My journey start here: Nowhere 1

Was more than two years ago when I decided to start my Astanga journey.

Yoga wasn’t much my thing,I was more a kind of “concrete” girl,never believed in spirituality,I’ve always considered myself very much as an atheist but somehow,one day I was in front of this place called “shala”.

I had no idea of what was in front of me neither I had idea of what to expect out of it.

For me Yoga was very much a physical activity,the reason why I got into it on the first place was because I had this friend,Sofia,she kind of got me into it by presenting it as not the typical yoga you would expect.She sold it to me as it was something really challenging and calorie consuming as I liked to see it at the time.I decided to give it a go and went with her at one of this astanga level 1 classes held in triyoga,a nice space hidden in the earth of Carnaby street.I was ready to show off my strength and my flexibility gained through a couple of years of proud running and stretching every now and then,however I had no Idea it was going to be so hard.By the end of the classe I was knackered,soaking wet from head to toe and I hadn’t even been able to do half of the posture/exercise shown in there,I had no breath,I was physically devastated.What the hell was that?I immediately though while I was trying to change my t shirt hiding my body in the toilet  while all the woman around me,Sofia included,were openly getting naked talking to each other in the changing room.

Sofia wasn’t so happy about the class,she claimed that it wasn’t as she used to experience it  in her home town,she didn’t feel the spiritual connection.I push her to came back,same hour next week,I didn’t care about all that spiritual shit she was mourning about,I liked the workout,I was sure that something like that would have enabled me to get an amazing skinny body,that along with a good restricted nutrition plan. Everything under control.

The morning after I was in pain,pain in muscles I din’t even knew I had,I could barely walk up the stairs in the shop where I was working,it was nightmare.My friend was smiling at me while she was cuddling her crystal that for the first time she brought up at work. I though she was a little bit too much however I was curious.The week after we went back there and so again we went for almost a month.After that I couldn’t bare any more to listening to her talking about this “mysore style”,the kind of yoga that she used to do in her home-town something more personal,the sort of stuff that would enable you to make a connection within your inner self…whatever that is supposed to mean.

Whatever,I said,let’s check it out!

I remember sending a message to this yoga teacher called Hamish,something like “hey I’ve been doing astanga for a month and I would like to try your class but I was wondering if you had any showers…” and I also remember his very straight answer “no,no shower!”. I didn’t like him and because of that and because of the fact that the price for this “Mysore style” was really expensive I dropped the idea of getting involved with it and I went back to running.My friend in the meanwhile dropped the idea as well.We were working together and we didn’t really have much money to spend for ourselves and also was just our first year in London and much needed to be settled .

After those last attempt into the yoga world I started to feel some changes.

I started to read about spirituality,and I started to develop a faith in the universe.Dropped the anti conceptional patch,started to get rid naturally of the terrible migraines that I used to suffer and generally speaking started to wanting more love for myself into my life.

I was living with my boyfriend at the time,he used to smoke so much pot that most of the times I could barely breath into our crazy messy room. I started to hate to come back home with the nightmare of having stranger crawling around and the idea of finding him barely talking,lost is some mystery world made of junk food and dirty clothes.

Was long till I started to suffer terrible muscles spasm on my legs, I couldn’t stand in the shop floor at work, I was feeling sad and angry  and lost.

I acted in the best way I could to hurt him as much as I was feeling hurt. I did my best to kick him out the house.Found a new place for me and left.

I created suffering by not taking responsibility of my actions, I acted with Ego and I’ve steal other people light  by trying to shine myself and trying not to feel how I was really feeling:lonely,abandoned,disillusioned.

I tried to keep and harem of people that loves me around me and I failed.

Didn’t take me much before discovering that nobody was my friend and nobody want it to be around that selfish bitch that I was and I’ve used to be so proud of.

I was experiencing anxiety,I had difficulty to breath properly a kind of feeling of being strangled all day long.

I’ve just became the manager of the shop where I was working at,I was living in a nice flat with a cool beautiful girl  called Juliette. I had everything I’ve planned to have apart from air flowing into my lungs.

I was breathless. That’s why that day I’ve walked  into this tiny sweaty place.

Was 7 am,dark outside and just a little yellowish light inside. I introduced myself to the teacher Hamish,he wasn’t as I expected to be: indian(first of all), super handsome, cool.He was just a normal man wearing some ridiculous flowery pants and standing on the door  between the two rooms like a pink flamingo.

He didn’t say much,he gave me some posture,the 2 sun salutiations and the final lotus position witch I proudly performed in front of him,that’s it. 25 min for 13 pounds. I thought was a bit too much but however the room,packed with people,the sweet and warm smell in the air…the not so much spiritual fuss around kind of stuck me.

That day I’ve started my yoga journey,what I would like to share in this almost familiar space that have been on my back for the last year without being into my life actively.Now is the time that I would like to tell you a little bit more about myself,truly.


Thrown into the world while dragged down by a DMT inhalation

A flourishing magnolia tree, a sign of new beginning.

I always loved those tree with those flowers shaped like clumsy princess, I never knew the name somehow till the day that I’ve cut and felt one of their flower and I brought it to Satirka in one of our spelled afternoon talking and smoking in his room.

I remember handing the flower to him and seeing his eyes shine brightly as he recognized the flower,his favourite one and he told me his name for the first time. I’ve always tought that Magnolia flowers were white and big, but I was wrong. As I was handing him the flower as I was handing him myself.

My life was changing and he was behind me silently, following my baby step into the world.

We were about to move house, to change  job, a new beginning was in the sky.

