigned, to tell me not to call myself discouraged, because it was no longer my name.

He is dead and someone must arise to carry what he represent to the living and futures generations, the faith in humanity, the living experience that you and me can do what he did if we decide to do so.
If we lost this experience, we will lost the knowledge that goes with it, the knowledge that one can dedicate his life to stand against the oppressor and be joint by millions, even billions, over the world.
We can not let this knowledge become a urban legend with time, in the context of Capitalism there are millions of opportunities to define ourselves as someone who stand against the one who abuse the weakest..

During our coffee chat, when asking my gran mum what she was thinking about expropriating empty edifices and houses of Banks and full them with homeless people to end having people dying in the streets,
Or making a law to forbid the waste of food from supermarket, to illegalize food dumping ( Which consist in burning stock of food to regulate market prices) in order to provide food freely for the people who needs it,
To nationalize back the energies supplier ( Water, Power company, Petrol) the publics services lost and transport companies, to provide the citizens the service with cost of exploitation in order to alliviate people’s bills to more or less EURO150 / MONTHS ( Water, gasoil, Electricity, transportation) and others similar processes to concretly and efficiently initiate a change in our society by giving houses to the homeless and making our poor fest,
How to change the world with 3 easy law … And make a difference in people life from a day to another …

Surplus tomatoes are dumped on farmland in Tenerife, Canary Islands, Spain. Photograph: Sally A. Morgan/Ecoscene/Corbis

She answeres me “That’s sound simple and great. But we will never see a politician who will offer these options “, on the same way they use to say “they wont be a new Mandela soon”, on the TV news.

But today I’ve realised, I want to be that one that no one expect, I want to carry this image of faith in humanity, I have lost too much time hating myself, such a focus on the self, I have no time anymore to loose on egoism, I had almost surrendered, I saw myself condamned to live in a world that makes me cry every time I think about it, because my heart is not yet big enough to take it …
It needs a break to recover from all these emotions created by our context, it still needs to be purified from time to time, putting me in period of darkness to send all those emotions out of my body through the tears.

Nelson Mandela died today, but he made me a great gift before leaving, I shall not waste it.
He remembered me that one still can make a difference, any one can do it, only a matter of choice, sadly today thousand of Mandela’s shall arise to health this sick world.

It has been a long time … Part 3

Camera 360

I arrive at my tent, it’s all messed up, the solar panel, usb keys, hard drive, SD card, knife, machette, has dissappeared and I can found several papers all around the tent with written over GUARDIA CIVIL and a phone number to call.
It’s around noon, I decide to spend the afternoon there to prepare my stuffs, I am going to leave that place. I feel sad, in one year homeless I never truly felt like home untill I reach that place, I understood earth was my home and they just expropriate me from my place. The whole afternoon in stress of seeing the police coming back. The next morning I’m making my last coffee and starting to unbuild my camp, an helicopter is flying over the montain and hover over my camp for a good 30 secondes, so close that I could see the pilot’s moves inside the cockpit.

Camera 360 Camera 360

I’m thinking that I am paranoid but my heart pulse is rising up, the adrenaline is rushing in my brain, I am now starting to move my stuffs to the closest house of my camp ( A couple who occupies an abandonned house in the montain ) walking trough the nature with my stuffs, I need to do several round trip it will take me 4 hours, in which from time to time the helicopter will come back and hover near my position, wherever I am on the way for a few minutes, sometimes I’m hiding myself in the bush, I m paranoid may be, but I feel something I hate, bad feeling. Right now, I think, Fuck, I am in GTA I can feel my heart rushing and my skin is reflecting my emotions.


I am putting all the boxes in my mate’s cave, a Police SUV arrives and requires me to approach them, I do not want to get out his garden, it’s private property, they have no right to enter and I perfectly knows it. I stay behind the wall which is about one meter sixty tall and they ask me what I am doing here and request my ID for a “routine” check.
I obviously comply, provide them my passport, my NIE number and my adress in Barcelona. After writing everything down, providing the information to the radio, they give me my passport back and wishes me a good day.


My heart is now beating strong against my chest, I m calling a friend who lives the town and ask him if he is free for a coffee, at the only near by coffee, the train station one, I wanna jump in the next train to Madrid and get the fuck out off here as soon as possible.
I meet my friend who tells me he gave up on a project he was working on due to the pression of the local guardia civil, he is a native from this small montain town, ” Los Molinos “, he also take the time to tell me that a friend of him heard the guardia civil asking about a french guy, in the train station coffee.
Exactly where I used to go when wanted to have a coffee or fill  my water bottles when coming back to my place after a stay out. It’s when I tell my friend about the guardia civil ceasing some of my hardware and the Policia Local ID checking me half an hour earlier.

