- I hate when people flip through my journals without asking me, even if they don't read it. I've lost relationships because of this.
- I love onion rings.
- I like the smell of gasoline.
- My dirty clothes are always in a pile in a corner of my room.
- I'm a compulsive notebook buyer; I have around twenty unused ones. (I love Moleskines.)
- I sleep better accompanied than by myself. The latest I've woken up this year was with someone by my side. (NOON!!!)
- I cant wake up later than 9:00 o'clock when I sleep alone.
- "I used to watch the pouring rain."
- "I used to wish to be back home again."
- "I used to fear the future."
- "I used to believe it was all in your eyes."
- My worst feeling is envy.
- Second one is the inability to act upon something and just watch it fade away.
- I cant be alone for another two years.- I'm tired of waiting for everyone to reappear in my life.
- In my journals I underline the name the person I have feeling for.
- I love Dr. Pepper.
- She made me like coffee. I drink coffee now.
- She's made her blog private.
- I collect sharpies.
- Right now I'm in my underwear. I only have black underwear.
- It's labor day in Mexico, that means I'm going back to bed.
- I've never been blocked before; It's a strange feeling.

So, there's this girl, right...

(that's the most dangerous way to start something...)

... and she's a long ways away. Exactly what I'm not willing to take anymore.

Exactly what I wanted to get away from. Two more years that I just wouldn't be able to survive still waiting.

I can't have another Missouri; I cant have any more 4:00 A.M. bed times; I cant stand much more insomnia; more bad imagery. I just cannot find myself waiting for such needed company that others have at hand, it's too much envy; too much necesity; too much time alone and too little time to make up for it.

I'm listening to my head for the first time, I'm letting my heart rest for a while.

- I need to shave.
- I can't find my camera.
- I exhumed two bodies yesterday; five in the past week.
- Old stones I've tripped on in the past have been thrown back.
- I dont like working Saturdays.
- I steal shot glasses from every new bar I go to.
- I think I need someone.
- Anyone?

I need to get out into the woods more.

I wonder, why would she do that?

If you're sleeping, are you dreaming, if you're dreaming are you dreaming of me? I can't believe you actually miss me...

"And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I have made
And like a baby boy I never was a man
Until I saw your brown eyes cry and I held your face in my hand.
And then I fell down yelling make it go away,
And then she whispered "How can you do this to me?"

Hate me today;
Hate me tomorrow;
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you;
Hate me in ways, yeah ways hard to swallow;
Hate me so you can finally see whats good for you."

Anyone for Ruidoso this weekend again?

What the FUCK did I do wrong now that was so bad?

If only I were different...

"I'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey).
Who cares if no one else believes
So I set fire to everyone around.
But I told you
I told you,
I told you.

So ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha.
Yeah we walk."

The problem with me is that I'm always expecting something from some situation or someone, that's how I bring myself down every day. It's easy to be disappointed when nothing you expected occurs.

Two nights in a row and nothing; another freak coincidence and nothing; the right combination of words and nothing; the willingness to finally cooperate and nothing.

I can't expect anything anymore, I don't need another whole day of thinking what I believe I'm going to receive only to find myself with only a flat tire and a busted rim.

At least make it worth my drive there; at least make it worth me busting my ass at work to get out early; at least something.

... and I'm out of time again.

Damn. I was willing to go so far tonight.

Maybe tomorrow night is another good night for a hit.

Conversation, five hours long. 2:23 A.M. here; 4:23 A.M. there.

...as a side note you are such a wonderful writer.

"I am Jose's enraged sense of passive jealousy."

I expected this to happen eventually and I'm not surprised. I wasn't expecting to take a certain amount of time or a certain amount of tries.

She is beautiful, no doubt about that, one of the most beautiful women I know, so it was perfectly natural for this to happen.

It's also perfectly natural for me to feel this way, It's my right to feel jealous because I decided it would be from the beginning.

I've been preparing myself for this since then actually, just waiting for her to realize what she is and is capable of. She says she had forgotten what she could do and that was probably my fault, numbing her into a comfortable, uneventful relationship. I've come to terms with accepting that I was pulling her down and keeping her from what she can really do.