I was feeling more peaceful although the things between me and M were starting to lose their grace.

When one of our beloved Ketch supplier offer us a room in the house he was renting, M was over excited as he saw in him the model he wish to follow, the one that as gone far with his dealing market, a cool dude. I wasnt so keen in moving there,all my sense were turning against that but I decide to ignore them as I didn’t have any other choice and I couldn’t really be bothered to look for anything else; beside the guy seemed really cool, and the flatmates seemed cool too, looked like a house full of artists and music in a cool east londonish location everything seemed so fashion polished, I didn’t really want to miss the chance to meet someone in either the fashion or the music industry that could have given some appreciation for my artworks or my styling aims. I was still that girl who loved the polished well ensemble surface.

Satirka didn’t commented on our decision, he never did commented on anything, He offered us a place in a nearby squat or as well in one of his friend flat,when we told him we were looking for a place to stay,but I didn’t want to get involved too much with all that squatting shit,probably I wasn’t ready yet,still pretty anchored to my belief and sometimes I liked to listen just to the parts that I liked In what he was saying to me. Very typical of me to ignore the truth.

One day however,just before taking off into our newly shaped life, Satirka called us up to visit him into his new squat.

The squat was still in Battersea, a couple of minutes away from his stable squatted house.

The area around it was crammed with peace,a beautiful residential area that all was reminding me was that song by Nick Cave that has called me there, It was like I was walking the way that my favourite singer had walked before while writing most of the songs in the album “no more shall we part”. Somehow I was dreaming of being in a magic place of inspiration and changes.

We walked without getting lost, cleverly guided by an earthy Luca willing to discover with us his new space,craving for something special.

A little door hidden in a clearly posh neighbourhood was the key for our dreams.

Satirka came to open us when we called him on his selfphone.

A narrow rough courtyard was leading to a beautiful mansion. We were impressed by the majesty of the abandoned place.

I was Happy, just happy to be there, to be with him discovering the place.

The guys sat in the living room with Satirka girlfriend, a beautiful brazilian lady that I was admiring and a funny portuguese guy that he rescued from a life of emptiness.

His spiritual twin and misterious fool  Leo, was there too, looking at us smiling once we walked trough the door wrapped up in our “mystic protection” clothes.

Satirka took me to take a tour of the house, I was alive next to him. I couldn’t really translate or express with words my admiration for his freedom.

He showed me what he would have liked to transform in an art studio, He told me he would have liked to start painting and I was painting myself I told him that I would have very much liked to teach him. He looked at me and I felt like I’ve stepped to far in showing him my interest. I felt his eye digging deep inside me, he told me that we could have done that. We made  a contact that day, we made a promise to each other in that particular moment. I still remember the awkward silence that followed that instant of truth, we got lost into each others eyes cutting time and space in the light that was passing trough a beautiful window decorated by a coloured mosaic glass. I knew there I need it to give him something, I felt his interested upon me. I turn my eyes down and I went back to the room were everyone was sort of waiting for us to come back.

Once we entered the room the conversation stopped and Satirka enlightened the purpose of our meeting in that house.

Leo had some DMT with himself and Satirka was offering us to smoke it.

I didn’t wan to do any drugs and I had no idea of what that shit was, I was quite disappointed that the aim of our encounter was to get wasted in  the afternoon instead of just enjoying each other company while talking of some random shit, I should have expected that it was going to end up like that in the end he was a pusher, and of course he had no purpose whatsoever in his life that wasn’t get wasted and make business out of it …right?

My beliefs were screaming out of me and I was forcing myself to swallow each one of them one after the other.

“Look around..”,I was repeating to myself : “… look at this people, the way they smile, the way they take the life easily, the way they can just be…Look a this place, the beauty of the veranda were a grape tree as found a way in and is growing attached to the ceiling. look at the light penetrating from a wild beautiful garden were an unknown flourishing tree is spreading his branches all over the house,why can’t you just enjoy the moment without thinking about the after?Why can’t you just be here and now and trust this person that is perhaps handing you the key for something greater and however can help you if things get terribly wrong too?”

My head was an ocean of thoughts about many things all together. Satirka didn’t want to push me anything I didn’t want to , however he explained me the way the drug would have act inside my body, he told me there wouldn’t have been any withdraw symptoms, I would have been fine, back to my reality in more or less 20 mins after the inhalation and the immediate hallucinogen effect.

I sat and watch Luca and M taking it and then surprising myself I decide to do it as well.

I sat down in the middle of the garden, in the abandoned wilderness in front of it.

Leo came and guided me on what to do,how to breathe, he prepared myself softly helping me with the inhalation and then letting me go down with my eyes closed.

The effect was immediate, violent.

An explosion of coloured spirals swirling in front of me and the sensation of not being able to breathe arising, the fear a deep anxiety a feeling of loosing myself completely and then the hands of someone, calling me, a person with blue eyes was calling me, It was like this person was inviting me into his boat. I was so scared that I opened my eyes by that point, trying to repeat myself that it was going to end soon, that It wasn’t real, thinking about M, crying for him, trying to shout but without being able to do so. I remember seeing the nature overwhelming me once I’ve opened my eyes, the branches of the tree were trying to grab me and dragging me down. Scattered with fear I managed to run away as soon as I was able to recognize the shape of the world around me. I ran into M arms crying,hiding my head into his warmth.

Satirka was watching me and he was asking me to describe my experience, I was feeling hurt by him, I was feeling like I hated him for what he had done to me. He firmly told me that I need it to face that, need it to interpretate what I’ve seen.

