I’ve got a couple of names,many more due to misspellings and a few nicknames accumulated and forged throughout the years and adventures of what can more or less be described as the story of my life.
But those stories shall remain unweaved and hidden,at least for now,in the twisted odd shadowful angles of my shattered mind.
The tale I am about to weave to you starts in that most precious and unsymmetrical city that in both its magnificent decadence and it’s decaying glory shall never abandon my thoughts,the shining jewel of the river plate,the Paris of South America and my only Tanelorn: Buenos Aires.
Several difficulties of both economical and personal classification had become harrowing enough to make me consider and finally execute a long postponed dream of launching into the great unknown that is travelling the world,much like a silly boy which I had long ceased to be or a certain fictional castillan of ancient and well deserved fame. And on that last note,decided that my next objective would be the fabled and ancestral iberic peninsula (I was also still much overcome by fear of instability and the fact of having some lost kin in the area did play a part in such a decision of course)
As with any task worth undertaking,several obstacles arose:
What would I do with my priced cellulose archive,my dust collecting toy collection (mementos of a more childish and not necessarily happier time),and most importantly the better half of my already fragmented self,my true and most beloved companion and pet: Flint (you know,that black and white pitbull that is overtly present in most of my work?).
The solution turned out to be really simple actually.
I contacted former friends who handled dog and dog transport regularly and found out that the costs and paperwork (with their assistance of course) -in spite of the red tape policies that Argentinian is known for- weren’t too high and actually achievable.
The next step consisted in pawning, distributing and getting rid of my excess possessions.
It was funny how suddenly the toys had cradled as dear reminders of childhood suddenly became mere pieces of plastic I could turn into money,and how the tomes that I so painfully parted with could only be seen as dead weight.
Regardless,I was able to gather the money and purchase mine and the dogs ticket to ultramar!
Of course,as the goddess Fortuna and the Norns do often like to play with my fate,things would not go down smoothly…