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Anthony T. Hincks

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“At one particular moment, with my eyes closed, I was crying and asking the question over and over aloud, „Does true love exist? Does true love exist in girls? Does true love exist? Does Sabrina love me? Does true love exist? Does true love exist?” - I had suddenly seen a flash. As if I was poking the Devil in the dark, staring too long into the darkness until it looked back at me as they say. I have never told anyone about this before. I try to describe what I had seen that night in that windowless, dark, and cold place deep inside under that big, old building, with my eyes closed. It made a half turn, flashing one of its eyes at me for a moment before disappearing again into the dark. As if it was nodding to me, I still get goosebumps years later when I try to describe it. As if it had been standing there all along, and just tried to reassure me that it had heard my question and would answer. Quite close. Just to make me be quiet finally. His eyes were yellow and red. I'm not actually sure if it had two eyes; I only saw one of them. One Evil Eye. Perhaps he had lost an eye, that's why I had seen the light of only one of them. His eye was malicious, but not particularly. It was more tired and angry yet understanding, as if he had heard this question over a billion times before from fools like me and I did not amuse him with my question and demand. As if he was about to show me a trick he had known for a long time. As if Satan had seen it all already. He knows all the tricks, he invented them, he inspired them all. As if he was bored of humanity already. (There is only One Evil Eye. The planet Saturn.) I was cuddling with Adam's cat, crying a lot, asking the darkness, about Love, and reflecting on Sabrina. Perhaps it was merely an optical illusion. I leave it up to the reader to decide what they believe about what I was facing and how I miraculously survived, as an atheist goy, as well as who truly supported me throughout the ordeal. If anyone or anything supported me in Spain at all. I had seen an advertisement somewhere saying that Miss Kittin would be playing on Saturday night, November 16th, 2013 in Barcelona at The Marhes. Satan. Saturn. Saturday. Coincidence? Maybe. So far. Perhaps. I knew I had to see her again after such a long time; she had been playing drum and bass in the early 2000s across the globe, and also in Budapest. I checked the map; The Marhes was next to Camp Nou, the FC Barcelona stadium. I thought of buying a bottle of champagne, which I didn't like, unless it’s Italian, but I wanted to celebrate, and I would walk along Avenida Roma to get there straight. I knew I'd get drunk; I didn't want to drive, I wanted to arrive intoxicated. I re-posted the Miss Kittin party’s flyer, on Instagram, writing underneath it : ‘All roads lead to Rome.”

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Book:BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
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“One of those days we were in Maria Vostra getting weed; while we were sitting at the bar during some festive day—I think it was Three Kings' arrival in January—Marco, the 30 some years old Argentine founding member of that club and probably the kindest of the three, received a phone call from Buenos Aires. I didn't understand it much, nor did I pay too much attention, but the tall Marco, who was usually in a great mood, suddenly ran out of the bar crying after one or two minutes. Martina told me she heard him speaking in Rioplatense on the phone. Marco's best friend had been shot dead in broad daylight in Buenos Aires at the same time; in front of her seven-year-old daughter. He had been shot five times in the chest because a thief had tried to steal his scooter and he had tried to stop them; they then shot him dead and took off with his scooter. We were shocked, at least Marco and I while I tried to hide it - but Martina, who was only 20, wasn't. “That's how poor people are in Argentina, Tomas,” she said, pointing to her lips with her pinky as if it was a known secret. She wasn't fazed by death. I failed to realize what that meant. She must have seen people die before we met. Perhaps I was blindfolded because I had been with Sabrina, whom I knew had something to do with Timothy's death and had gotten away with it, leaving Canada - I was unsure as to when she left exactly, and why - and why she was really unable to visit little Joel in Canada. I was also aware that Adam had not been to Israel for over 10 years, probably because he had murdered someone or done something similar when he was younger. Perhaps I had become too accustomed to the presence of bad people; perhaps they had all become too familiar to me after all, two years after I had first met Sabrina, one year after I had first met Adam, and living in Barcelona for one and a half years at that time. “A scooter worth 200-300 Euros is such a great value there, imagine Tomas. It's so dangerous and poor country” she said. A few times in Urgell, Martina made a joyful noise of 'Oyyy', but she stopped because I laughed and she never said it again, no matter how much I asked her to. Perhaps the presence of the Polish workers at the other end of the place had something to do with it. Gucho and Damian spent time with us in the kitchen-living room area every night. We ate, we smoked, and we had a great time together. They were skilled at smoking out of a bowl to get the most from the least weed. I registered Martina at Club Marley, so if she was in the center and needed weed, she wouldn't have to go all the way up to Maria Vostra, a block from Urgell. Club Marley was mostly run by Argentine people, so I thought she would like them too. One of those nights I was sitting in Club Marley at a table with Martina. When she went to the bathroom, an elder dispensary budtender I knew, who I met daily, told me that he didn't want to be rude, but: “Be very, very careful with this girl, Tomas. With Latinas, there is love sweeter than honey and all you ever dreamed of, but it only lasts as long as you are successful as you are right now, as long as you’re the manager.” I said “thank you” and I meant it, but I had no time to reflect on it because he had to go. Martina was suddenly in my mind and by my side again: in love. I thought, “Yes, the guy may be right, but I trust Martina and have no reason not to.” I knew I was broke and I knew that Martina knew that too. Even though I was a manager and seemed successful to my customers, it did not make me rich yet nor was it the reason to make Martina want to be with me. I believe he must have caught sight of her looking at me or at another man when I wasn't paying attention. To me, she was one of a kind. I trusted her deeply and even told her about the guy's warning regarding Latinas. She showed no reaction. I didn't notice or pay attention to the fact that Martina never set foot in Club Marley again.”

