Wednesday, 2 March 2011

Vinovian Nights

As the year progressed and my mind was taken over by my everyday schedule, all the hurting and deeper feelings and reflections about life fatally had to be put to bed.
There is just too much I ought to do and there is just so much time… – a lifetime.

February took over and I had to meet a rushed appointment, located somewhere unknown. A lot of doubts, expectations and, in my pocket, a bit of good hope.
Despite not knowing the exact location, I was aware that a few kilometres were lying ahead, so I took the luxury coach all the way to my destination.

After a slightly comfortable trip, I found myself arriving on a rather packed station, feeling quite bemused.
Still, I did not know exactly where I was getting – I had certainly laid my feet on that sole… But where was it again?
This was the question I had not much time to come up with an answer as I, all of a sudden, had to focus on my struggling to fight the road sickness, the fear of the danger and the despair after a couple of things went just way too wrong.

Oh you city, serving me with the worst welcome one could wish on a Friday morning…

It was still hardly dawning, but the day was not promising much of a relief.
Feeling watched by the remaining night-lights of the city, I took a cab, in hopes to soon have a better overview of the situation.

As we reached the beautiful boulevard, I found myself on a sweet déjà-vu of times of yore – still unable, though, to determine my location. Where am I, for heaven’s sake?!

On my very temporary room, I was looking out the window, feeling nowhere close to pleased. That set of big blocks of solid concrete surrounding me carried a soul of its own; an aura that was certainly aware of my foreign origin and was clearly not delighted with my presence.
A slight bitter sense of despair was swirling through my bones, giving me chills and fear. I did not feel welcome whatsoever.

Oh, dear…

Some time later, sun was properly up, so it was time to pick up a company and get to the goddamned appointment, which was, after all, the primary reason I got to that unidentified metropolis.

Well, good morning.

A taxicab drive and another set of troubles away, there was I, in the office of that blue-eyed gentleman. Business, business. Far from satisfaction or safety, but well, one never knows – and this is not exactly important.
A glimpse of hope perhaps?

We then left back home, by foot, all the way down the hill.
Sun was far up by then, casting a proper light upon the city, which, for the first time, seemed a little less hazardous.

A little bit of adventure followed, in order to patch some of the bad events of the morning. With no despise to the funny, interesting and somewhat dangerous moments, the highlight and perfect summary of that morning was, undoubtedly, the strengthening of a good friendship.
And the early morning puzzle, well, it was slowly being solved.

Friday afternoon and I was alone at the very downtown of that big city.
Wandering around the high buildings, I had the insistent feeling I had certainly been there before – but then again, where was I?
The question kept bugging me and there was not a thing I could do to solve it.

Night fell, breaking apart any hint of a will to stay indoors on such a welcoming dusk scene.

So my friend and I hit the streets, having nothing but free and unpretentious fun around those crowded corners and curvy sidewalks.
It was time to play the parts of anyone else but us, to our hearts’ will, enjoying to the most the anonymity of the metropolis.

Observing the forms of life around me, it became a little clear that I had reached a different kind of world – which I did not quite belong to, though this was never exactly important.

I had just hit the night of that big city whose name I still did not quite know. Had never been in those corners before, but it was feeling just properly nice.

Despite the interesting experience, my pockets were still full of good hope and rather pushing expectations I had, somehow, to meet.
The past night had just not been enough, I remarked on the following morning, as the rain broke into my window, waking me up on a wet, but still weirdly gentle fashion.

Walking up and down the streets again and again, the feeling of intense boredom and frustration was slowly taking over, hence spoiling somehow the whole trip experience.
The hours passed dully, while I myself was, at times, bordering the numbness.

Laid my head on her lap and shared my heart with her – and so did her to me.

That was when magic took place.

Our fingers came together. They were drawing neon lights. We were letting ourselves be expressed on a glimmering, colourful output.
She was writing beautiful neon poetry.
I was scratching my dreams for a night.

So strange, though, how talking my soul out takes so much energy of me… Perhaps it is a protection of some sort, preventing me from opening too wide.
I do not quite know.
A few hours later, I was exhausted. And so was my friend.

Night-time was, however, consolidated outside, inviting us out. We then decided it could not be so insanely bad to give ourselves another go after all…

And so we, once again, hit the night scene. This time around, the situation relevantly conformed to my innermost desires more profoundly – a detail I would keep to myself.

Making our way deep into the club dark corridors, I felt a weird sense of fear and excitement lighting up a flame in my soul.
None of those persons facing me were known. None of those persons, however, were strangers.
Uncanny how that place was familiar. Uncanny how it brought out something in me.

The calling of the night was not just an invitation. It was a dare.
I knew I was up to a brand new thrill.

We then reached the dance floor. Electronica pulsed immediately through my veins.
It was my night.

