Son Policias secretas de los mossos d’esquadra ! Fijate de la camiseta Adidas y Ramones en el video siguiente:
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.
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.
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.
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 ( http://www.oxoty.com ), 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.
My crazy Borthers have invited me to join them to a Road trip, how could I refuse !
They even let me use some of their clothes, to disguise as a citizen 😛 This is why you will see me in colors ! 😛
So I started from Madrid (Spain) and went by Barcelona (Spain) to my Brother’s place in Montelimar (France) we then took the car and drove to Brussels (Belgium) then Amsterdam (Holland), Berlin (Germany), Zgorzeleck (Poland), Pragua (Tcheque republic) and Dachau (Germany). After the trip I went to see my Baby girl in Torino (Italy) and actually I’m in Firenze (Italy), I m going back to Torino, then back to Barcelona and finally going back into my mountain. All this in 15 days. Was intensive but so good !
I’ll put the pictures on different posts, we made over a thousand and half pictures, it will take me for ever to sort them out 😛
Clip is nice, Lyrics are real. When revolution inspires art.
Il n'y aura pas de barrage !
Porque los DD. HH. están por encima de lazos sanguíneos, étnicos, religiosos, etc. Fundado el 8 de febrero de 2013.
A Sustainability Studies Project at Roosevelt University
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Tenemos un sistema que nos persuade a gastar lo que no tenemos en cosas que no necesitamos para impresionar a gente que no nos importa. #Abrelosojos #Eshoradedespertar #Atacabos #Siguelosnombres #Siguealdinero #StopNWO #StopBilderberg #StopMonsanto #R-Evolution Solo los peces muertos siguen la corriente del río.
Pour une lutte radicale contre le projet d'aéroport! Terre et liberté!
Pan, trabajo y techo.
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