YAMAN - Life of a Crazy Conscious

Human brain is a strange machine, has the power of remembering little details, or forgetting important

moments, depending on his own needs.

In some case is even able to create his own world.

In Lisbon especially.

There is a strange atmosphere there. Something MORE.

I call it effect “secret door”.

If you open the right one, if you end up there, something that I feel like considering “magic” can happen.

I suggest to give a try. YOU. Go there, feel the city, open that door aaaaaand...there you are.

There I was. Few times already. Don’t remember how long ago.

I met a person. He had that “extra” too...funny stories. Different personality. Insane episodes.

Since that day I felt the need of putting on paper as much as I could follow and understand of his life.

He speaks fast and is not always easy to distinguish what is reality, what imagination.

But the story is amazing, so I’m here, wasting my ink, to tell YOU.

In that specific door the music was loud, the people scaring and the all place I can only describe it as wired and dark.

In the middle of the dance-floor there were three of the most different characters I have ever seen in my life.

Taking their space. Lost in their trips. Far away from us.

Tried to talk but I got aggressively ignored. They didn’t give a fuck of what happening around them.

Closed eyes. All in their minds. All in the music.

Were probably the drugs hitting strong cause they were unstoppable.

Keeping on dancing. Keeping on living. Enjoying. Flying.

Curious I started asking around, but, no names, no ideas, nobody gave me a response.

Gave up. Too crazy to follow, but that night they kept on dancing in my dreams.

Who were them?

Some nights later. Different location. Different music.

Only one of them there, but exactly same attitude.

Not really answering me. Still in his world. Clearly fucked.

Sadness and aggressively coming out from his eyes.

They were dark, staring to the ground, pointing to no-where.

Not talking. Just dancing. Dancing loud.

He was probably alone. Looking into himself. Searching for an answer.

More nights pass, this time earlier, this time he wasn’t alone.

Many friends around. All dancing. All beautiful. All on fire.

I managed to take one of them apart, offered him a beer, had a chat. Asked couple of questions.

-So, basically, who the fuck is that guy?-

He laughed first then told me they were living together. He described him as somehow crazy, but hand-able, when sober.

Talked more with him. Great person. Student of architecture, German, really polite smiley dude.

I drunk more, someone offered a gin tonic, and there I was, as usual, with another glass in my hand, drunk, a bit lost.

Forgot how I got home.

But I remember the name of the buddy, Peter. Sure I’ll meet him again.

And again, I met him. A few weeks after. Same bar.

I decided to sober up. This time I wanted to talk to him. The “crazy one”.

IMPOSSIBLE.

He was fucked already, even then I manage an invitation from Peter for a party in their house.

Rua Pascoal De Melo 71, ring-bell S/C dir.

What is S/C for? Sure I’ll find out there.

There we go...another secret door. This one looks heavy.

I rang the bell s/c dir. No answer, but the door opens.

It brings me into this old building, kinda of stylish, wooden staircase, frescoed walls, all decorated to the last details. Seems like a darkly aged mansion.

How to find the party is easy...” follow the white rabbit”. NOISE.

From downstairs. One, two, three floors underground. Deeper than the rabbit.

Who would live here?

Finally voices. The door is open. Let’s get in.

A long corridor, dark lights. Going direction music, speaks, lathing.

WOOOOW. Lot’s of people. Everyone smiling, everyone loud.

Confusion, alcohol, and smokes in the air.

A couple of dogs come to welcome me first than anyone else...nice.

The atmosphere is friendly. One by one I introduced myself, but I’m terrible with names, especially after drinks.

They all seemed from different nationalities, different stories, different faces. All damn good-looking.

Keeping on going with the crowd I reached a back room. With windows, wet-suites surfs, towels, bottles, a mess all around.

But there was another door, this brings outside and, WOOOOW, there is a huge patio here. Beautiful garden, lot’s of plants, flowers, more people and him.

Peter. He was sitting on a sofa, chatting with friends.

I got closer to the group and finally recognized.