I need it to leave that place, I need it to go home and that is what we did.We left everyone and went home and I was feeling like I had unlock a monster inside me and now I need it to face it.

What the hell was all of that about? What had happened to me that day?

The morning after was different.

The book wasn’t anymore just a reading for me but was instead the framework of my path.

I was feeling in pieces inside, shook off of everything I had.

What to do,where to go,everything was trembling again.

We were about to a new beginning, I had a new job due to start and a new house to live in and I didn’t know who I was.

I was thrown into the world. Fuck.


Wanderer above the Sea of Fog

There I was

Finally I walked thought his door,I was in his room now.

First I’ve looked around,the space was foggy from the ash and incense smoke mixture,the smell was sweet and nutty a spellbinding mixture was overwhelming my senses.The space was softly lighted from a couple of windows kept safely covered.The bed was just in front of the door facing north,on the right hand side there was him,he was sat on a big rolling chair at the centre of an U-shaped very long desk. The music was an interesting surround coming from every corner of the room.Before I could finish to analyze the space he stood up and introduced himself to me.

He was smaller than what I thought,he came towards me and he gave me his hand introducing himself as Satirka,immediately I couldn’t resist to provoke him asking indeed what was his real name, he said that was his real name and he didn’t have any other. His name swirl in me like the smell of a freshly baked cinnamon roll,and while he was introducing himself shaking my hand he did something no one ever did before; he looked at me in the eyes and I did the same, getting lost in the most beautiful ocean I ever seen since then. His eyes were deep blue and they where shining of a deep-rooted light, a captivating movement of his soul was now bonding me to his depth.

I sat down on the couch,kept on looking around for a bit.

The wall behind me was covered by a big indian shrug representing a big tree, on a branch of this big tree there was a little bird; the bird wasn’t part of the shrug, was instead added later to it by stitching it to the surface, around the tree the images of inspirational paintings, there was the “Madonna” by Munch on the left of the tree, next to it there was the “persistence of memory” by Dali and under those two painting there was a poem “if” by Rudyard Kipling; on the right side instead the image of the painting “wanderer above the sea of fog” by Friedrich was standing proudly alone. Utterly intrigued by his inspirational adornments of the space I could not wonder around the room anymore as I was captivated by his questioning eyes. He was looking deeply at me, an his look was so open and honest that I couldn’t not being myself  in front of him. Before I knew it, I was talking and I wasn’t acting so much. My protection walls were defeated in front of him, I was well open to listen, open to receive. All the sudden I felt like a different person, I felt like I was opening to the world, free to be in front of him; safe to be. I also felt embarrassed for what I was wearing as I didn’t need to show off in front of him, I didn’t need to catch his attention with revealing clothes as I had his attention on myself already,his attention on what I had to say.

I still remember the feelings of that day like I am living it again now. My whole world of belief  was shaken away that day.

He was so kind and free, he had no bad words in his speak, no signs of hate or bad thoughts in his behaviour.He was crystal clear but he was also very secretive about his being. He was open to receive,open to give but he wasn’t somehow ready to tell his story, and he didn’t really have to, the less we knew about him the more we were open to receive his teaching.

He was my teacher but I hadn’t realize that yet, I didn’t know what was the meaning of having a teacher.I didn’t even know what was the purpose of doing so. He just presented himself as the simplest being I’ve ever met and he gave me a book to slowly getting me to understand the purpose of all of that, the purpose of feelings, of life energies and interactions within the souls around us. I had no clue about all that stuff at the time, I was just messing around trying to resolve that knot  that I was keeping safe inside me.

The first book he gave me was “azzurri incantesimi and magie rosa” something that in english sound like “blue spells and white magic” by Paolo Oddenino Paris, the book was the only thing that was linking him to his origins, as he explain us he had attended the school of the author in Italy.

We left that the sun was coming down to the city that day, before I had even realized we spent hours and hours talking into that clouded space.

On our way home tears were dropping down my eyes, soft lines of water,powerful soul cleanser. M was happy seeing me inspired by this meeting, I was telling him all about my feelings, all about my world belief falling into pieces. I felt peace inside, the void crying less loudly, getting filled up by that incredible encounter.

I loved the sun coming down the city, I loved soaking into the orangey fleshed sunrays.

We got home and all around me had a different shape, had a different interaction with me. Was like I could feel the objects living around me, I could feel myself interacting actively with the world.Almost like being on acid but indeed I’ve never been so lucid before. I was IN THE PICTURE, IN THE WORLD.

Satirka…his name was like a poem into my ears shivering down slowly till the bottom of my grounded body.

I started reading the book the morning after on my way to work.

The book was claiming for you to analyze your life in baby step thought analyzing your feelings related to your actions;  what was making you miserable, what was not making you able to smile. Smiling and thinking positive was the first step for healing your soul,stop complain but instead acting for changing what you didn’t like about your life, baby step for making your life and the life of others better.The interactions with others was underlined in the first chapters of the book.We are a community and because of that we need to act kindly within each other, that was important to make the world a better place for everyone.Acting with love no matter what.Love was the answer. I’ve never though like that before and was difficult for me to believe in it; in energies related to our acts in the world, interactions within other beings… Was really difficult not to thing negatively, not to think about the dark side of something positive, to think about the price to pay etc…But I was trying, baby steps, changing my life slowly, patience was all I need it, but gosh if it was difficult to be patience!

First thing I did that day was quitting my job,ending my misery because that was how I was feeling in regard of that job, so I decide not to complain any longer making the life of the people surrounding me miserable as well.