I am moving back to Italy to spend a few days, when I m being aware that the municipal crane took off the Cherokee that was parked (For stay without moving the car) I am so going back to Madrid after a few days, 700 euros later the car is parked at a friend place and I am deciding to go back to “Los Molinos” to recover some of my stuff. Since July I am with my backpack and only summer clothes, winter is coming…

I reach Los Molinos to discover that the cave and the house has been break-in, I recover a Keffieh ( That has an important emotional meaning as it’s a gift from Rachton (A brother of mine) to Kevin (Another bro), who then gifted it to me the day I left my previous lifestyle, a tee shirt and another few clothes. All my boxes of stuffs, tent, hardware left disappeared.
What a nice experience of ” Materialistic condition shall not didacte my disposition ” – Confucius.

Few days left before the 28S, one year celebration of 25S, but for what concerns me, I do not recognize myself in this social movment anymore, it became a media based social group focused on the ” Proceso constituyente ” which I personaly do not define as a priority, I see it as a natural consequence of a revolution not as a way to reach revolution, may be I am wrong and I would be pleased to be shown wrong.
But I have too many ethical conflicts to keep being part of the 25S, Members hiding details to others, manipulation or instrumentalization of informations, emails received not shared to the group, act of assemblies censored, transparency raped etc… I love the people who compose the group, but the group itself as an entity and I must split in our respective experiences to evolve.

correo en pie censored

So I will not be part of the celebration of 25S, instead I am going back to France, in 2 weeks it will be time to harvest grappe in France, and I need to make some money, the Cherokee needs mecanical fixes and I got in debt to get it out the deposit.
Before leaving Madrid I realized that someone had led a campaign against me and my project (Based on a personal conflict, I did not want to fuck with her… literally…), a leader of Barcelona’s group had issues with Police and went to live with her boyfriend to another EU nation, a group leader in Madrid is going to live to another continent, the sky just fallen upon my head.

I am in France, harvesting weed, the day after I ll be on my way to north of France, near Dijon to harvest grappe. I am going with Qwen Tine, there we will be meeting with Manu from the Garance Festival, Chateau the ex (and futur) Qwen Tine’s roomate ( We merely knew each other from Barcelona, we had met once or twice before ) and other friends of them. Another deep and wonderful experience with a (huge) group of people from Poland, Spain, UK, Italy, France, all with their wonderful individual stories and experiences, I am experiencing how true is ” Life is made for travel and encounters ” ,

All those people I met have restored my faith in human, but on the other way, I am realising that not only I have disconnected since month from my spirituality, my lifestyle, the social movments and more importantly my project. I’m realising I am the one I have to blame if today things went the way they are, day after day since july the pleasure I had with the body (Partying, drinking, smoking weed) and those I had with the mind ( Meeting people, disconnecting from my life and forgetting all that goes with it) had eaten me from the inside, it had disconected me from my soul and my true target, the goal I set myself to reach, I feel like I have been working a whole year and I lost it all because I was stupid and selfish.

I hate myself realising this, I knew it, day after day I could feel the feeling increasing, but it was so good that I blinded myself, stupidly, egoistly, I set aside all that I believed in for personal interest, my self pleasure. I have been and am acting like all those politicians I do not grant my respect to and who represent all I stand against. I became what I was fighting against in some way … I am disgusting and disgusted … I am lost, totally lost, I do not know what to do next, my body is starting to reflect the depression suckin up my body energies through my mind, my blood infection is creating skin infections more and more often, the infection getting stronger and stronger, till even some very tiny part of the skin reach necrosis, which requires me to monitor the wound and to abundantely clean it with pure alcohol after removing the dead black necrosed cells. Self medication and field surgery are skills I acquired during my stay in the mountain with the book ” Where there is no doctor “. Truth is, sometimes I enjoy to practice it.

My body is like my mind now, balanced in the worst way. I find sometimes myself crying for being who I am, such vision I had of what I could do versus the failure to reach my principal objectives.

It has been a long time … Part 2

My Gran mum and people on TV agrees on one point, we wont see another Mandela in our present times. In a political system that regulates it’s own cast, in which you can not access highest spheres without compromising your moral or ethical integrity (Not even talking about spiritual dignity), in our democracies so similar to the very first Athenian concept, the freedom for slave owners,
The death of Nelson Mandela is the end of the light his presence between us provided to our collective consciousness.

Not only he died, but a part of our faith in humanity has left us with him. We all claim him as a model, but who act like he did, he spent nearly 25% of his life forced to hard physical work as a retribution for his beliefs, 25% of his life in a cell as a consequence for his fight, I feel so ashamed of myself today…

Because if I didn’t write in this blog since so long, it’s because I nearly surrendered, I felt powerless, discouraged, I felt dying, day after day since the month of July I have been again lying to myself and when I am doing that, not as a punishement but as a natural consequence of it, I am loosing faith in what I am doing, thinking, fighting and standing for, in myself, in life, in men and in God.

