Ok, at first i did not understand this book very much, i thought it was the pre-sequel to Born to Run. I felt like Artaud is one of those crazy people that look normal and sit next to you in the subway and suddenly scream at your ear things like “i REALLY LIKE COWS” or “Ciguri IS THE PRE DAWN of man walking earth of the void in shadows between being and not being right below the liver EMANATIONS of peyote!” you know, that kind of person. And usually I avoid such persons. In that kind of situations I stand very still, ignoring the surrealist person next to me, like It didn’t bother me that now he is invading my personal space and staring, expecting some reaction. But then I remembered I had saved some mushrooms from my last trip to eurodisney and suddenly it all made sense, all of Antonin Artaud words. If you don’t Ciguri, you will never like cows, at least, not in the spirtual tarahumara way.