I probably should stop reading her words but hen again, I need to know she's alright.

She can do so much, I think It's time she remembers all of that.

I'm happy for her.

And I'm jealous

Debatiendo este tipo de cosas con completos extraños es bastante interesante. Ese filtro, o mas bien, particularidad de no conocer a la persona que da su opinión mas a esto sumándole el hecho de que no se tiene a la persona cara a cara, puede brindar una opinión de lo mas sincera y transparente.

A distancia es muy fácil que sucedan cosas; es mas fácil que no te juzguen, si uno solo conoce a otra persona por sus palabras, por sus escritos, solo puede realmente sospechar que se tienen cosas en común y puede ser muy cierto, puede que lo tengan, de hecho creo que lo tenemos.

A distancia todo puede ocurrir; te puedes enamorar de alguien y se lo puedes decir sin tanto riesgo a salir lastimado; a distancia se puede llevar a cabo una guerra sin siquiera estar participando en ella; a distancia se puede conquistar el mundo entero.

Me dan cosas para pensar, para reconsiderar, ya será cosa de mí de que manera desperdicio mi vida.

Tales opiniones son más que bienvenidas, son apreciadas.

Gracias


Translating...

Discussing these types of things with complete strangers is incredibly interesting. This filter, or better said, particularity of not knowing this person that is giving his/her opinion and adding to this the fact that such person is not here at all, can bring an opinion so honest so transparent.

At a distance it's very easy for things to happen; it's easier NOT to be judged; if one only knows another person just by his words, by his writings, he or she can only really suspect that they have things in common and it can be so very true, they just might and I actually think they do.


At a distance anything can happen, you can fall in love and you can say it without running such a big risk of ending hurt; at a distance you can mange a war without even participating in it; at a distance one can conquer the world.

These people give me ideas to think about, to consider, in the end it'll be my decision on how I screw up my life.

These are more than welcome; they're so very much appreciated.

Thank you.

I've got this buzz going right here just by myself, listening to this song that just reminds me so much.

"... I've been wrong but It's alright.
there have been long and lonely nights.
I was lost 'till I found you..."

I cant get it down quite right on the guitar yet.

It wont change my life but, God, how it makes me think will scare me sometimes.

I'm, by far, a lonesome person. I like being alone; I enjoy my solitude. It becomes a problem when that solitude creates loneliness out of nothing. I hate being lonely and not knowing why.

Nick Drake soothes my uneasiness.

Yet still I feel I'm missing out on so much still. Even though I've been, in a way, free I still feel perfectly enclosed inside myself, as if I'm more comfortable in here than out there. It's probably true but "out there" is where I need to be.

Beer bottle dried out, need another one. There's three corpses made of glass lying neatly in my trash bin, one for each hour I've had nothing to do.

I don't know, I need another hit maybe; I need to feel something I've never felt before; I need to have sex without feeling; I need to put the emotions aside and, for once, act as If I was an animal.

... to scream instead of talk.
... to run instead of walk.
... to fly instead of crash.
... to laugh out loud instead of just smiling.
... to feel like I'm closer to life than to death.
... to hunt instead of buy.
... to fuck instead of make love.
... to enjoy instead of complain.

I feel as if I need to fulfill my most basic needs and wants in order to gain access to all those things that enrich my life.

Hit me. I'm in the mood fuck the whole world today. It's my goddamn obligation. It's my freaking right.

I need... so much.

- I always wear long black socks.
- I always change the white shoelaces on my black all stars to black ones.
- Most of my music reminds me of somebody. I always relate a song with a memory; a feeling; a person.

I've so uninspired lately. Too much work has drained me, too much office work, such small office space. I cant wait 'til Monday when I'll be back at the cemeteries.

My eyes are heavy from little sleep, insomnia is my lover every night but she's always gone by morning. She comes back when I'm ready to retire. She always comes back.

"Caught a bolt of lightning... curse the day I let it go."

I could say so much to this person right now.

I cant believe it.

Was I to naive to expect something?