It started when I left my camp in the montain to join my brothers in a road trip through Europe. Looking at the social context in Spain, quiet calm due to the summer context, having settled up a few things on my project I decided I could take some time off and went for those wonderfull holidays.
When coming back, I went to spend time with my baby in Italy, I went to see her and took the opportunity to set up a part of my project in Italy where I met several people of social movments in Firenze. I there had a great time and met wonderfull people, it was like it happened in Paris, meeting new people and spending a few days to get to know them, such a wonderfull experience. After those few days I went back to see my baby again, and decided to move back to Madrid.

On my way to Madrid, I stop by Barcelona and spend a day as the buses are full to go to Madrid. Qwen tine, one of my Barcelona’s brothers and Durdoss a friend of friends that I am having a lot of fun with are planning to go to the Garance festival in France.

They are going there 4 people and offer me to go with them. The buses being full for the day after too, I m taking to opportunity to go with them , just for the ride to France, the festival is 45min away from my mum’s place and it has been a long time I did not see her.


So here I am, in the car with them, a friend of Qwen tine, Manu is meeting us there, we are in the car with two girls that I do not know, Olivia a nice and funny french girl and a nice Spanish girl ( That I shamefully can’t remember the name right now ),
We on the road with all the experience that goes with such has sleeping on the beach the first night, getting the car emptied of (almost) all the weed and hash by the cops on a checkpoint before we even cross the French border etc … Things will turn in a way in which I will have a free pass to get into the festival ( A staff teeshirt ) and will spend 3 days and 3 night meeting and getting to know new people, such an amazing and addictive experience… When saying good bye to each other, we deal with Qwen Tine and Manu that we will see each other in France for the grappe harvest in October.

The summer goes fast, I am staying a few weeks in France at my Brothers, a few days with my Mum, then going to see my Daughter again, I’m seeing her a lot recentely, I love it, I love it …
Then finally back to madrid.

It has been a long time … Part 1

Nelson Mandela died tonight, Nelson Mandela died tonight …
It’s not like I knew him or even had an interaction with him at all, but his death creates in my present reality the experience of grief… Not only he was a role model, a master to me,  but he also incarnated the faith I had in human beings.

I went to take a coffee at my Gran mum’s today, the TV news was covering the topic, we could see all those politicians such as Obama, Hollande, Sarkozy, The Dalai Lama and nearly any opportunist with a TV camera at hand making a declaration, saying in an (so) hypocrite way how sad they were, how a good model Mandela was for the humanity and all sort of bullshit they will repeat all day long.

I’m looking at them, with profund disrespect, I’m shared between the feeling of having a tear and throwing up the 2 coffees I had this morning,
They all are (with no dignity) licking Mandela’s dead ass when most of them would have jailed him in under their respective governments.
I agree with my gran mum when saying that our jails in the world are full of Mandela’s.
In this very moment I’m thinking about Alberto… Hold on, be strong bro, God isn’t making a day in which I don’t think about you.

We (Gran mum and I) then talk about those politicians, Goldman Sachs, the finance, we having an eye at the real time debt of France ( ), how Bankers control the world from economics to medias and politics,  we speak about the famillies struggling with starvation, peoples in our streets dying because of coldness, the empty buildings they shown on TV the day before in the center of Paris, we spoke about the educationnal gap between rich and middle / poor  social classe’s and finally about elections and presidential previous or future candidates …
How lost is our society … Then we speak about the vote,

I am making my point by telling my Gran mum that if I do not vote and do not plan to, it is because 1) No one represent my ideas or ideals and 2) The white vote is not calculated and so, valueless 3) No one of them deserve my vote, it sounds to me like an insult to my democrates and republican ancestors to use my right of vote for any of the actual potential candidates to presidential’s elections.

So If I have to choose to eat between:
1) The shit of a guy who had strawberry’s during his last meal (Let’s say the Left Candidate)
2) The shit of a guy who had cherry during his (Let’s say the Right Candidate), I prefer to fast, to me sounds like the right choice.

Now if you ask me what if there is a situation like 1995 in which the extrem-right reach second round of election, then the choice it made easy ( has the extrem-right Candidate surely had the shit of the Right Candidate during his last meal ) , I am going to eat strawberry’s or cherry’s shit, but no way that I eat shit that has already been eaten, digested and re-shitted (This is what Extrem right usually does, it recycle the shit of the Right party to make it theirs, less consistent and more smelly).
It’s disgusting, I know, but I think that goes well when reffering to Politics and what comes out of their minds and mouth.

Moralité: Ne jamais bouffer le cul d’un politicien.