All seemed lost,my funds were dangerously low and did not seem enough to afford a new plane ticket, sooner than later the destruction of my living quarters would become known and bring the furies at my doorstep and none of my close friends had enough space nor lived far away enough as to provide at least temporary shelter to myself and my not by any means small pet…

What could a man in such a position possibly do in order to defy the fates?

Suddenly remember that his neighbors,a couple whom he had only met two weeks before worked in the air plane ticket sale industry for starters,followed by suddenly regret not having asked them about the best possible travel arrangements in the first place(fist-striking oneself in the testicles as males of informal american English slang slinging would aptly sum it)

My life experience had taught me to not put much faith into hopes and desired outcomes yet on this occasion at least,I was proven wrong,quite spectacularly so.
Not only were they able to contact the actual company that had booked my flight to grant me a new date but they were able to get me a discount that could be paid with the remainder of my funds and help me out for the elusive return ticket that had nullified my previous attempt to abandon by air the Austral shores of the river plate.

After two days of being a virtually invisible inhabitant of the city and what seemed to have been an eternity of doubt and fearful expectation at the checkout line,much to my disbelief,I found myself soaring among sylphides and birds, navigating through castles and mountains of condensed water aboard an air vessel bound to the territories of the Hispania.
A new world of possibilities awaited me,ironically enough,in the heart of the old one…

I had my plane ticket and I had my dog’s papers,I had the money to sustain myself for a limited amount of time but still had something.
What was left to do for me then,other than engage in a ritual destruction of my nest in order to face the challenge of embracing this new phase and entering the next chapter of my story in a grand way? 

An awful amount of  details,the type of details that make a building fall down on it’s own space before the forces of nature decide to punish the daring efforts of mortal men.
There are some situations in life that cannot be taken arithmetically and that apparently need to follow a differing set of mathematical patterns,some broaden the concept and dub it common sense,others reduce it to being more careful.
Regardless my elected pattern was perhaps not the best of available choices,though most certainly one of the funniest in it’s sad outcome.

My trip to the airport had been secured after much trouble and delays at a steep monetary cost,so I thought all was set and provided.I finally proceeded to destroy my living space and secure my dog in his travelling cage,an arrangement dear Flint was certainly not very happy with.
Many false hopes and miles later I was at the check-in line of the infamous Ezeiza Airport, carrying more plans and ideas in my head than a slothful dreaming god. These were shattered ,pulverized and scattered when the man checking my papers pointed out I had no return ticket and therefore could not board the plane for policy reasons.
Apparently airline regulations and a strange kind of near mythical caste of unseen beings who handle things such as international legislation codes seem to frown on the idea of people following basic animalistic migrational insticts without displaying insultive amounts of wealth to their names.

I found myself quite confused en route to the smoldering remains of what had been my shelter for the last two years,trying to make sense of a situation that to my eyes discarded logic the way the way careless smokers part with the consumed shells that contained the essence of their vice.

I’ve often attempted to deny a peculiar trait of my genetic baggage ,that is,an irrational and constant desire to simply deny the forces of what is collectively dubbed as reality.

Such impulses however,proved to be quite helpful to my quest,at least in order to compensate for a complete lack of chess minded attention to the little moves that define victory in a game

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…

Asatru Rune Hobo

theswingingsixties:

Jim Morrison

theswingingsixties:

Psychedelic mod fashion for Seventeen magazine, 1960s.