- I have to fix that problem.
- I smoke when nobody's around.
- I've begun to drink my coffee black and sweet.
- I've gotten used to drinking by myself.
- I am naive. I've always been.
- I'm high maintenance.
- I like my tea with milk.
- I prefer ales to lagers.
- "You're easy to kiss."
- I'm starting to enjoy my solitude again.
- I paste pictures of people having sex on my journal to express how I feel.
- I've kept a journal for ten years.
- I keep my poetry apart from my journal.
- I've been published twice.
- I've been drinking too much water lately.
- My back has been hurting more than usual.
- My sight goes blurry sometimes.
- "Don't make me..."
- I cant sleep for more than two hours at a time.
- Sometimes I cant go to sleep before 3 am.
- I dream something different everytime I get to sleep, but I can remember at least one.
- I have poor vocabulary.
- I need to get laid.
- "You have nice teeth."
- I hate to shave.
- I cant get enough.
- I steal paper towels from restrooms to write on them (I have hundreds.)
- I hate losing pens.
- I'm starting to develope an argentine accent. (God help me!)
- "Don't stop talking."
- I prefer a mountain range than the beach. A pine tree to a palm tree. Whiskey to a beer.
- I'm alone and dont feel that bad.
- I've changed.
- I'm changing still.
- "These trees smell like cum."
- I'm leaving.
- I'm not coming back.
- I've never cum.
- I'm a compulsive writer, almost pathologically.
- I'm starting to feel closer to thirty now.
- I always wear all-stars.
- I'm starting to "feel."
- I dont feel part of the scenery anymore.
- "We've got body over here!"
- I dont want to be buried when I die.
- I want a tatoo.
- I've never kissed a girl with a tongue piercing.
- I'd like to.
- I hate wearing ties.
- Today I drank half a gallon of Coke... at lunch!!!
- I hate paperwork.
- I love exhumations.
- I've lost all the romantic beliefs I've had about death.
- The smell of rotting corpses makes me hungry.
- My favorite part of the human skeleton is the back bone.
- My favorite part of the womans body is the waist; and the small of her back.
- Cute face; developed intelligence; good body. In that order.
- I used to draw.
- I've been lost.
- I've been found.
- "Pinky swear, twice."
- Love's will is broken in me.
- I bite my nails constantly, not only when I'm nervous.
- I love my job when It's not confined to the office.
- I like to crack my back.
- I've been wrong.
- I wish I had jet black hair.
- I've been right.
- I've only been on top of one water tower.
- Each of my three guitars has a different name.
- I'm not afraid of heights but I get vertigo.
- "Tell me about yourself."
- I work with dead bodies. Live ones give me the creeps
- I like Irish girls.
- Sometimes I really believe I'm crazy.
- Sometimes I am.
- Sometimes I'm not.
- Sometimes I wish...



I'm still here.

I cant really say I know much. Things have changed so drastically in so little time. People have come and gone, almost disappeared; important people; unforgettable people; beautiful. I've managed to drive them away somehow, whether with my incoherences, my cowardness or my insistence. Which ever way, I just seem to drive these people away.

I tend to back off then, I know the signs; I recognized those hidden words in between the lines because If heard them before; I've used them as well.

She's drifting away. Sooner or later, I know our hands will drift apart.

She's far away. Nothing I can do there.

She's disappeared. I can only wonder where she's gone.

I'll vanish myself eventually, not into thin air but up to the north, a colder place, more comfortable for me. It's about time I take a break from the sun. The lake will be a place for me to relax. An ocean that's sweet.

My problems will come and go and I'll take care of them as they arrive, It's more important to take care of myself now; to get better; to feel well enough to function in other ways than accompanied. I need to learn to be able to breath by myself.

Everything will eventually fall into place, only if I'm there to put everything where it needs to be. Once each thing comes and presents it's problem I'll make sure to get around "tuit."

'Till then.

Cheers

I think I have a thing for Irish girls.

Blimey!!!

Whatever was spoken; whatever was done; whatever kisses were given.
Value everything below it's worth, forget everything said and start from the sky once more.

The chances given and all of the lost; a woodsy wilderness promised two more days; change brought another promise broken.

