THE BEGINNING

In the beginning I wanted to be an astronaut, then a supersonic pilot,  then a guitar player, and finally a writer. But I didn’t like Classics. When I was nineteen I saw myself writing my experiences after coming from a legendary trip around the world. Being a lad who never thought twice his next move, I waved bye-bye to my parents, got me a blanket, took my guitar and  began to work out my future, some thirty years ago.

Now that the trip is over and got me the material for the book, I see the changes the world has been through and it’s quite amazing to see how I have made it. Paranoia about a cataclysmic end of the world has been always there since I was a kid. You know, there is not two without three. Third World War was to happen somewhere along the line. Myself I didn’t give a dime about it. I knew that God would never allow His Creation to be destroyed, nor by an alien super-demon, nor by an earthling superhero. The “Dance around the golden calf” is simply disgusting. As a matter of fact  this point of view of mine got me very much apart from the people around me. I may go with you in your trip to hell, but I always will be a visitor, while you’re not coming out.  It is not a question of being a survivor. Surviving is for animals. I am not an animal, I am and I always will be a son of God.

One time in Nashville, where I ended up coming from Seattle, one of those occasional street preachers sat by me and began to speak about rebirth and all that crap. Not that to be born again is a crap, it becomes a crap when it is used to manipulate a man’s heart, and though the guy did not mean it, it kicked my nerves so hard that I could not help ask him to leave me alone. He wouldn’t, so I spoke plainly to him. “Man, to get up you got to fall, but it happens that I never did, to fall, so I don’t have to get up, I am always on my feet. You left your father’s home; I have been always in my Father’s love. Do you get it? I don’t need to be born again, I am a son of God, always was and always be. So please, don’t try to convert God to your Religion”. Americans have a wonderful heart, but no good in their heads. Anyway, got me a plane back West, and believe it or not, am missing Highway Ten.

Europe was and is home. I like to be here. Not that I love very much Germany’s winter cold. After all I was born and bred in the South. Britons and the North men call us PIGS. The Britons I know them well. The North men less, but the Summer heat in the Land of the Midnight Sun is worth anything. And the Land of the Thousand Lakes? I tell you what, people got used to relate the Vikings with the Swedish, Norwegians and Danish, myself I think the Finish are more likely to be the original fathers of the Northmen.

The Land of the Thousand Lakes, road to Rovaniemi. 24 hours daylight and the most funny people ready to pick you up and give you a ride. They have only three months to walk beneath the sun, then darkness comes, the streets get lonely, the cities empty, silence is all over. But those months, man, they get crazy, they become suns themselves, there is nothing like that look in their eyes and the way they look everything. Heavy drinkers, though. Alcohol is the Northman disease. However, nobody is perfect. But me. Jejejeje.

Round the corner soon Sarkozy to leave sweet Champs Elysées. I had a girlfriend in Paris who whispered in my ears the secret of a sometime before President of the Republic. They called him “Monsieur three minutes”; still, so she said, that was too long.

Politic and Sex, yes, but once in Power :  Sex is no more; the real darling of Monsieur is Money. What a world!

Kind of world, isn’t it? The longer you live, the stronger the laughter. Even when stabbed to the heart the soul can’t stop laughing. The first cut is the deepest? We shouldn’t pay attentions to singers. The firs cut, like the first love, is the sweetest. The last it is the deepest. Singers’ no good wisdom, they had their eyes in somebody else’s pocket.

Where have we ours, anyway? We all want everything and all is few men’s everything. To speak the truth, why use violence and rage when you can get what you want playing the game of love? There is no Cross written with our names on, nor a writing in the wall calling us to be the victims of the next coup d’état. These next decades coming they bring with them better visions and greater scenarios. If your visions of the future of your children are gloomy, forget it. In the beginning was the terrible vision of the bloody persecution of the Christians the show for the entire universe to swallow and taste the bitter medicine of Doctor Hell. In the end of times the glory of the sweetest of the gods’ honey is to be served on the table of men. So cheer up, no matter the dark horizons sieging our children’s future, we will conquer. Remember the Episode of the Water turned into Wine?

How so, you keep the best wine for the end?

Yes, so what? Don’t get drunk from the start.

However, there is only one door to this world, am I right?

DIARY OF A SON OF GOD A.D. 2012