This is unbelievable! I am still alive, guys, mainly thanks to you and the bonanza of good energy that is thriving lately. Apparently. I couldn’t manage to scramble 320 euro for my aide to help me get out of this place. So, I decided to.. hitchhike! 3300 kilometers by chance. But- I got to introduce you to the stuff I was being into in this period. First of all- still being in Sicily I got the chance to make some lesser money, because my host here told me that I can take some olive oil in exchange, plus – I had the opportunity to work with the equipment I lack at the moment. I’ve made short clips – focused mainly on getting the cash to go elsewhere. I’ve helped my friend from Norway- Ewa Zielonka to get on with her mini-show- something about Magical Stones which were hand-painted and … magical, and tried to push my Useless Card business (I attach this stuff along with this entry).
These stuff where very complicated, because I was short one assistant. My travel-blog turned out a trouble -blog indeed, and she craved money. Because I couldn’t endure more slavery, but – more important- almost constant humiliation – I wanted to get out of this beautiful island as fast as possible. Ewa Zielonka met me here, but she came with a boyfriend, which was weird because I didn’t know that when I’ve informed her about the possibility of staying here a couple of weeks. Because I invited only her. They used to politely ask me to get out of my room when they wanted to fuck. She’s just a pothead. But she also struggles pursuing her happiness, I hope that marijuana addiction would drain her lifeforce out. I attach her project, see by yourself. If you want to.
Anyways, the day of reckoning has came and I got to go. Giordano, the olive grove owner, said that this is the day all Poles got to go. I’ve asked him for some money, and he gave me five euro. He was freaking out because he was on his trip to get the weed. I think he couldn’t live without it anymore. He’s particularly unstable without it. He gave me a lift to Palermo.
Then I’ve stayed with my great friend- Angela. She and her friends – Serena, Emanuele, Carla helped me a lot, acknowledging me that I don’t need to wash the plates to feel safe and have a place to rest my head. I had my own room where I could finally get my shit together. I mean- my mind. And I went to Vucceria a couple of times. Haven’t I told you about this legendary party place? Everybody is here. The place which is a marketplace during the day changes drastically nearing the dusk. If you breathe- you breathe weed. That’s true. A lot of people. All kinds. Hookers one by another. Loud music. I love this city, guys… I don’t know how to say thanks to Angela. She had similar troubles to me. Her parents split up, destroying her sense of safety. Her comfort zone, which was money for law-studies (her father drew the map) blew up when they’ve split. On the other hand: I couldn’t tell no law of the land- maybe this one who protects the more wealthy. Anyway, I couldn’t stay there any longer, because I was dependent, and I wanted to again take the thread of my life into my own hands. Again. Again and again.
And then I lost my go-pro camera. When I left Angela’s place I was so frightened of the road which awaited me- I flushed it down the consumer’s economy for 150 euros. I regret that, but then it seemed reasonable. I haven’t a penny in Palermo. I’ve bought some food, cigarettes, train ticket and a ferry ticket. A small piece of hashish. Maybe it is bad that I couldn’t lie to you guys. Because it is the opposite what PR studies taught me. But I am just a human. I’ve did it and now I am without my tools of trade. Go-pro had several drawbacks (like the damned fish-eye), but it was important. More important- the feeling I am alone, so far away from home; the home which I do not possess. Because I don’t have no comfort zone. You got to try to understand. I’ve panicked. I thought about getting to Holland, to Germany, Berlin, but I’ve never foresighted the outcome. Nevertheless, I felt bad. The only justification was the case- I could easily buy another one or something different, when I could finally get some just job. I spent two nights in a hostel for 40 euros, because I didn’t want to be a burden for my friends anymore (yeah, some of the slave, underworld programming back from my homeworld), being afraid of the road. Finally, I’ve buckled up and left Palermo. This was double sad, because I still wasn’t sure where I should try to end up. This is how fear works. Note it please. Or just remember. The fear puts you in a chaotic place, where you don’t remember what to do, what is the most important stuff and you just seek safety. You don’t operate logically. I am so ashamed, and hopefully you will forgive me guys I couldn’t document it all for you properly. Because IT WAS A HELL OF A RIDE.