Walking forward with the wings on your ankles carrying you around, so thin a body I swear could float over the ground.

Your wings grew and as soon as you landed you were gone, leaving behind a scent, a presence, some feathers from your wings.

Whatever was intended; whatever was justified; whatever was always taken for granted.
Lighter Kisses I have not known, from who I expected a violent reaction I received tranquility.

A night's silent activity, unreal covers still sweating without moving, without speaking a single word for fear of something outside this room; for respect of one and another's past.

Walking backwards and landing on lighter kisses and the wings on your feet. So short a time never owning time at all.

You were no one until a Friday afternoon and I was something until you kissed me behind everyone's back.

Well now the world has turned around and you have flown.
You're a story and nothing more.

And so I start...
There were words
and then there was you disappearing.
Vanished on a pair of borrowed wings
much larger than the ones around your feet.

And so it goes on...
thoughts of someone gone
and thoughts of something lost.
Vanished in thin air a presence lingers still.
Much stronger than any perfume,
much more sudden than any kiss.

And so it ends...
unknowing, still believing
there is something more to this.
Vanished just like love; a memory still in my veins.
Much deeper than I thought,
much simpler wars we have fought.

And so it continues...
It lingers on with your wings...
I thought one could go o far with those wings...

And everything is different... just like that.

After so much in so little time... now nothing at all.

Strange

"Did I do all that I should; that I could've done."

It's never stupid to say what your heart feels. Cowards are the people that keep what they feel inside.

We had our songs; our moments but the fact that this ended doesn't mean they're not ours anymore. As difficult as it may seem right now it will become easier to deal with each passing day; there will come a time where you will remember all this with a smaller degree of sadness and larger sense of thankfulness. You will remember the moments and realize how these things made you who you are and helped you achieve, they will still be specific moments no one else will have. You will come to appreciate them not as something you lost, but as something you happily experienced.

There will come a time. I swear it will. If you can still believe something that comes from me, make it that.

I will always apologize for not being all that you needed; I will always apologize for letting you down.

I'm truly sorry.

It's hard to say what my recent behavior says about me. For the people that just met me, they probably can't judge me completely yet; for the poeple that have known me for at least a couple of years all I can picture them saying is: "You've changed."

I rarely got opportunities like the one I got last night but for the first time in all those opportunities I took it and had the fun I'm supposed to have.

People here have still to judge my actions, maybe they wont; maybe they'll never know. I dont know what would be better with that. I'll probably hear a comment later tonight.

It's a tight knit group the one they have here, It may be a bit more complicated to be accepted than I thought. They're very selective and I understand that just because they are so tightly knit and so small, any person coming in and disrupting this harmony they've managed to establish represents a sort of threat to the relative peace they have here. It's very nice symbiosis they have here, I just hope I can one day form a part of it.



People have come and gone searching for the spot I somehow managed to grab hold of, believe me, I'm still surprised I got it. "I find it hard to explain how I got here... I think I can, I think I can." Now It's time to actually take this awesome step I achieved and put it to good use. About time I do something that will leave me with something again.

Exhausted from last night; from whatever happened last night; from the drinks, looks, hidden innuendo and words in between what they said.

"You're here for now. Be careful what you do."

Then I promptly go down and do it, I mistake my intentions with my needs. "Be careful what you do, you've only been here one day." I heard telling myself. "It's not time to flip this world around quite yet." There's plenty of time to return here and wreak havok in a nother way; there's always ways to come back and see what one can so easily alter; something I can so easily "acquire."

Call me surprised, because I am. Believe me. But maybe It's just me.

Time will pass before I eventually come back, several months, even more weeks and I don't want to count the days, they'll just make them go slower. I need to come back as soon as I can.

It's strange how I'm still dissapointing people because I'm leaving; hurting them even because I'm finally achieving things that are solely for myself. I once made her promise that I would never hurt her again, I should have realized that promise is impossible to keep forever; impossible to keep at all.

Things will change; things are already changing; I'm changing. I need people to be ok with that, to be ok with the fact that I'm probably not going to be the same person in four months, or two years.