First step for liberation.

Second step was giving the notice for leaving the house.

Driving my life toward a goal made of love and things that were fulfilling my soul was my mission.

I still didn’t know where I was going but one thing I was sure of, as the book was saying :”the warrior know when the teacher present himself into his life, the teacher won’t call himself a teacher instead will look as a simple man to his disciple, the true warrior will not ask instead will follow his teaching without questioning his knowledge. The teacher come in the life of the warrior at the right time for him to become a disciple”;Satirka was my teacher and I was motivated to listen  and apply his teaching into my life.


Jumping down the cliff

The days were passing by.

I was waking up every morning, looking outside my window,listening to the birds sing freely and I was dreaming my way out of this world, out of reality.

M was sleeping till late;I’ve always been an early person.I liked the silence of the house still asleep. I like the wonder of the fresh morning. Every breath was precious in the tenderness of the early hours.Sometimes I was going for a run, head in the clouds, lost in my music in my space.

The emptiness was still spacing out in my belly, that cringed painful internal torsion that I couldn’t address to any particular reason. That short breathed feeling was with me everyday.

We were running out of money, our latest “job’s shift” weren’t gone really well, indeed they were a disaster. We almost got caught twice, kicked out of few clubs, robbed by new local supplieRd. I didn’t want that life anymore. I was sick of lying to my mother, to his parents, to our flatmates to whom we were horrible, fighting on a daily basis, talking shit about each other a lot. That wasn’t the life I’d come here for at all. Our love story started to leak from each side, and I had no idea of how I could have repaired it and as well he wasn’t showing any whish to change his behaviour.

I got myself a job, a way to stay out of the house as long as possible, waitress again in a filthy bar in one of the poshest area in town.

He went to a rave party instead.

The last time I saw him that night was when he came home on acid before the party,with his friend Luca.

Luca was different from all the others, he was sweet, he was kind, he was the only one that in all of that came to me to ask me  how I was doing, he was interested in me as a person. Luca was gentle, a real friend,not just a guy to smoke with.I immediately liked him, although that night he was  a bit out of the ordinary I saw in him something different,perhaps a different approach to the drugs world;something more similar to my view. Somehow it was ok to the idea that he was gong out with him, I knew he was going to be safe, he would have looked after him.

Was the first time that M was going partying alone since we came to London, I usually used to go with him, this time I let him go. I wasn’t  jealous or anything likely. I was just worry he wasn’t going to come back the same and I wasn’t going to be with him to understand his way of seeing the world in that particular moment,to guide him to a safe place.I believe that was my role in all of that.

When he left that night I was in bed already. I wasn’t feeling good, I was feeling out of control, I drank some beers alone, I was feeling drunk,I had eaten too much over the arising nerves that I was trying to cover up.I just wished to be the next day.

I thought they were going to a club as I would have never approved the idea of him going to a rave,especially without me.

When I woke up to go to work the morning after,he wasn’t back yet. No messages, no signs that he was still alive or at least that he was still in his body.

Was 9 am when I decide to call him. Where the fuck was him?

He picked up the phone and it was chaos. The music was loud, the reception was bad.

He told me they went to a rave along the canal. I was disgusted.

Rave were for me for addicts, for dirty people, I had all sort of idea regarding the kind of people going to these kind of parties, some sort of urban legend, a bit of myth and a lot of fear.

I hated him, badly. He was high, he was talking with his “free voice” talking with his open soul. I wish I was with him in that moment, instead I was off to work in a couple of minutes.

I went to work looking forward to see him again. I want it to prove him that I wasn’t possessive of dependent from him. I promise myself that I was going to hear what he had to say without judging him too much.

In the afternoon when I was about to step back in the house I took a deep breath and I tried my best to keep myself neutral in front of him.

He was happy, he was calm, he didn’t consume too many drugs.Although he was dirty,his new shoes destroyed,his clothes black of mud;he was shining of a beautiful light, something that I never saw in him before. A different attitude to the world,out of judgments and expectations. I was impressed and more important I was curious to hear what he had to say.

He told me his journey there, he told me about the people he had met, the way they were free and how the way of partying was different.

The party was held in a park along the canal, they were people with boats coming from nowhere and enjoying the music, they were people with tents camping there for as long as the party was going on. People from different rolesa in the london society were there coexisting together for the love of that intrigued  sound that was called psy-trance music.

He told me how I would have like it a lot, especially because people there were actually talking about their experience as well as living them fully and exploring them with care. He then told me about this guy that he met. He was a pusher of course and he had the best hashish ever. His name sounded fake to me, Satirka, he was half italian, half greek half whatever in the world. He was a squatter. I hated squatters, society parasites, people living of drugs and lies. That was what I was thinking about them. But I couldn’t be more wrong. He invited me to see him, I was reluctant and intrigued. I was ready to challenge this guy with whatever he had to propose me and demonstrate that I was indeed right.

Few days later we finally went to meet him.

I’ve worn a very short skirt for the occasion and one of my hand painted/shredded t-shirt.

We went down to Battersea to his “house”.

When we got there we had to call him and make sure not to stare in front of the building not to create any suspect within the neighbours.

The building was unsuspicious,on the corner of the main street, 5 min away from the park, with the sign “bank” engraved on the top of the apparently sealed door, just on the left of the real entrance.

