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amalgama
THE RLD (the truth about the ridicule and a way to justify a miracle)

It must have been nine-and-a-half years ago; perhaps ten-and-a-half years – if you’d forget to count the celibacy – I’ve been dwelling at the RLD. It’s been a long journey of rising and falling that has taken me around the forgotten remains of destiny. What first started as a belated way to deal with a heart-break and an unexpected romantic mind-trick that I should’ve been able to anticipate, soon led me into losing myself to the joys of mental release and hedonism.  

The imminent confrontation with my inner-self and the intellectual powers I’d suddenly been endowed with, resulted seven months later in a psychosis. Initially induced by a heavy overdose of mushrooms, this event marked an era of paranoia and enquiry, in which both the exploration of sexuality and the mere act of “dwelling around the area” would serve as a catalyst for expanding my consciousness to the max.

It would’ve been perhaps much wiser and reasonable to choose a different path in life, but the fates had determined that I would spend the following decade roaming around those streets without a specific purpose. There were periods when I’d seen the light, but then again; they hardly ever lasted long enough to keep me from falling back into bad old habits.


Days would go by, as I’d learn to break out of my shell of shyness and expel doubt from the paradigm, exposing myself to an overload of external stimuli and learning how to deal with the metaphysical and undesirable double-talk; all for the sake of wisdom. It wasn’t easy. It’d often be hard enough to choose between the starved Lestat and the fed-up Louis –archetypes, perhaps because within me the little whimsical Claudia was being engendered; then again, the lessons I’d been acquiring throughout my training would turn me stronger and much more determined to hold on to my faith.

What had once assisted my anointment and induction to the other side, soon became the reason I was now able to live in the present and deal with reality. It took about five years before I’d learn how to control such magnificence and harness it, as to help me achieve the goals that I’d projected. It would have been easy to quit any time, but the possibility of seeing the love of my life again, with to her unrecognizable self-control and a set of newly-acquired psychic abilities would be enough stimulus to stay.


Throughout those years, I saw myself turn from a frustrated little nimrod that loved to question everyone’s intentions into a free-spirited elf that hardly ever had trouble accepting life’s blessings, as they were served to him on a platter. I know that many must wonder why a guy like me would choose to waste his youth in the company of the most un-appreciated creatures representing society; how I’d be able to greet them all as my own sisters and seal it with formalities like a kiss on the hand, whilst always keeping eye-contact and hardly ever feeling the need to stare at their bodies – I’m pretty sure the answer won’t please their ears, even if they had been there already.

Many people wonder indeed if I’m just a crazy Indian that loves to dwell in the Red Light.

They’d say I was there to deal drugs because of my looks and heritage, because I’d been foolish enough to open up to everybody; that I’d been doing crack with street-musicians because I enjoyed their music, because I wasn’t the renegade they’d been expecting, but…

It’s simpler than it looks.  


There comes a time when you finally take off your glasses and care to be appreciative for beauty and the real attributes it has to offer. You may say denial is hard when you can’t get enough of something, but the truth is it doesn’t take much to make me happy. 

Our perception of life defines our level of gratitude and the manner by which we choose to deliver love. The fact is that I know there’s an entity of control that hates me for this, and would actually do anything in order to see me fall; perhaps so I don’t earn my place in heaven, or so that others could cash-in a fortune up there.

It doesn’t matter.


What truly matters is that one is capable of achieving happiness in even the darkest corners of this planet, and doesn’t need anyone else to tell him if he’s right or wrong in doing so; most likely because we’ve been blessed with the precious gift of free-will. In all certainty, one could call it a miracle if he was ever to feel true love; and to be able to witness it everyday should only be defined by us as a fortunate blessing. Rest assured, appreciation doesn’t mean much, if there’s no good intention behind to motivate it.


If you don’t get what I’m saying, it’s probably because you haven’t been there, or even care to. You may try to follow my foot-steps, or even quote me during an evening party; but please don’t be too cocky to claim that an Indian like me couldn’t have been through all this and then have the intellect to come up with his own original words to define it.


-Allan P. M. Málaga aka. Amalgama
(14-02-2018)

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