I need to change.

I need to keep recieving what I felt in Erie; that vibe as If I'm forming part of something but I'm still just myself.

The beatings will continue until morale improves.

ACCEPTED!!!!

ROCK ON!!!

For those of you who forgot to;
or those that just decided not to.
For those who were too busy;
or those that just didn't worry.
For those that just don't care;
or those that actually offered me their care.

Wish me luck

C'ya saturday.

Yes, it IS this early.

pusilánime
Préstamo (s. xv ) del latín pusillanimis , formado a partir de pusillus ‘pequeño’ y anima ‘aire, aliento’, ‘alma’. De la familia etimológica de alma (V.).
adjetivo/nombre común
1 [persona] Que muestra poco ánimo y falta de valor para emprender acciones, enfrentarse a peligros o dificultades o soportar desgracias.

Claro, como me quieran describir. Me sigue sorprendiendo como a una persona la pueden tener descrita después de una sola acción. Una.

Es cierto entonces que una persona realmente describe como es otra solo cuando tienen algún desgarre en la relación. ¿Acaso no era pusilánime mientras estábamos juntos o simplemente fué algo nuevo y repentino que desarrollé?

Aparentemente no tomó valor hacer lo que hice...
Aparentemente no toma valor lo que voy a hacer...

Ni hablar, me pueden describir como quieran. Ahora soy pusilánime, mañana aún no se que error cometeré, ni el adjetivo que me atribuirán.

Apenas ha sido una persona que conozco quien lo ha notado y me lo ha dicho a la cara: "Estas triste, ¿Por qué?" Lleva meses diciéndome lo mismo. La primera vez que lo dijo me sorprendió tanto porque nunca nadie antes me lo había dicho ni había estado tan cierto ni cerca a la realidad. Lo único que le pude decir fué "¿Acaso se nota tanto?" Entonces, ¿Por qué nadie ha dicho una sola palabra? En este tipo de casos es uno mismo el que tiene que decir la primera palabra. Mas adelante me dijo que conoce muy bien el tema, que ha escrito tésis sobre ella.

El poco ánimo lo admito pero que me juzguen entonces por estar deprimido.

Bienvenido al mundo de beber solo.

Si regreso con buenas noticias prometo que seras la primera en saber.

Arrivo a El Paso el sábado entre 6:30 y 7:00 de la noche. Hablaremos entonces.

Early tomorrow morning I'll be flying farther than I have in so long. I'm flying to find a place for myself, a place where I can stop shooting the future on the foot.

6:55 A.M. Will see me flying over the people I know. It'll be a very early morning.

I wont come back for three days trying to find a way not come back in two years.

Wish me luck, all.

Recuerdos que apenas tocan la superficie de estos tres años.

Salúd por los próximos tres... si sobrevivo.

It would've been trhee years tomorrow; three years of one heck of a ride.

Unfortunately these pillars gave way with my biggest weakness; my biggest need. I'm too much of an animal for someone to love; I'm too neanderthal to be civilized. After almost three years we spent many hours saying how all the things that other people said would defeat us have only ricochet off of us. It's funny how whatended sabotaging this relationship was myself.

Sometimes I'm too much of an "average guy" to feel unique.

She'll live her life and find someone else, I know that; I know many that admire her beauty. It's harder for me because, well, It's always been like that.

I would've loved to see her in that dress she says she wore on her birthday though... she never wore a dress for me except on very special occasions. I guess I'll never see that now.

There's nothing much to do now really. She want's to see me one more time, she says she has things to say to me and I have no idea what. I don't know if she'll yell at me in anger; I don't know if she'll cry; I don't know what questions she will ask, all I know now is that she has things to say.

We'll see this weekend.

Years will pass and at least I can hope that a friendship will be rescued, all we need is to realize that what we were to each other was something to prepare us for something larger. She's been everything to me for so long though. I know we'll both survive this.


Cheers to you Gorgeous.

Be happy; be a readhead; be you.

Be a mad scientist.

Be free.

Hago trampa pero lo dejas pasar, sabes que es a propósito para poderme acercar. Me hablas para decirme "Ahora el mundo cambiará. ¿Me quieres acompañar?"