-Hey, you...you are the guy from Crew Hassan. Happy to see you here. Come on, sit with us, get a beer-

I did and took a sit on his side.

He whistles in my hear –sorry to tell you, but I forgot your name-

-I’m Marco-

-Eh, people, this is Marco-

-YO Marco...IAAAIIIIII...ciao bello...welcome- all scream more or less together.

I’m a bit embarrassed but answer back – hello everyone-

Thank god they were all a bit tipsy and get fast back to their conversation, losing interest in me.

Peter asked –sorry are you from?-

-Italy-

-ah, right, well last time we met I got a bit drunk and forgot some “details”...eheheh-

-no problem, man, I was drunk too-

-I believe, and what brings you here in Lisbon?-

-I’m working in a call center, to pay the rent, but I actually studied literature, and the idea is to write a book made of stories of people that moved to Lisbon, from different countries, with different backgrounds.-

-You arrived in the right place-

- Seems like-

-We are all foreigners, all doing different stuff, I’m studying architecture, did I tell you?-

-Yeah, I sort of remember-

-and this is my flatmate, Josha, German too-

-Hey Josha, nice to meet you, Marco- Josha looks exactly as a German should be looking like. Blond, tall, blue eyes, nice clean face, great smile.

-hey man, welcome to the sub-cave, wanna a beer?-

Are they trying to get me drunk?

-Got one already, thanks, what are you doing here in the city?-

-I’m erasums, studying economics, surfing, enjoying the sun, living fucking well, as all of us-

I laugh –yeah, well, for me is a bit more difficult, gotta work-

-I know, soon, and what are you doing?-

-you know, I work in communication, Teleperformance-

I can read on his face he knows what I’m talking about.

-Call fucking center?-

-hahaha, yes, call”fuck it” center-

Said that he turned and kept on talking with the person on his other side.

Fuck. Am I so boring? Oooh well, again alone, everyone talking each other, nobody worrying about me.

I’ll go to explore the rest of the house, looking for new friends, looking for the “crazy” one.

I entered in the kitchen and there is him, pouring drinks.

-GIN TOOONIC- He screamed – who wanna a giiiin tooonic?-

I’m fast and said.

-I can get one-

He looked at me trying to remember my face and with the same tone or louder

– YAAAMMAAAAAN, take it, buuuut, WHO the FUCK are You?-

He seemed aggressive, but the smile on his face tells that is joking.

-I’m Marco, Peter invited me for a drink-

Still yelling –YAMMAAAAAAAN, welcome, take a joint and get drunk-

He passed me a spliff and disappeared in another conversation, clearly drunk, but this time, almost friendly.

I kept the night going on, knowing other people, another, even moooore crazy person, Alan (but he is completely another story), lot’s of Brazilians, many beautiful girls.

More gin-tonic.

Got completely drunk and stoned. Don’t remember much more. In a certain moment, everyone was, sort of, playing music, dancing, singing. Everyone damnly loud.

...me. Puking in the street. Alone. FUCKED.

The day after the hangover was strong. Don’t remember how many gin-tonics, beers, glasses of wine, neither how I reached the bed.

Lot’s of confused images in my head. Faces. Memories. Dreams.

What a fuck was yesterday night?

So much happened, so little left.

But WOOOOW. That is a “secret door”. Have to go back there.

Hopefully, in the afternoon someone is gonna still be sober.

Few days passed. The idea stayed. Let’s do IT. Today. I feel lucky and I remember the address. GO.

And, as I was hoping, just a few meters before the door, there is him.

The “different” one, with a dog, a basset hound. Both funny looking.

-Eh, you-

He looked at me like he just saw a ghost. Clearly, he didn’t recognize me.

-I’m Marco, I was in your place few days ago, crazy shit man, I love your house-

-Aaaah, cheers. Have to admit I don’t remember you but I’m happy you had a good night-

-I don’t remember much either-

-As usually. FUCKED. Ahahahah-

-hahaha, yes-

-Well, I’m going to have a walk with Leopoldo- pointing at the dog – wanna join?-

I immediately accepted and as we started walking he asked me.

