The lost haired, the long-haired, the bearded, and the massive in love.

What is Bohemia in terms of existence?

You know the classic novel Pinocchio. I don’t believe in the teachings of a popular guru in the fitness world who claimed that Pinocchio, which means “eye of pine” in Italian, is actually referring to the pineal gland.

Demented.

Horrendously improvised.

Obviously opposite of what I call positive grounds.

As someone who speaks Italian fluently, I can confirm that Pinocchio’s author chose his name as a humorous way to introduce a story about transformation, isolation, excess, success, and manifestation.

For those who read it, there’s probably no way to find in it excess and isolation, but it is not my place to tell.

I’m among the luckiest who discovered the psychedelics in Alice in Wonderland. You need to be lucky to understand, culture is not enough, unfortunately.

The bald pilgrim who saw in the white rabbit the little credit of the minuscule man addicted to the speed of nothing. I understood Anneliese Michel as a victim of the Vatican, such as Emanuela Orlandi.

We need to talk about it because we made bohemia something more modern and less passive as just a gypsy thing.

We are gypsies.

We are predicting, we’re listening to the percussion, and we know the beat.

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