And the ride has started. I took a train and shortly after that- a ferry to Reggio di Calabria. When I left the ferry I thought I should find some road leading out of the town. Some guy yelled at me, but I decided not to care. He reached me by his car and said that I should go back. This wasn’t the proper direction. He gave me two pair of shoes, some trousers, a jacket ( I had stuff, but it was not good for the temperatures north of Rome) and some food and told to try catch something near the coastline, by the ferry. I got that plan to catch a ride which is going far to the north. The first driver who took me was a truck driver rushing to Venice. After a few hours driving he stopped, and said that he ought to have a pause now.
He closed the curtains. I stayed on my seat. He asked me if I want to join him, because he had room for two up in the truck. I said ‚no’. He insisted. I said ‚no’ again. And then- he came down to the cab and inquired me of my sexual orientation. I am not gay. Or bisexual. He asked that maybe I want to show my fucking wiener to him after all… Maybe just that. I’ve opposed and after the night drive spent in complete silence he left me somewhere near Bari. Something like the Lost Highway. Really trippy. It was more to come, though.
Next guy stopped and told me that he can help me get to the right road – the road leading out of the town in the proper direction, but first he want to go to the beach and have a bath in the sea. It turned out that it was a naturist beach. Then – he watched my wiener very closely (yeah, maybe it was wrong I’ve undressed there, but nothing told me that the situation will be almost the same) and I thought „what the flying fuck is wrong with these guys”. A few minutes later he swept some dry sand off my buttocks. Yup. That’s what happened. I’ve said : „What the fuck, man?” and he replied „Are you gay?”. „No I am not”- I’ve said. „Maybe this is the right time to be sure you are not gay?” or something like that. After more of this unpleasant weird stuff he gave me 5 euro and gave me a lift. What the heck?!! A girl alone isn’t safe, and a boy also is a easy prey for these lonely, sad guys. Or gays. Or FUCKING EUROPE WHAT IS GOING ON DOWN HERE?!
I was near the Bari football club stadium. I saw a lot of cars going in circles. Was wondering if someone, during the night, is learning how to drive. Also, I’ve met another truck driver, who told me that he will give me a lift, but I got to wait twenty minutes. After twenty minutes he said that he watched a movie. I’ve asked what movie. Of course, it was a movie about two guys having gay sex. He even showed me the clip. I’ve freaked out and preventively told him that I am not gay. He looked disappointed and inquired me about my orientation and had asked if I have small one or big one, eventually. I’ve lied that I have a small dick. I know you shouldn’t lie but I had to. He said I’ve got to wait for him 20 minutes, because he’s got to unload the stuff from the back. I’ve waited, and he haven’t returned. No hitchhiking for straight guys, huh?
When I was waiting something strange happened. In every ten minutes one of the cars driving around the parking lot neared me and somebody asked me „what am I doing here”. I was replying in my italian that I am waiting for my friend. Then I’ve asked what are they doing…. The response was always the same:”Fare il giro.” We are making circles. Duh?
One more approached me. An old guy, when I’ve told him that I am waiting for my friend, he told me that this place is not safe for me. This was the place where homosexuals and transgender people were meeting up. He gave me a lift to the highway, were some good soul helped me go to the north.
Next five days I was sleeping in the forests. Maybe, if I had time and so-so financial stability I will put it into a book of some kind. After all, I’ve managed to get back to …. Poland. That’s right guys, after all this shit I’ve ended up the place where I was born. Almost there.
I have so much to tell you, but this is so difficult, since I am so poor. This was a dream I could achieve easily if I would had some money, but I don’t have nothing. And- after all- almost nobody wants to see the true reports. The truth. People are in fear, lets face it. I am not the only one, I am just a person, who dared to speak out. What are the consequences? I feel this whole continent now, I understand the stuff what is going on in Italy, Spain, France, Germany, even Greece. We are fucked, and we live on borrowed time. Something just isn’t right, huh? Maybe you agree. I wish I could document the stuff properly. Thanks for the support for all the good souls, I am trying to survive and for sure – you can count for some info from me in the near future. But I don’t know how long. I love you guys. But I am gay NOT.