-aaaand, what doing in Lisbon? Where from? Shit like that-

I told him my story but from the word call-center, he seemed annoyed until I said the word book-

-a book? Are you writing too?-

Too? I’m confused. This guy, gin-tonic screamer, fucked up looking is writing? Must be trash, but I like trash too, so I asked.

-What are you writing about?-

-hahaha, is a complicated story-

-What about?-

-My life-

-hahahahahaha, I bet is complicated-

-You would win-

-Do you wanna publish?-

-I really don’t think anyone would be able to read it. Is written in three languages, super fast, confused. I also sometimes, reading back, don’t understand what I was thinking about.

Is strange, sort of a diary. To publish I would need a person following, writing, while I try to remember the stories-

-Fuck man. Is our lucky day, I can do it-

Seemed like thinking, then looking deeply into my eyes asked, scaring me a bit.

-Who the fuck are you? I woke up this morning thinking I would need an editor to explain and clean up the all mess of words, aaaaaand you arrived? Who the fuck sent you? Where is the camera?-

Confusion, scare, happiness and un-understanding scrolling on his face.

-Maybe God sent me to you-

-Maybeeeeee???, for sure,

well, nice to meet you bro, I’m Ame, the lucky bastard-

Finally got the name.

-Nice way to introduce yourself, why lucky? Why bastard?- (4

-hahahahaha, well, lucky cause you won’t believe my life, bastard cause...he is thinking...

cause you have to be a bit of an asshole if you wanna be me, hahahaha-

I didn’t really understand his joke but started laughing with him.

He kept on uttering, God knows what thinking about.

-hahahaha, anyway why not?-

-What why not?

-Do you wanna listen to a fucked up story? AHAHAAHAHA-

This time is the only one laughing, didn’t get it.

-Yeah man, sure I’m curious, whenever you want-

-No, whenever you want, I’m home doing nothing in these next days, weeks. Smoking, partying, chilling.

Living the life like is stolen-

-How do we meet for this “reading”? Can I add you on Facebook? What’s app?-

-FUCK TECHNOLOGY, just ring the bell, sure I’ll be there-

Then, in a sort of theatrical movement, blowed his smoke on me, rolled his scarf around his neck, changed direction and disappeared, with his dog behind, into the people, into the streets.

What the fuck just happened? I didn’t even have the time to ask for his job, nationality. Was all way too fast.

But, well, I thought I, sort of, arranged an appointment. Not sure.

What to do? I’ll go back again.

And again, there was him, in front of his door, seemed like waiting for somebody.

From his expression this time he recognized me.

-You are the guy who is gonna write my book

-hahaha, hello Ame, yes, Marco, how are you doing?-

-All good baby baby, are you ready to listen to a crazy story?-

He seemed accelerated.

-Yes, sure, that was the idea-

-Do you know why are you here? Can you feel it? Is finally arriving to an end-

What the hell is he talking about? -sorry, but I don’t understand, what is gonna end?-

He then started speaking by himself, in his own scarf, trying, but not trying, to keep the voice low.

-I knew that. Fucking landscape, they don’t have it, they know nothing-

-Sorry, what?-

-Ah, no, wasn’t for you, is only that in these days the position of the stars, the wish of God, is in the air, the end of this damn circle, do you know? The connections, something is happening, I can feel it-

I interrupted him.

-I’m completely atheist, believing only in what I can see, touch and explain-

With a sad face, he replied.

-Oh, sorry for you, sure if you stay around me for a while, you will understand that there is much more of what you can feel with your seances-

He seemed convinced, so I faked to believe.

-Ok, ok, you will be able to convert my faith- I told him giggle-ling.

-Are you laughing? I don’t give a fuck what do you think. DON’T FUCK WITH ME, neither GOD, you are too normal to understand-

Oh shit, I pissed him off.

