Meaipe, Sunday, January 28
All around, bandits assault busses along the mountain roads.
So we travel by car, we travel fast and we break through the
bandido’s mountain highway barrier. They cannot catch us anymore as we land in
the wild lowlands, in the state of the Holy Ghost.
Sandwiched between the high granite of the gray green
mountains on our right and the hard yellow sandy dunes, the endless beaches to
the left, softly flotsam and jetsam, reflections of gray green azure of water,
possible swimming all the way to Africa, possible walking south all the way to
Patagonia.
SURPRISE! We thought we were going to the quaint fishing
village, quasi vacation spot for the summer. We land instead in the land of
glitz and sexy semi naked sensual people.
"MAIS+". The new nightclub of Meaipe! Appropriate
for the mood of the local people, coming from nearby, from faraway and
everywhere, lining the streets to gain access to more and more and more. The
fishing village has changed with the arrival of MAIS+ and MORE.
Women are buying new glitzy bras and shimmering gowns to
shine inside "Mais+". The red brown dust of the village roads kisses
the delicate golden red brown skin of these babes. Dressed to dance and to be seen (or to kill),
they know right away they have ruined their high heeled shiny bare sandals, as
soon as they smell the fishy muck of this backed up sewage of this fishing
village set on more.
But for MORE we will do just about anything! Even ruin make-up
and high heeled sandals in sewage.
I am told "The
first world has finally come to visit. We have made it! And we will show you! You
the imaginary folk of the first world! We will show you how it is done!!"
And so they stand in line, females in barely covered fronts
and very bare backs. No big breasts, they all belong to the female species of
small tits. The males, more subdued, busy counting notes and buying tickets. A serious female mutation happening here.
These dames are on a hunt and in full plumage. These female cats are showing
off. The escorts, the males may take on
an occasional silk, an occasional soft cloth, but overall they look gray. Barely out of puberty, they strike me as mimicking
confidence.
But the women, ah the women they are out on a hunt -
preening and plucking their plumage - serious business of pheromones on display!
Pheromones in training? What is this? Pro-life, pro-creation? What motivates
them?
I intuit decadence, in the keen sense that seeds and other
vegetable creatures concoct in order to assure the perpetuation of a species in
danger. Unconscious behavior?!
Something is dying, and these young women, these young men
know it! Something has gone amuck, and so these babes of procreation must
spread the seed and stand in line to MAIS and to more.
Meaipe, State of the Holy Ghost, 2006
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