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Book:BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
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“She had always told me stories about how poor a country Argentina was, being the reason for her girlfriend, Caterina, to move to Spain, which she said was the 13th richest country on the planet. Perhaps Martina's perception of Spain itself was crooked or surrealistic. She didn't realize that the country might be the 13th richest country in the world, but Spain was seriously broke and the people were desperately impoverished since 2007, the economic crisis had never ended, yet Martina seemed oblivious to all that. In her eyes, Spain was a rich country compared to Argentina. Martina perceived Europe and its various nationalities and countries in a surrealistic way, removed from reality; as if all Europeans were the same and equally trustworthy, just like non-Europeans in Spain, and she could not distinguish between people or groups of people coming from different places, with no reservations. This sounds very liberal, but there was only selfish capitalist interest behind it all and sometimes it showed for a moment or two that money was the main reason for her being in Europe in the first place, under the guise of a cover-up not being so much of a secret from me time to time. As if Spain were a playground for children or criminals, which wasn't too far from reality. But I noticed that she saw different false shadows under the same light casting shade of the same crap; she was confident in her beliefs, but at the same time seemingly questioning herself as to whether she was right or wrong, and if it mattered at all. Nonetheless, she was completely unaware of the dangers and trusted people too easily. She had no fear and appeared like a cool kid from the streets of even more dangerous places. Yet, considering her well-educated nature, and the fact that she could also be quite normal, she saw things differently than a European person, almost like a child from the favelas of Brazil, ready to kill for daily nutrition, making it an interesting paradox to observe her personality and her vibes changing like a kaleidoscope beneath the surface for those looking from the right angle. Martina didn't realize that Italy was Romania vol. 2, or what that meant--how history lives on, how the gypsies who died with the Jews never received a country of their own. I was not acutely aware of the fact that Spain was Romania vol. 3. The prospect of warm weather and easy money had been attracting criminals from all corners of the planet. She seemed to be the typical Libra she actually was, quite consciously quite lost and always trying to find her own balance unsuccessfully as if she was dizzy, never managing to attain the perfect measure, making mistakes and constantly questioning her own results and the actions that led to them. She attempted to conceal her lack of confidence with at times an exaggerated display of confidence. She vacillated between being too shy and too cool, never seeming authentic. I attempted to impart Herder's philosophy to her, explaining how opposing things can settle into harmony, where the truth is likely to be found in moderation and synthesis, hoping she would find it easier to maintain her inner balance amidst all the bad people and bad vibes coming from all directions.”

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Book:BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
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“She had always told me stories about how poor a country Argentina was, being the reason for her girlfriend, Caterina, to move to Spain, which she said was the 13th richest country on the planet. Perhaps Martina's perception of Spain itself was crooked or surrealistic. She didn't realize that the country might be the 13th richest country in the world, but Spain was seriously broke and the people were desperately impoverished since 2007, the economic crisis had never ended, yet Martina seemed oblivious to all that. In her eyes, Spain was a rich country compared to Argentina. Martina perceived Europe and its various nationalities and countries in a surrealistic way, removed from reality; as if all Europeans were the same and equally trustworthy, just like non-Europeans in Spain, and she could not distinguish between people or groups of people coming from different places, with no reservations. This sounds very liberal, but there was only selfish capitalist interest behind it all and sometimes it showed for a moment or two that money was the main reason for her being in Europe in the first place, under the guise of a cover-up not being so much of a secret from me time to time. As if Spain were a playground for children or criminals, which wasn't too far from reality. But I noticed that she saw different false shadows under the same light casting shade of the same crap; she was confident in her beliefs, but at the same time seemingly questioning herself as to whether she was right or wrong, and if it mattered at all. Nonetheless, she was completely unaware of the dangers and trusted people too easily. She had no fear and appeared like a cool kid from the streets of even more dangerous places. Yet, considering her well-educated nature, and the fact that she could also be quite normal, she saw things differently than a European person, almost like a child from the favelas of Brazil, ready to kill for daily nutrition, making it an interesting paradox to observe her personality and her vibes changing like a kaleidoscope beneath the surface for those looking from the right angle. Martina didn't realize that Italy was Romania vol. 2, or what that meant--how history lives on, how the gypsies who died with the Jews never received a country of their own. I was not acutely aware of the fact that Spain was Romania vol. 3. The prospect of warm weather and easy money had been attracting criminals from all corners of the planet. She seemed to be the typical Libra she actually was, quite consciously quite lost and always trying to find her own balance unsuccessfully as if she was dizzy, never managing to attain the perfect measure, making mistakes and constantly questioning her own results and the actions that led to them. She attempted to conceal her lack of confidence with at times an exaggerated display of confidence. She vacillated between being too shy and too cool, never seeming authentic. I attempted to impart Hegel's philosophy to her, explaining how opposing things can settle into harmony, where the truth is likely to be found in moderation and synthesis, hoping she would find it easier to maintain her inner balance amidst all the bad people and bad vibes coming from all directions.”

