Fear and Rome in De Efe
*Shot around 10 AM on a Saturday morning loaded af after blowing a couple of g’s with my homeboy 602 throughout the night before. The most recent episode of my love life had me stranded so deep that I had no other choice but to wash away all pain with mezcal, weed and coke. Compa Luke had joined us right after dawn crashing my place with a flaky eight ball that drove us to spend the day wilding out in one of Mexico most famous tourist attraction ever, the “trajineras” of Xochimilco’s canal.
By that time the flowers of working for a media company had finally blossomed allowing weekly leisure moments to blow some steam off without hurting anyone. Existentialism was not the subject of that day, tho’. The real first heart break had finally happened the night before. You know, the one that actually hurts when it rips away the innocence of choosing to trust without a safety net behind? The first rupture that crushes the veil of love fronting interest and status as the relationship true purpose. Which kindda’ sucks but happens a lot all around anyways. Specially in the big city where the need to weight a person against the other’s convenience is practiced as regular as a lunch served daily with a fresh sip of self hate and the proper vices to mellow yourself.
Read the full magazine article and follow the link to find out more about Baby Jesus lit parties: Ninopa
One of many early adventures with my blood Toni happened during a rainy Wednesday of March close to election day, during a period of Mexico where the final remains of old head politicians still ruled over a country six years deep into a bloody war against narco.
Keep in mind that no more than ten years ago it was kind of crazy to go out as a regular citizen and protest over the streets of the city. Government’s own paid rioters always had their way teasing and consequently crashing with the police, bringing down any credibility left for the real meaning of the protest. Disguised as anarchists or the Black bloc they would later reach their highest point by setting on fire the city’s Christmas tree while streamed live on national television, consequently unleashing a massive brawl that thrashed a whole strip in Downtown’s historical district.
Yet shit was really hitting the fan and many Mexicans didn’t even fantasized we had such issues. The general street and media feeling about this particular march was against it, but reality came a little more harsh. That evening itself more than 40,000 gathered not to protest but to beg for food, water and labor justice.
The necessities of mayor monetary interests where closing hard on the least favored. Miners, labor farmers and union workers marched along laid off airplane pilots and executives that demanded solutions from the State institutions. The very few social media influencers able to amplify the message relied solely in a 140 character, multimedia-less Twitter, while none mainstream reporters were called for coverage.
If you ever remember Sitting at your right feels like jazz seen through the eyes of a cat plotting laughter next to you I dream Chinese cobra
In a more personal level acid and street skate were the move all right. The influence of Gonzo journalism at work plus an environment willing to experience life at its many simultaneous dimension allowed myself in different states of truth during particular situations. It didn’t matter if a new digital campaign at work needed to be developed or if the gig was overcrowded with sweaty ska fans yelling gibberish at each other, Mexico City and its social game needed to be understood and mastered. And if that little piece of paper was able to help me process data at a higher speed, I was in.
Los Master Plus, Cholula, Mexico 2012
Young Cannibals, Cholula, Mexico 2012
There was another time when I joined Toni for a short trip to Cholula, following her all around during a music festival, taking pictures of her fans while she shot some photos of the bands playing live. Hated Flavor Flav being the closing act for that show because I was tripping so hard that I thought it wasn’t him on stage cause he looked way more healthy than how he apeared in his reality show.
Lol.
Still I enjoyed it pretty much. The smoking active volcano in the horizon was deadly beautiful to look at, plus the event was held on the grounds of an old pyramid hidden underneath a Colonial building once used as a nut house (scroll up to the image above me dropping a tab).
Maachina, Tijuana. 2012
*Funny how I actually had to run away from the city for a few of days in order to clear my mind and leave all the love bs behind.
*But ultimately traveled back only to find myself refusing to face the fact that I had been dumped by avidly spending between 10 to 14 hours a day at work avoiding reality.