-FUCK YOU- now screaming even loather. -If you don’t believe me go back to your shit country, nobody asked you to come, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE-

I started trying to apologize, nothing. His keys in the lock, 3,2,1. Closed door on my face.

WOOOOW, that was insane, I thought on my way back home, there are two completely different personalities living in the same body. Not nice to deal with the second one, but I’m more and more curious to read his mind.

Decided anyway to let days pass with the certain idea to meet him, maybe in a public space, got a bit scared to stay alone with him.

Couldn’t stop thinking about him, and, as in my dreams, there was him. In the morning.

I noticed his dog walking around the garden, he was there, taking a coffee with a friend.

Perfect. I ordered mine and got closed to their table. They were speaking loud, so, a bit intimidated I asked for a chair.

He recognized me immediately.

-hahahahahah, sorry bro, I freaked out last time, sit with us, please-

I took a place at the table.

Also the friend looked strange. Tall, mess up hairs, wired hat...a funny character. Seemed friendly. I introduced myself.

-Hey, man, I’m Marco-

-hahahahahah, this is the looser you scared?

Thanks for the looser.

They both started laughing, way too loud, making fun of me. What a great welcome.

-oh sorry, no loser, I mean, I don’t know...look at you-

-AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH- even loather. Motherfuckers.

Passed awhile -hahahahah, ok, hahaha, ok, ok, sorry again, yes, Ame told me he lost his temperament with you, you have to apologize him, he is a bit wild sometimes-

-I noticed. I was confused-

-Sorry bro, you know, I drunk something before we meet. With glasses, I get irritated easily-

-No problem, we all lose our marbles sometimes-

Not as you, I thought, but now was smiling. Good sign.

-Again, sorry, next time I promise I’ll try my best to stay calm-

Alright, there is a next time, he still wanted it.

-You can try a bit earlier, around lunchtime, I’m usually awake and more friendly-

He smiled at me and change immediately the expression, staring seriously into my eyes.

-And now, get the fuck out of here, my bro just arrived for a visit and we have about too many stories to tell-

The tall guy, offering me his hand -I’m Yanny, by the way...and now, as Ame said, do us the favor of disappearing-

-Ok, ok, guys, got the message, you need your solo time-

Shot my coffee in a sip, stood up.

-Sooo, see you soon-

-Are you still here? Go away, see you never again, looser-

They screamed at me as I turned my back.

Bastards. But fucking interesting bastards. I wanted more.

I waited three days and back to the door. I rung the bell.

Someone opens. Direction down.

On the bottom of the stairs was him.

-Yaaaaamaaaan, I was waiting for you- He seemed happy to see me. Good.

The two dogs arrived behind.

-Leopoldo, you know already, my bro, and this is Sounder, the lady of Alan, did you meet him already?

He is craaaazy, man, my soulmate.

-Ehi Ame, how are you?- giving him my hand.

-Oh, yes, sorry bro, I’m fast, all good and you?-

-Doing well, really curious to read your stuff I have to admit-

-hehe heh, you will love it, I promise-

We moved in the living-room, WOOW, now, sober, I noticed the all ambient.

Full of paintings, surfs hanging, a wall made of bottles, books, a plant in a toilet, strong smell of hashish.

Dirty but welcoming. Lived let’s say.

We set on the sofa.

He stood up immediately, went into a room, and back with a couple of notebooks in his hands.

-This is the shit, bro-

He passed me the diaries.

WOOOOW, seems like he worked a lot on those pieces of paper.

-Ok, I explain you...all of it is what I lived the last 6 months. My idea is to read,

understand and explain to you. Your job is to re-elaborate and giving it a structure-

Didn’t really get what he wants from me. -Sorry, what?-

He started to seems disappointed.

-Bro, easy for you. I tell you a story, you record my voice, write it down. BOOOOOM, book written, we get rich and famous. No more bullshit-

I didn’t really get how, but the dream of some money and something to do instead of only answering a phone sounded accativating.

-Man, you seem like knowing what to do, I like your plan, convinced. Let’s do it-

-YAMAAAAAN-