Bogotà= Femme Fatale

So, this is it. I`m a living witness of the chaos, folklore and latin eccentricity.
Chaos has been a friend of this city for all its existence and not only it’s friend but it’s beloved teacher and integral part of it.

Being in Bogotá has been a rush of blood in the head (as Coldplay very well mentions). Every instant fades away, diffusing with lightness my disk space which clutters up my machine and profanes my lighting-fast memories. Every single moment carries and, I would say, makes me aware of the stamp that this places leaves in my unconscious every single time I`m back ¨home¨.

The weather warms up every single human being in this place, even to bring the selfish side of all of us (the one we all have but some hardly use, some use it every day). This physical dimension, which filled with empty and filled souls dazzles in my mind constantly. A second in this profane place, shows how to flirt with danger and forcedly become cold blooded whilst having a warm state of mind. Welcome to Bogotà, la ciudad de la furia…. Where the weather is less predictable than earthquakes in Abuya, where you can find all kinds of fruits and vegetables and living creatures laying on the streets, waiting for some hungry civilian with a bit of sympathy to be devoured instantly.

Sigh. Bogotà has been kinky, harsh, lovely, profane, dirty and seductive.

I would say… Bogotà has become my one and only Femme Fatale.