I danced boundlessly to the beat, not giving the smallest notice to my rough moving abilities or to the intense heat inside that overcrowded place.
Lights shone and blinked so bright that got hypnotized and unable to stop.
The challenge set by the dusk had met a fearless contender, not afraid to talk to strangers, not afraid to look into people’s eyes and not afraid to feel renewed and somehow powerful.

A tequila, a vodka and a few hours later, I was finally getting a hint of the name of the city I had been taken to.
The tone was set to perfection in such a way that I sincerely did not care much of whatever would happen.
I finally had my heart tuned to that big city.

This is when it became clear that the big and before unknown metropolis was actually Vinovia.

I may assume you, dear reader, may not know Vinovia by its name.
No big wonder, however, that you may have been there before without even knowing.

Vinovia is a city, big in size, huge in wonders.
It is a metropolis, centre of one’s world, packed with all the good moments and proper emotions, bound to shake deep inside of oneself.
It is a land of dreams coming true amongst glimmering lights and glittery glamour.
It is a place of intensity.
It is the result of meticulously hand-drawn project, conceived to be perfect.
Wide streets and arborized sidewalks being the relief of the claustrophobic – but, still, gorgeous – skyscrapers and the perfect pathways for love, beauty and passion to flow on.
Nothing else matters but love, beauty and passion.
Nothing else you feel but love, beauty and passion.

There is no better definition on Vinovia, my friend.
One can see it, one can touch it, but one is only properly in Vinovia when he is feeling it.

Without even knowing, I had been in Vinovia for the last couple of days and had even reached the Vinovian nights.
Points were being connected and it was all suddenly making sense… - or not so quite. When one is in Vinovia, heart is the only guide, and when it comes to the matters of the heart, sense is never properly a priority, I can assure you.
How clear had it been all along?

Back to the club, hours passed by so quickly… Time does fly when one is enjoying the moment.
Already late, late of the night, the time was perfect to run away with feeling the wildest liberty… The pouring rain, however, had its own plans, and got us stuck inside that tiny box.

It was, properly, a destiny trap. A plot concerning myself.

The electronica music paced all the way up to a raving melody.
It was not just a song; it was a political scream for liberty, coming from the far east.

That was the exact moment when that little figure moved over to challenge me.
Cherry blossoms fell from the roof as the battle began.

And then I was in the wild battlefield, while the music was just a distant soundtrack.
Never a poetic scene, such a bloody war that was.
Violence. Killing animalistic instincts.
The rage made me feel so alive.
It hurts, but it sure feels so right.

Two winners in Vinovia.

Reaching home as the daylight was making its way into the skies, I was once again feeling as glorious as in happy past days.
It hurts, but I sure deserve it – physical pain that could never compare to my inner joy.
And the wounds, well, they were nothing but a trophy.

Last day in Vinovia was placid and slow-paced, as an extended after-party relaxing lounge.

And as another night felt, it was time to leave the city, leaving my dearest friend behind.
A sad farewell, sealed with a close hug, giving us a glimpse of how deeply we would miss each other.

Not long after, I was on the coach, heading back to homeland. Before I could even notice, Vinovia had vanished behind the hills.
Painful departures…


Back to Vinovia, a few days later.

A few days later, Vinovia dawn light was waking me up once again.
Just like the last time, I had been taken to Vinovia without even knowing, and it took the sun shining in my face for me to realize where exactly I was.

As I moved in the bed, trying to get to a comfortable position and hopefully fall asleep again, there were just so much memories in my mind, in a puzzle slowly completed minute after minute.
A strange hotel room, a feeling of solitude and, to some extent, of regret and shame.

Last night had been intense.
And drawn in champagne.
A festive drink to a festive occasion. How fitting.

Such a luxury environment I recall, filled with classy figures soaring around, in their flowing gowns and perfectly aligned suits, in a glamourous top-notch celebration, thrown by the Vinovian high-society copula.

Making acquaintances and just pretending to fly as high as the nose-raising people, I was having my own pleasant and fun time.

A sip or two of champagne and I was in the mood.

Dancing to the track, whatever track it was and whoever the dancing partner was – who cares?
Vinovia does bring you the wildest nights and the most bizarre situations.

All the craziness eventually hit the streets, in a situation that, from the outside, makes it look quite remarkable how we managed to get home just fine.

But hell, who cares?
Almost fainting in bed, struggling to stop laughing out of nothing… The day was dawning outside.
I finally fell asleep.

The following day started with no hangovers. This is just too weird.

Time, however, to drive back home, in the sweet company of good friends. Vinovia, once again, was left behind.


Homeland, today.
Life goes on.

Vinovia is far away.
Vinovia is just a dream.

And how I miss the Vinovian nights.

Have you ever been in Vinovia, dear reader?