Luca came to open the door for us, he used to live near him and since the party he was going there often after work, to have some spliff with him or just to hang out. His friendly smile and his warmth always make me feel  safe,looked after;was the first time I wasn’t feeling the urge to attract him, he was my friend, I really felt a pure connection with him, an honest guy, someone you can count on, someone who was finding his way into the world with his own support and with a high sense of true friendship that all I was seeing in him in those few times we spent together.
We went inside.
The hallway was the kitchen, a blank space with a bike and some kitchen stuff.

The way to his room was trough the stairs, I could not notice the windows covered and as I was explained after that was necessary for not showing to the neighbours that someone was living in there. Squatters live in darkness,covered with  the warmth of the light passing thought the surface of multicoloured indian throw used instead of curtains.

I was nervous,walking behind them I was feeling something tingling coming up expanding trough my body.

Was like if my world was going to change forever once I’ve entered into that room.

That feeling of “something happening”, the shivering of all my organs…

What was behind that door that was making me feel like I was about to jump down a cliff?

Who was him and why M was insisting for me to know him? After 2 years together how he could possibly think that I was going to be interested in someone living life all the opposite of my ideal?

So I took a deep breath, soaking my nose in the sweet smell of the incense coming out of the room down the staircase ready for whatever was there behind…

London,dealer of self packed reality

We landed in on a rainy day of March.

Was busy,crowded,fast.

I never saw so many people moving around so fast,so focus so nervous.

Rush hour on  a friday afternoon,world moving around, new faces new environment.

I was feeling scared and instead I was showing my strongest side holding my two luggage on the street heading to the place recommended to find  easily a cheap place to sleep.

We didn’t have any plan at all, we didn’t know anybody that was there already.We were alone.

M was positive, he was laughing all the time looking around with dreams spelled eyes, his wonder was contagious.

I still remember the sweet smell of the shisha in Bayswater, the shiny duck hang on the restaurant windows, the huge roll of kebab adorned with citrus on the top, the abundance of fruits on the street stalls ,the asian supermarket with exotic frozen cut of meat.

The air of Bayswater was refreshed by the magic of a subtle rain. The sky was grey,the light looked soft and tired. In my head “rainy day in soho” by  Nick Cave.

Finding a place to sleep wasn’t so easy and wasn’t cheap.

For the first week we hang around changing rooms and hostels quite often.

We felt lost. I was behaving strong, M was falling apart, feeling the distance,missing his friends, I never saw that side of him before, I never saw his weakness but now was pretty clear to me as it was sober, he hadn’t had any drugs for the whole time we where there and that was the first time since I’ve met him.

Didn’t last long, we quickly discover that one of our fella from Italy was there.I was trying to avoid the contact as I knew where it was going to lead us.

But he need it, he need it a friend, someone of his old reality, someone who could help him to know what to do next.

We went to his house later that week and we got what we came for and I also got a job in the place where the fella was working.

M still didn’t have a job but now he had a contact and some people to smoke out with.

I was scared, I didn’t come to London to party, to get arrested, I did it for my sister.

I need it to get out from Italy before it was too late for me, before I had destroyed myself.

And although now I can say that moving here was the best thing I could have done for myself, at the time I didn’t know.

Leaving my sister was painful, I remember her face when I told her I was moving, I remember my little niece being barely able to walk and I look at her now running,swimming,talking freely as just a kid can do. Leaving them was the hardest part, with them I left a big chunk of myself exposed to the world, everyday I remember the pain of the moment were I cut the big string that was feeding each other and I flew away.

Coming here was for me the way to grow my own personality and I felt I didn’t want to waste any minute of my journey as I didn’t do it to have fun , I never been so keen of this city,It just felt the right thing to be doing in my life.Following your path request a lot of sacrifice and for me that is represented by the moments that I’ve lost with my niece, I didn’t saw her growing, my brother becoming grey,my mother growing older, my dog dying, my grandma changing from the strong self sufficient woman to the fragile living being that she’s now.

We found a house share in shepherd bush market, our flatmates they were from italy too.

M found a job after a while however living with him in this new reality was showing me the truth of his being.

I felt as I was becoming a mother of a troubled child.

I was frustrated, the job was painful, demanding.

I was working as a waitress, long hour,shit pay. Coming back home late in the evening smelling of fried bacon and cheap coffee I was so desperate for a homely hug but instead M was crawling on the couch smoking his day out and so I was doing the same.

We work a little and then we got enough.

We both quit our job and we decided to take it easy,getting to know the city before and perhaps toward the end of our saving we would have found a job or moved to another city.

We both felt the urge to party that night that we quit, need it to release frustration and unhappiness.

So we did, we went out, with our old friend from italy.

However the night was unsuccessful, no drugs around, and the ketamine it was shit cheap stuff.

Disappointed we left the club around 3 am and we went to get stoned at home.

Horrible night,horrible music,environment. What was that? Where was the beauty,the sparking crazy night that London was known for?

Was in that M saw a new job opportunity and everything started again.

We remember of a contact given to us while we were surfing the clouds with a dude during one of the most crazy after party I’ve ever been. We call him.

A couple of days after,we were discovering an unknown part of London.I quickly feel in love with the sensuous dark and homely appear of this side, so different from where we lived.

The guy  was living in a splashy fun house somewhere. He was funny,his house was adorned with fun and hospitality.

He was our new Ketch supplier. His stuff was insane;as anything we ever tried before.

M was shining on his way down to home,I started crying from the fearof being chained up, far from my beloved,in a place where I didn’t know laws and whatsoever. M was reassuring me that it was going to be easy,that I shouldn’t be worry.

When we got home I decided to put my thoughts behind and try to accept our new role in the london society.

Let’s see what is going to happen.

We went partying again some days later, Fabric this time.

