¨The secret is to be silent, look North, toward immense America, and decode what the wind tells you. Galloping, shouts of the Indian raider cutting throats, gunshots, brandy festivities. The dew. The inevitable calm. Cries of captive women sounding like orgasms. Later, allow yourself to become possessed. Reincarnate in the ferocity of the Indian Guaicaiperu Listen to the lemanjä, to Ochum, to Obatalä. Take in the mysticism and idealism of the murals of Mexico and then switch, adapting them to the current commercialism, codes in this senseless global village--Armani-Dolce and Gabbana-missiles to Belgrade-virtual reality. Fighting with a bare machete. Feel yourself among the followers of the prophet Marti. Feel you´re Maradona! Drink a midday caipirinha until the sun goes down. Gather a group to sing in restaurants: cuatro, maracas, guitar and harp. Go to play with
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