The city that never sleeps....

New York is just incredible. The energy of this city, its vibrancy, its beat, is unbelievable. It has a rhythm of its own. And a life of its own.

NY feels like a living creature--breathing, slowly moving or spinning around in frenzy.

There is no place that compares to NY. There are places that are stunning, unforgettable, breath-taking. Places that leave a mark on your skin, within your soul. But the city that never sleeps does more than that. There is just nothing like it.

When I was a teenager, wanting to study hotel management, I wrote in an essay that I would be the manager of the Waldorf Astoria. Today I went to the W.A., to an MDG-related brunch. I took in the surroundings, the luxury, the pedantic bell boys, the golden mirrors... And I felt happy about having kissed good-bye that dream a long, long time ago.

Breaking...

I have been home for a week and a half now, but will leave tomorrow again, towards NY. I thought that by this moment, I would feel in a not so dark place. But it is not really getting any better. The slope is still downwards.

As a result, the question keeps coming back, taking my sleep, filling the corners of my mind with anxiety: What is the purpose of all this? Is it worth it? Am I on the right path?

Or am I just the shadow of what I could be... That is the most persistent doubt. I want to expand, explode. Go farther, go to extremes... I feel like a fading flower.

Geneva it is...

I can't believe it, but this is the final stop before going home.

Delhi was a big success!!! And for a change, I actually liked India!!! A dear friend told me: you have to ignore your first ten impressions of India, just stick to the eleventh one. You will see the beauty. It worked. Thank you.

Now, after more travel, more planes, and more insomnia, I am back in the old continent. And I have only one day and two nights left!!!

ALMOST. GOING. HOME.

Slowly descending into darkness...

That is what it feels like. And I know that it is not real. It is an hallucination of my sleep-deprived mind.

But it feels like the real thing. It feels like if I was back in one of those very dark places where I used to dwell, where windows are out of reach, and light has been forever shunned.

It is only 6 pm in Delhi. If I fall asleep now, I will again be up for the whole night.

This is one of the hardest things of the fucking path I am on. What the hell am I doing here? Is there really a purpose? Or does the apparent absence of purpose, once you can't sleep, actually underscore that there is no such purpose in reality?

This sounds bad. But still, there is this huge difference--I know that it sounds bad. And I know that it is an illusion of my exhaustion.

Just sharing a glimpse of this insanity... Reaching out.

And Delhi came even sooner...

OK. I have arrived in Delhi. This is the fourth country, starting with Mexico, that I am touching in a week's time. The chicken says that this is the ultimate Rock Star World Tour--I call it the Monster Tour, as opposed to Gaga's Monster Ball. Hehe. But I am fully dressed whenever I make public appearances!

What happened in London? Well, it was by far less eventful than expected. But, it was interesting to sit there, with irrefutable evidence about the way in which governments disregard their citizens, face to face with some high ranking UN officials, who were saying "we empower the people to hold governments accountable".

You know....??? NO!

Don't give us that bullshit! If the UN claims to empower the people, then we understand why this world is so fucked up, why the huge majority of people are powerless, excluded, discriminated against and pushed into fucking oblivion! (This is the Rock Star speaking)

PASSION. We need MORE of it. We need it NOW.

London came to soon...

...embedded in the unavoidable hallucination that seems to be the by-product of jet lag. I can't sleep. And, for a change, this time I was not able to sleep on the plane coming here, either.

Whenever insomnia comes back, I can't help to think about some of the first lines of "The Fight Club", where Edward Norton says something like "insomnia is like never being completely asleep and never being completely awake". Honestly, I fail to grasp how I spent long decades of my life with acute insomnia. Sleep deprivation is, for certain, one of the most efficient ways of torture.

And here I am, in (not rainy but indeed windy) London, sleepless.

Thinking.
Floating.
Imagining.

Too many ideas and presences in my half awake-half asleep mind and body.

Time to turn off the computer and give it another try.

Mmmmmmmontreal, good bye...

... I am about to fly.

This was my first stop in what seems to be a challenging World Tour. First, Montreal. Then, London--with the promises of meeting big, big names that I will feel intimidated by, like Amartya Sen. New Delhi follows--with its merciless heat, buzz, relentless motion. Last, Geneva--the opposite (booooooooring!) But also, great great minds.

Montreal was sweet... A delicious dessert to gain strength before a hard couple of weeks up in the air. (Logic would mandate dessert to come afterwards, but here, the order of the factors did indeed change the result). A beautiful town, a beautiful evening, excellent company and a superb death by chocolate. I refuse to start thinking about rainy London, until I get out of the next plane...