Again we were disappointed from the clubbing scene in the city, It was pathetic, It was like everyone that was around that night had no clue of who was playing and had no interest to feel the music. People were more focused on getting wasted out of their eyes with alcohol instead of tuning in with the music and let their body moving freely upon it.

Was different of what we were use to. People didn’t like to listen, people like to get out of their mind, like to forget disliking to get in depth.

I though that in Italy the clubbing scene was made of gummy shaped human but here was even worst, people were like solid bunch of alcoholic distortion, they were inelegant, unearthly attached to the bar and to the toilet to sniff some “freshly grated wall”

I got the point why no one was using or selling drugs here, there was no point of doing it as people like to drown themselves in alcohol. However ketamine was the right partner for them as it didn’t request any withdraw and any particular wait. It was pretty much straight forward and people like the fact that it was just temporary.

On our first “shift” we made 200 pound, not bad.

I spent my first drug money to buy art material and t-shirts. I started creating again, dreaming to be able to have my own brand, to be able to sell my creations.

We were both living our little dream and was beautiful.

The spring was blossoming outside, we were together in our surreal builded reality, in our little special world made of lies to our parents and of several trip towards our supplier’s house.

The light outside was warm and kind and we loved to spent part of our day lying down on the grass in the nearest park playing around with a kite or just being together.

We were breathing together our uncertain sometimes slightly dangerous life.

I knew it wasn’t going to last forever but I felt the need to enjoy it.Enjoy the flowers discovering the sun, the light breath of the wind.

I loved to hear the birds singing outside our living room window.

We need it some time to settle, to get back together again on that sacred place were we meet and we feel in love.

Mescaline London

My life was starting to change.

I could feel it deeply inside.

From the moment that I have infused my soul with LSD my mind was perceiving stuff that I never thought about it  before.

I started painting again.

I got inspired by one of the latest party, a party fuelled by mescaline tulips;party that brought me extremely near to death when  I had to drove back home.4 hours of drive ahead of me under mescaline. I saw myself distorted into a curvy ocean waved road and although I make it home without trouble I got so scared that I stayed in my room for 2 days afterwards,with no energy to get out of it. One of the greatest experience that I had and also the one that make the picture clear. I wasn’t fitting in that club padded enviroment,it just wasn’t working for my feelings wondering nature.

I then started painting  and I gave up partying.

To do so I had to find a good excuse for M, something that sounded more like I can’t instead of I don’t want to.

I didn’t want to show my true self, I didn’t want to reveal what I was, the loaner,cozy and reflective girl who liked staying at home talking to people, I was afraid that he was going to leave me for that or to make me feel useless. And he would have done that,because he wasnt like that, he wasn’t the guy that liked to spent time at home;home was for him the prison were all the secrets were hidden to the world. Home was for me a place to be to explore the world within,as my mum always proposed to me with her never-ending beautiful dinners filled with friends and freedom of thought even from my early age.

I found myself a pretty restrictive job. I got into grape harvesting on the hills of a nearest city. I had to wake up quite early and work some weekend and some Mondays, I just couldn’t get wasted.

M accepted it but he continued to go partying following our usual schedule. Both him and C found another ride to carry them and the “stuff”;in exchange the driver was getting freebies. Pretty good deal for the lucky dude of the night.

It wasn’t a problem for me as every time I was left alone I was painting.

Splashing paint on customized tshirts,destroying and reconstruct again was my signature.

I used to spend most of the nights closed in my painting room exploring techniques, faces, feeling, music. Each moment spent within those walls was magic.

My mum was supporting me so much,she loved my art and she was making me feel proud of what I was doing.I was feeling great as for me her support was pretty much all I need it to carry on.

Our ketamine trade was giving me the money to express myself, the money to buy the material to paint. Ketamine was making my  dreams come true.

Later that summer M stepfather had an accident and the bubble blown out when he discover the secret of him being an alcoholic.

Under his disappointment he was forced to started to work full time in the family business and partying became pretty impossible for him too.

Party time was over, I was secretly happy about it.

Our psychedelic exploration instead was  just started.

Wednesday was our common day off and was all dedicated to taking hallucinogen in parks,beach,everywhere in the beauty of the world.

We were discovering our feelings related to the sunset,to the crowded places, to the softness of the water and the perfume of the sea.

The pleasure was given by being together in some hidden places of the world feeling the drug in his pure state without alteration of any sort just being in the world with wide open eyes.Aware consciousness was what I can now relate the experience to.

Obviously for M wasn’t enough,he was feeling unhappy, he was feeling away from his friends.

We started fighting, he was blaming my laziness to be with people, my anti-social behaviour.

I was feeling bad. Useless again. Unlovable for what I really was.

I want to change myself, my attitude towards the world. Although I was feeling empty before,during my previous attempt,perhaps  this time was going to be different.

We started partying again a little.

This time we focus more on the other part, on the after party.

We were quite lucky that the quality of our products was giving us access to most of the exclusive limited after parties held in unknown beautiful lands across Tuscany.

We meet people, and I’ve discovered the dark side of the party, the side were you push yourself further and further with no regards of your being.

I’ve seen people out of control making fun of themself. The monsters of the sunday evening, I was one of them myself.

It was intense. The pressure of wanting more and more of it was unbearable. You were free, no control whatsoever. Forgetting everything, forgetting where you were. OUT OF SPACE for as long as you want it.

Was an incredible feeling of squeezing the world away. Land of happiness, a music hospital you can call it, where everything was swept away for hours and hours from dawn to dusk.Just few people present. Was the family from nowhere.

