SPCC A Casa Amarela

the concert and party was great. the workshop had many attendants (about 20 people i think), many more than i expected. same thing with the movie, but unfortunately there were no people around to moderate the debate, so not much of a debate happened.

as for the concerts, they were great, nothing failed exceptionally (just the usual chaos of concerts), no failed electricity, no failed bar supplies. everyone at the house, once they started seeing the things getting done, realized what it was going to be, so they asked sorry and made up. the stage also got moderately destroyed. it ended, obviously, with the police shutting it down with guns. overall, there were 15 calls that night. i guess the "neighborhood" doesn't like us (big surprise).

i was also very happy with the bar behavior. no money was lost and all the money was divided with reasonable and just rules. it was also clear who were the people who wanted to participate and work for the house.

overall, there were maybe 170 people at the house plus bands and friends. on the chill out area, vegetarian dumpstered food was given away (donation based), and the entry was also donation based.

i was wrong on the behavior part. everyone made up and there were no conflicts. the conflicts were only behind the scenes, but those are part of our every day. as for the organizers, i think they were very happy with the result.

as for the day after, well, that's where i think we're not dealing with a constructive scene, and especially, now with the demolition coming, there's no more care for what we built. we got up early to start moving our stuff to another place, and when we came back, someone (i think O) had spent a lot of time throwing our furniture out the window. what the fuck. he broke a lot of stuff that was not only useful, but made with care by T. this lead to a final decision of abandoning the house. we took the rest of our stuff and left. nobody showed up to clean, in fact, since T stopped cleaning last week, dog shit started piling up to a point where the stink is unbearable. the fabric walls are torn, pissed on and broken. there is broken glass and broken furniture everywhere. stuff is now being stolen too (that's why i moved out). my aria bass is gone (if everyone sees a punk with a jazz aria bass, like this one but matte gray, you know where he got it), with some tools and electronics stuff. a lot of stuff was taken from the free shop, but that's fine, that's what a free shop is.

in the morning, there were still passed out punks on the floor. i think that's a great symbol of the decadence that is going on now.

once me and T stopped providing and nurturing, everybody started moving on. i think they found another squat, and wish them all the best. what i don't really enjoy is how i was made a fool all the time i was providing for the building.

everyone compliments me and thanks me, because i provide. once i go to work, everyone makes fun of me and insults me behind my back. these are the same people you (audience) complimented at the squat. me and T, who built this with help of many of our guests and mostly against the punks that lived with us, are being removed from the story progressively, and demonized for our openness and up front opinions.

essentially, everyone makes up a story where they are the leading character with super hero qualities and everyone else is just someone that stands in their way. it's easy to point out flaws in others, and i'm just as guilty of that. but i want everyone to understand that i don't see myself as a hero in any of this, and that the facts alone are enough for everyone to decide who and what made things work, and didn't.

there is very little "us" in what we do. the words we use, the clothes, the houses, the air we breathe and the animals and plants we eat, they are all here outside and beyond us. in us is just a tiny story and representation of a bigger "we". the only way to honor this "we" is to understand that it requires stories too. and it requires being a villain in some stories, a hero in others, but overwhelmingly, unknown, uninteresting or entirely invisible and unknown.

to cope with this fact, people choose to abandon truth and facts and believe they are better, or super. every single person that abused our place had this feature. and the more fucked up the situation, the bigger disconnect from reality.

have no doubt or uncertainty. ignorance is not bliss, drugs do not make you happy, living on the street is no fun. it means a fucked up life of permanent depression, violence, and inability to deal with aversion. small happy moments are all that is achievable. drugs, concerts, easy fixes for someone escaping the hard facts of life. life is beautiful, but only if you are open enough to allow its complexity to overwhelm you. most street life isn't for the search of truth and enlightenment, it is a permanent battle for sufficiency and inconsequential indulgence.

if you choose to think you can understand and predict everything, you will be acting like a super hero. "i know", "i will", etc, etc. i heard countless conversations from fucked up punks saying they would've done a much better job at SPCC. maybe it's true. but the guys who did it were nowhere to be found, and mostly, working during the concerts.

people talk too much and do too little. too much about how awesome they are, how amazing the things they did and will do are, yet everyone reverts to the same selfish, egocentric chimp every time. and the few workers that supply for everyone else are nowhere to be found and honored.

we are better than this. but we cannot educate brainwashed adults, and children educated better would only be trampled by the current system. that's why i'm no longer doing any mandalas with social centers as a central part. there is little to no possibility for regeneration. most violent and abusive patterns are too ingrained and require full professional help. but since everyone is the "hero", they won't ask for help. the only people we could help were the humble homeless people that got fucked over by life. not the arrogant street punks. these, unfortunately, are just another stereotype of a decadent post post modern west.

it's not that i don't like the people i lived with. i do. but i do not want to coexist and support people that make fun of me behind my back, when i'm feeding them every day. i'm done with it. i'm done with exploitation. it's as if it's becoming human nature to exploit.

ideologically, there are many things to be taken from this. but it will leave the courses of action for later. for now, we have a mandala to finish and clean up. join us and make it beautiful.

godspeed starstuff ☆★☆☆★★★☆☆☆☆☆