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Book:BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
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“Did I bring Adam and Sabrina together or did the fact that I got a new girlfriend do that? I was asking the wrong questions. There were so many of them playing mind games that I had to try different angles to find answers. It seemed like Adam was manipulating Martina with an idea of Sabrina and the club. But how could Adam do that if Sabrina and Ruan already knew each other most likely, working for Adam? How could Adam paint two different pictures of Sabrina to Ruan and Martina? Mabye couldn't convince Ruan of any wrongdoing; perhaps he wanted to warn me or Martina, and his arm broke for certain reason. Or was Sabrina playing the same role that Adam painted about her to Martina? Was Adam paying Sabrina to play this game while also trying to sell registration apps to clubs downtown? It seemed like it was a cover up. What was the prize besides the club and the marijuana grow? Who wanted to kill me and why were all these people daring to mess with me? How did they form a group against me? Who or what made them a criminal group? Who was their real leader? Who did they think was the leader, Adam? He was afraid of me. Then who, Sabrina? She wasn't afraid of me, but she wouldn't step over me in my life, my job, or my career unless she had an open field and open goal. Why did she do that? Why did Adam invite her to such strange games? What was the fun? What was the joke? What was the reason why these people thought they were bullying me and wouldn’t get slapped? Why was it my impression that everyone was laughing at me? I felt like Adam didn't have the courage, and his father was not their leader either. I felt like their leader was much less intelligent than Adam or Ferran. I felt like they were being manipulated by someone much less intelligent, or they were acting like that for some reason, or they didn't seem to be hiding how stupid of a leader they had, who wanted to kill me personally, as if the rest of them were just bystanders eating popcorn while I plotted to do the same with Martina once we thought they had taken away my club and the Camorra would take it away from them anyhow. Did Nico say the word “Camorra” to try and scare me? Who told Nico that I knew about the Camorra and what they were up to? Adam, Nico and Martina were aware that the Camorra were one of my clients. Who could have seen Roberto Saviano's book “Gomorrah” in Cantabria, Urgell, and Radas which I bought in the last days of 2011? All of them. I do not know the exact number of particular books that have influenced these events thus far.”

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“I was wondering why Adam had called Sabrina “crazy bitch” in front of me and Martina? Why would he do that when he knew I would not like to hear it? Did I bring Adam and Sabrina together or did the fact that I got a new girlfriend do that? I was asking the wrong questions. There were so many of them playing mind games that I had to try different angles to find answers. It seemed like Adam was manipulating Martina with an idea of Sabrina and the club. But how could Adam do that if Sabrina and Ruan already knew each other most likely, working for Adam? How could Adam paint two different pictures of Sabrina to Ruan and Martina? Maybe couldn't convince Ruan of any wrongdoing; perhaps he wanted to warn me or Martina, and his arm broke for certain reason. Or was Sabrina playing the same role that Adam painted about her to Martina? Was Adam paying Sabrina to play this game while also trying to sell registration apps to clubs downtown? It seemed like it was a cover up. What was the prize besides the club and the marijuana grow? Who wanted to kill me and why were all these people daring to mess with me? How did they form a group against me? Who or what made them a criminal group? Who was their real leader? Who did they think was the leader, Adam? He was afraid of me. Then who, Sabrina? She wasn't afraid of me, but she wouldn't step over me in my life, my job, or my career unless she had an open field and open goal. Why did she do that? Why did Adam invite her to such strange games? What was the fun? What was the joke? What was the reason why these people thought they were bullying me and wouldn’t get slapped? Why was it my impression that everyone was laughing at me? I felt like Adam didn't have the courage, and his father was not their leader either. I felt like their leader was much less intelligent than Adam or Ferran. I felt like they were being manipulated by someone much less intelligent, or they were acting like that for some reason, or they didn't seem to be hiding how stupid of a leader they had, who wanted to kill me personally, as if the rest of them were just bystanders eating popcorn while I plotted to do the same with Martina once we thought they had taken away my club and the Camorra would take it away from them anyhow. Did Nico say the word “Camorra” to try and scare me? Who told Nico that I knew about the Camorra and what they were up to? Adam, Nico and Martina were aware that the Camorra were one of my clients. Who could have seen Roberto Saviano's book “Gomorrah” in Cantabria, Urgell, and Radas which I bought in the last days of 2011? All of them. I do not know the exact number of particular books that have influenced these events thus far.”

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Book:BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
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