I loved my nowhere land but however I was still feeling crushed inside me. My soul was shedding day after day,word after word. I still couldn’t feel understood, loved. I was feeling lost,it was like we were all lost, swimming in a coloured,marvellous bunch of soft jelly bubbles.

What to do now?

I need it a ground to grow my roots as I felt I had nothing to share,nothing to live for.

Someone one day whispered the word “London” to our ears. Somehow we were both drawn to the idea of experiencing a foreign country,a big city.

It sounded like hope to me, hope for change, for growth,for freedom.

I just need it to have some peace in my life.

I need it to feel the silence of the day, the space.

That was our time.

With a bunch of nothing and a lot of great expectation we move to london in March 2010.

Was me and him. I was motivated, we were strong together feeling the dream unfolding in front of us.

Kids on trip on the sacred hill

Spinning around

My life was riding my car from a city to another to go clubbing,to find drugs.

Spinning around and sniffing white powder to fade away the fear of the present,the fear of what you were not become yet and of who you didn’t know you were.

Kids playing in a dream world.

Our drugs selling skills were becoming better and better. Ketamine was our best friend and was because of it that we were able to go and do things that we never explored before. However I was starting to get tired of the same drugs,Ketamine,Ecstasy, Mdma,Cocaine,Cannabis, I started to feel the need to explore out of the granted happiness of those plastic drugs.

I’ve always been a kind of LSD freaks, I loved to read about psychedelic,kinda of preparing myself to it. Was the unknown, a more insightful approach to the drugs world.

I was sick of spending time with people happily high, talking to them as they were my best friend, telling stories, sharing my free thoughts like I never before and then seeing them fading away, forgetting the hours spent together.

After every party I was sad,exposed, naked in front of a bunch of gummy humans. I was looking for friends and I was finding empty hearted people living the illusion of being alive.

Neither M and C ever tried LSD. Wasn’t the kind of substance you can take to clubs, but both of them they were curious.

I read the Hoffman’s book about it, I searched on the net, read reports, study, I read a trip of people and I was keen on the way this little wonder has changed the life and the acts of writers, artist and so on.

Was it what I was looking for? Could it that have the answers or at least a hint on how to get there?

M and C they knew people who were able to provide us with it. We had a group of friends in another city, they were coming partying with us every now and then ; “new hippies”,dressed in multicoloured self branded clothes, with dreads, long hair, beards. Kids living in a different time space to me, spending days lying down on this special place called sacred hill, lying down on the grass puffing joints after joints with an open mind, welcoming whoever without much care about the way they look, the car they had. Cool kids. I used to call them “Kids on trip”.

One of them particularly was my favourite. Blonde guy, sweet face, honestly open, terrible at school great at exploring. He just came back from London and He took with him some papers, “Shiva double drops”. I found interesting the way they used those Hindu gods to call a drug.

He was very much about the ritualistic act of using it.

I was intrigued again, that guy has something so special to me that I couldn’t describe, I had a great secret admiration for him although he was for me the opposite of my idea of smart whatever guy. He wasn’t going to school, he was working, he didn’t care much about university, he care about living the moment, being here. His friends called him with  a funny nickname, something that sounded like someone who really liked to get wasted.Just later I found that was actually his family name. I was secretly attracted by him. All I wanted was his attention but all I ever got was the feeling of being not good enough for someone with such an open-hearted mind.

We decided to take the Shiva the day of my birthday. We went to my house on the seaside, we were mentally prepared. I was strikingly nervous that day. Was me,M,C and the Kid on trip.

We put on some “dark side of the moon” by Pink Floyd. We relaxed on the couch, switched off all the lights, smoked some hashish before, and then we took each a quarter of the special paper.

The Kid didn’t want any money for it, that wasn’t the point, the point was discovering the drug together, discovering the purest union of souls and that required sharing.

After some hours I started to feel the numbness, the slowness spacing inside my mind, waves were moving from the stereo to the ceiling, waves of sound. The music pierced my flesh and draw a rainbow in it. Us and them was the song where everything started. “Us” was me, seeking for peace, for love, for freedom to be, them was society, family, common sense, judgement, darkness, despair. “Them” was not what I want my life to be, I didn’t want to fall into the common world or I would have probably lost myself fully at some point. Was like being a happy jellyfish in an ocean of soulless sad and empty purple coloured jellyfish. I had found my master, my way to get out of there, my way to taste the rainbow. Psychedelic exploration was my way of liberation.

All was getting started in that very moment of spacing out from the known universe.

That night I opened my feelings to M I told him that I had a problem, I had suffer of bulimia and perhaps I was just recovering, he was helping me to do that.

That night I felt my body aware of my presence in the world. Naked next to his warmth, deeply infused in an honest hug.

Was the beginning of stepping out of the box, was something I would have never forget. A taste of the one, a taste of what is out of our eyes beyond our orbital views, beyond our open hands, beyond the feeling and the explanation of things. Something deeply rooted at the base of my spine was shivering up to my head and opening his way to the sky.All the wait, the preparation to that very moment was worth.

Lsd was become for me my great master. Wasn’t a substance, wasn’t “IT” but was instead “HE/SHE”.The deepest love within so far.

The morning after my perception of the world wasn’t the same, I was perceiving the wind on my skin and from my skin inside me.

I went to the beach, walked barefoot on the sand. Felt the water, the sun and my heart opening within. I cried exposed to the beauty of being there,being in the world.

Life wasn’t so dark and dull anymore. Life was just different.

