Intubated trip through Gijón

The evening caught me at the spot where the municipal bicycles are rented
my camera lens got splashed with drops of mizzle, which, like the promises of yesterday used to, may come, and may go.

Welcome to the unknown Green Spain, stranger, we never had tourists here, and we never will.

Some blocks away from the big mall, one may find inauspicious lanes:

from a near Chigre someone playing a bagpipe could be heard... sometimes I wonder how to do, to explain

explain, explain to you

and in the name of the Christ, if there is one: will your mental co-ordinates understand one day? 

Understand, me.

Because, if you still didn't notice, this is a real world, and I'm real.

A while later I woke up at this lightless park that everybody knows

my feet got enlarged on the path of the burned ghouls, like a saint who has lost his love

like Francis of Assisi in sandals.

The chimneys of the northern Spain are built in a very strange way, as if the builders would fear something unidentified which, eventually, one day, could come from the vertiginous skies

a giant fist like a revenge, maybe, or an intergalactic invasion arrived from the astral womb.

Then, and blocks away, with the night already closed over my head, a shop window caught my eye at Telepathy Street

a shop window in which the anthropomorphous plastic welcomed me to a strange frame of mind

because the humanoids' features talked to my brain with silent, dare one say, painful suggestions

because at that hour the shop was already closed.

An automatonlike display of perfection filled my eyes in that cold minute... their hands... 

... what did their hands have?

What did their empty eyes transmit? Do they only transmit in the night?

While I took the photos focusing on that vitrine, while the robotic retina of the lens recorded the visual signals, I noted how para-psychic the place became for my cerebral electricity as the minutes went by:

the obscure, grey and undistinguished street in which the shop was located, made it even more enigmatic.

The artificial figurines that crowded that lighted scenery (in a dark lane) were maybe just ghosts

phantasms from my very past, telling things that I never could understand:

I turned my back with disgust and walked away buried as one with the shadows of the narrow sidewalk.

Something inside of me knew that it was too late for tears
and that what I'll never find, is gonna kill me in the end.