The Legendary Puntozenon
Fuck Ayuhasca. Fuck magic mushrooms. Fuck LSD. I don’t need all that crap. My friends say I should do weed more often, it would relax me and increase my stamina with da gurrlz, more than booze. But I don’t know.
I did coke once. Wasn’t as cool as people said. I didn’t become the superkoolest guy of the party that talks to everyone and gets laid af.
Friend of mine told me that he knows as guy who went on MDMA at a party in Berlin and he felt so One With Everything And Anybody that he ended up giving a deep throat blow job to a guy with a 24 cm penis.
That’s not my world. My parents were hippies. I inhaled stuff already as as baby, they took me with them everywhere. They even chose my name after that famous American psychedelic drug pope.
That was weird and distorted my thinking on many levels. Which is the reason why I was blind for so many years and now here to write about it. But I also want to tell you how I got my eyes opened and able to dissect my mistakes in hindsight.
So here’s the first case I remember where I was a total blind dork and know today, this could of been a notch count for sure. As a matter of fact, my very first one.
Why I’m so sure about it? Well, Puntozenon told me. And Puntozenon is always right. I met that guy in a dive bar that had seen its best times long ago, during my in Buenos Aires. He was a strange acquaintance but I felt he had something to say, introducing himself as a musician and programmer. Ah, and a poet, which goes along well with the musician and hence his strange name. After some banter and the first round of Jack Daniels, we got into the general topic of women after I briefly mentioned the last girl I had fallen in love with, dated twice (café and the expensive Italian restaurant) and—never seen again.
He was interested to hear more of my failures. That surprised me at first because he as a musician performing on stage for sure did not have that problem with women. It turned out each of us had had almost identical experiences, despite being from different continents and cultures. We both had found Hermann Hesse’s Unterm Rad when alone abroad. The little book left the same deep impression in both of us.
Long story short, more JDs were downed until the bar owner kicked us out at 4am. We met again, a friendship developed. And within a few weeks time, Puntozenon helped me to see, more than any psychedelic substance ever could.