Was I starting to see some hope of becoming someone at least useful to myself?

What was that all about? What was behind that?

I wanted more days like that in my life. I wanted everyday to feel so Real.

We drove back to reality with no words to waste, just in the peaceful silence of the time passing by.

Half litre of thoughts

Ketamine was fucking cheap and extremely easy to find.

A couple of phone calls,some products test and there it was.

For just 400 euro we had our first half litre of Ketamine.

The guy showed us how to proceed with the liquid form. We never saw it before. M and C were visibly excited by this new adventure. I was nervous,in the small apartment of the guy,our supplier; between unwashed dishes and piles of clothes I was a bit paranoid, the fact that I had some spliff  before obviously didn’t help.

Cooking up the Ketch was easy. You just need it a good non-sticky pan and an syringe, one of those big one. Then yo need to know the proportion. 1ml/1g roughly, if you are lucky sometimes you can get a little bit more out of it. The most important thing was to cook small quantities at the time,just to get the most out of each batch.

The procedure was easy, put the liquid onto the pan and wait till you see it frying sort of thing and then the white layer appears;at that point you take the pan out of the fire and you put it upside down under cold water. Ready.After there is the scraping part.With a card of  any kind, scrap the surface of the pan and take the powder out.Pour it onto a paper surface and keep of grinding it with the paper till right consistence,a bit like salt consistence.

Next step is the bags making “art”. That is the crucial part as is also the way you present a product that would make you a good seller. The bag has to be made of a good material,strong but flexible as need to allow the consumer to keep unwrapping it and wrapping it up again,several time during partying and also you have to consider that this process has to be quite easy as well as quite secure and you have to think about the consumer’s sweaty hands after sometimes of drug consuming needing something strong enough not to fall apart after a couple of uses.

And the precision of making the bag would avoid you to weight each bag every time!

The guy show us how to make the first one with the ability of an origami maker and we were completely astonished.

M and C tasted the freshly cooked Ketch immediately. I didn’t as I have to drove back home and I was already pretty paranoid by the idea of travelling with 500ml of liquid ketamine in our possession.

We left his apartment confused by the loudness of some kids. The Folk was living by a kindergarten of course.

I was pretty shaky and agitated. I couldn’t actually speak to any of my fellow,neither they could speak with me as they where climbing the highest imaginary mountains apparently,and they continued to do so till a bunch of minutes before we reached our home territory and we need it to sort out an action plan.

By that point I was irritated as I just wanted to go back home and touch a safe base,sleep and forget for a minute the situation were I was involving myself into.

M and C were laughing like two kids while trying to make a joint. I claimed attention saying that I had to go and pick up my mother from somewhere(not really true as my mum has is own car but I just need it to get out of there),finally C gave me attention. He was always the one to come back to me in any situation,our relationship was indeed getting stronger day by day.

We made a plan,as I was the only one to have the house mostly for myself every afternoon, we would have cook there on Friday made the bags and packed the quantities that we were going to sell on Saturday.

I was going to be transportation and holder. M and C were production,packing and distribution.

Was going to be easy.

Was all clear when I left the guys heading back home.

On my way I put on some Nick Cave in my car. I went for a ride up to the hills singing out my favourite songs.

Was a rainy day, was cold. The sky was telling the story of a storm that was growing inside him. I felt lost, wondering if that was the good decision or not. I felt like I was going to risk to waste my life becoming the biggest disappointment for my mother.

But there was no way back,that was my way to deal with whatever I had to do. That was for me the only way to be with him, to explore this relationship and perhaps to change him for the person I know he was.

I was feeling like I had to save M and the only way to do so was to be his friend,his partner in crime. Yeah perhaps that was it. My consistent wish of changing people.

Was it right? I wasn’t able to judge what was right and what was wrong by that point. I wasn’t very much able to feel either what it was right and I couldn’t tell anybody because was a big risk especially when your best friend is the daughter of someone involved with the police and you just feel by that point that you have to keep her far from you and far from understanding what are you really doing,again was happening, loosing a friend for the sake of a relationship. Was it right?I had no idea but that was what I need it to do,cut the old out,scooping it out of my skin for the sake of the unknown and because that Love was keeping me alive making me feel less the need of abuse myself again.

I never been honest with my friends. For them I’ve always been the clown,the actress, Marlene. For them I was very loud with my problems, very loud with my needs but no one ever knew me for the one I really was, for what I was really feeling. I never felt to show my weakness to anyone. I was afraid they could use them against me somehow. I couldn’t trust anybody else apart the person I was sleeping with. That person was taking everything. I was giving him everything. That was the only way for me to be sincere.

I loved my friends but I never let them dig into my feelings I was acting as I didn’t have any apart from the one reflected into my acting,the one I was choosing to have and to show.

They never knew about my eating habits.

Was easy for me to let them go for this new thing.

I wasn’t really attached to them as I never let them in. The sacrifice was kind of easy this way.

I was used to do so every time I was starting a new relationship. My mum was always telling me that I would have never had real friends as people were just disposable to me. No one would have ever loved me as they already knew my pattern.

Maybe that was right, maybe it wasn’t. But that was what I had to do for him and I did it with no effort as the world he had showed me was incredible. Was a world were you were allowed to feel and to be whatever you feel for a couple of hours that however they were better than anything else I’ve ever experienced since then.

That was good enough to justify that decision to myself.

I could cope with the paranoia, perhaps it was even going to be funny and kind of rebel.

Fuck everything around.

I was looking for healing and that was my way to get to that. Somehow hoping that wasn’t going to be so bad.