The day after the snow starts. Not really snow, sleet one might say, but falls in a continuous succession. It's almost relaxing to see her fall. Let's go to breakfast. There are all the other guests, have a Venetian accent but not all. There are also foreigners and I feel more in tune with them, we are in the same situation as outsiders. Comforts me a bit '. I eat with do not eat things that taste ever. Butter, marmalade, orange juice. Normally I never do breakfast, but in this case I have a great pleasure. We finish breakfast and get out. We have umbrellas and cold is all around us. The traffic of people has increased since the night. It seems all the same people but I have no eye for the differences. But to hear them talk you understand who they are, tourists, the tides of tourists, all the offspring and body types. The Venetians are not, the ways they do not have the same appeal. In an attempt to orient a map but we have our walk is still complicated. The map almost flies off the wind. I'm a little unnerving to me, I begin to have repulsion. Francesca is rather quiet and walk following the instinct. I follow no attention to where you go and as far as I'm concerned we may lose. Our goal is S. Marco and it seems that we approach. Some people painted on the face, there are also masks. But these people are not in a significant number. The fact that I like to let me go with the flow. You do not need a goal, everything is new and everything can be a goal. I do not know practically nothing of Venice, nothing of its history or culture. I was never informed. But this is not a problem. I do not want to know anything, anything said or written. I try to get me through his soul. Still can not help but look, in spite of all the things I get nervous and weakens. Francesca is busy with his thoughts. He listens with little attention. It seems anything but careful. Maybe she can get through the soul of the city. I envy you but I would also like to talk even if I do not know what. Keep walking, is the only sure thing. Everything looks the same to me, because the same again. Only through experience one can notice the difference. For me it's all a set, an agglomeration. All uniform and still fascinates me. But the trip is not only doing my mind. Well my body has something. I look a bit 'round, from all sides. Find something that gratifies me eyes. I find it more attractive abroad, I would stop them and get acquainted. But Frank, with its incessant flow dragging me and I do not have much time to think about how to gratify my body and my repressed sexual desire. Climb on a bridge larger than the others. It is also the most famous, I think it's called the Rialto Bridge. Stands above the channel wider. It is an attraction but I do not care. I acknowledge that I have no instinct as a tourist, does not affect me at all everything that affects the other. Francesca asks me: "Then why did you come to nothing if you do not care?", "I can not say, do not understand it either, maybe they are not cut out for the trip. At least, the thing that I do not want it to be a Tourists, it seems so trivial. But I think this is the only way to travel. Or at least the only one I can think of. " After a while, 'that we are on the bridge Francesca decides that he is cold. Below is dressed only in a skirt and heavy socks." I should have put his pants. "I will I agree. He says he would like to return to the hotel to change. It tells me that if I want to go it alone, give me the map and then joins me. Even with the map I miss the security of the idea and I do not like it. So I tell her that her return to the hotel. The return is not less difficult the first leg. We stop often to check the map. We do some load speed, a whole back and forth and I go crazy and curse this cesspool of the city. However after a while 'is the right way. We return to hotel and go to your room. "I should rest a bit, 'I'm tired," I say as a lament. Francesca is fine. Then he proposes to smoke salvia that we bought before leaving. I say yes. Then I start to prepare for it seems impatient with Francesca bonga smoking. Then smoke at the window to avoid creating too much stink in the room. If it falls and sits on his bed. He tells me that did not give a good effect, is not satisfied. Then I start to prepare for me. I go to the window and began to smoke. Before the smoke build-up, then do the last shot strong. Only I'm wrong, do not hold my smoke. The effect of this is poor. I just feel some pinch arms and nothing else. Last time I smoked salvia I liked more, I was feeling slightly more fluid, the sensations were new and strange. So I do not feel satisfied and I want to try again. Bonga prepare another and this time the smoke for good. Close the window and I sit on the bed. Now it's different, it seems the right feel. But this is the last thing I think and I know that thinking. Then everything is outdated no longer see my reality. The sounds are repeated, no longer in control ears, do what they want. Lose control of everything and it's scary, I forget things and the time and space is as if the glass breaks. The images I will crush your face the time and wants nothing to stand still. It's like a frame that I repeated slaps. And I do not know how to stop the ride, it's all a carousel. I am terrified of being stuck in this place and do not know how I got there. I think I see some red gondolas and I think that there are other people. On one of the gondolas and the eighteenth century there is a lady I do not know who he is and I think I laugh at him. I have the strange feeling that it's all advertising for the supermarket. I do everything to free, otherwise I know I will die or go mad or completely. But still, the continuous vortex, can not remember but maybe it was filled with images flickering, smoky lines without substance, and everything was current and flow. I am terrified. Cry or at least I think I just scream. Then he begins to liberarmisi sight. I see Frank looking at me weird. Holds out his hand and I grabbed it with great effort, to try to stop me and I took the vortex. She tries to talk but I can not stand it. Listening to it makes me crazy. But I hold your hand and try to contain the feelings. The senses seem to come back in their place. I try to speak to explain the explosion that took me but I have problems in articulating words, stumble on the tongue. I do not feel any physical pain, there is only the absolute confusion and violence. I also take a sweltering heat, I try to take off my clothes. I try to lie down on the bed but I can not sit still. However, the violence fades and I begin to calm down. I see everything as I remembered and I am reminded that I had smoked. I had completely forgotten. Now I take the urgent need to explain, trying to describe. I try to put into words but I understand that it is inadequate. I do confused, passionate, I've got to make it clear that happened to me. "My common sense tells me not to touch the sage," I say to Frank, "and I'd be more comfortable if you do not even touch you." It's real concern, I want you to feel the same. Almost beg to throw the remaining sage, I do not want to be touched more. keep talking and it's nice to hear that the effect is going away. Now I'm free and healthy, almost happy. Francesca by his telling me what he saw outside and it is curious to know nothing. She says she felt a little 'guilty because he could not help me. And I am grateful they are. For now I prefer to stay in the room, I do not want to go out, I'm afraid of my possible reactions outdoors. They spend a bit 'of minutes and eventually returned to normal and peaceful. I say we go out and breathe the air.
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