Me convences y te hago caso, me espera un lago y la construcción de un barco; una plataforma para hundirse y platicar mientras los peces nos muerden los pies.

Me ensucio con el fango del fondo de tu lago; camino con el lodo entre mis dedo; el agua permanece hasta que duermo.

Haces trampa pero lo dejo pasar, se que si llegas algo me vas a dar.
Mientras tanto te hablo para preguntarte "¿Cuándo me vas a cambiar el mundo de nuevo?"

Te trato de convencer pero eres una piedra divertida de romper; una piedra que nunca se hunde porque tu cuerpo es mas ligero que el agua.

Me cubro en el fango del fondo de tu lago y, mientras te veo flotar en la superficie, tu cuerpo lo sigo hasta llegar a tierra firme.



Hacemos trampa pero ninguna dice una sola palabra, sabemos que el tiempo no es nuestro para controlar y lo único que nos queda de él es podernos burlar.

Nos convencemos y nos mentimos, si la distancia y la falta de contacto es lo mejor para los dos, ¿Por qué insistimos en cambiar nuestro mundo?

Nos ensuciamos con los recuerdos del otro, aprendemos nuestros nombres y lo que cargan con su significado. Nos vemos a medio camino entre la superficie y el fondo; yo ensucio tus manos mientras tu me limpias el rostro...

...Y me besas, cierras los ojos y con decir tan pocas palabras me cambias el mundo una vez más.

Acercas estas manos tan débiles a la superficie para tocar el aire y el sol, me convences de lo mejor que es respirar en la superficie que permanecer en el fondo.



Hagamos trampa una vez más;
Convénceme de lo que quieras;
Húndeme en cualquier cuerpo de agua,
iempre y cuando me encuentres medio camino
entre la superficie y tu cuerpo.

"... call it predictable yesterday my dream was of you..."

I'm getting published again! YEAH! This is the poem getting published in "Arcade" a short story and poetry magazine printed once a year from Central Missouri State University in Warrensburg, MO. Second time published. Rock on!!

Here it is, It's in spanish though. One of my favorites.

No me traten de entender cuando
no me entiendo yo mismo.
Déjenme intento averiguar los demonios de mi cabeza,
y los dejaré entrar en ella.

Entre telarañas y piel muerta, aún hay
partes que valen la pena.
Entre heridas abiertas y sangre seca, hay
partes que aún tienen vida.

Es un espejismo placentero lo que
muestro cuando les miento, sobre mis
pesadillas y como se vuelven realidad
cuando despierto.

Entre los actos y el recuerdo, hay una delgada
linea entre lo cierto y lo que me invento.
Entre la espera y la distancia, hay suficiente
vacío para comenzar de nuevo.

Tan fácil como me tiran, me levanto.
Tan fácil como me quiebran, sano.
Tan fácil como me escupen, se los regreso.
Tan fácil como me maten, regreso por ellos.

Entre el soñar y el despertar, tengo mi
asilo donde regreso a descansar.
Entre el golpe y el dolor, hay un instante donde
la agresión la convierto en amor.

Entre lo cuerdo y la perversión, tengo
mis fantasías y mi tormento.
Entre tu y todos mis pecados, prefiero
tu salvación.

¿Cabe mi locura en una caja? Para
envolvértela y dártela junto con mi sanidad,
son cosas que las he manejado, las he aprendido
a malabarear.

¿Tienes la capacidad de erradicar
mi soledad? No tengo mucho que perder,
pero es lo poco que me queda por apostar.

Entre tus perfumes y sabores, son los mas
exquisitos en mis fantasías y sus requisitos.
Entre tu cuerpo y el mío, existe una sincera
salvación, promesa en un perfecto futuro.

It's time to re-direct my thoughts somewhere else, towards my future; towards this trip to a northern land, a place surrounded by a lake, a body of water surrounded by land.

Pennsylvania waits for me Wednesday, the trip of my life I could call it because It will decide what I'll do with my life for the next two years. For the next two years I wish to leave.

"... I feel summer creeping in and I tired of this town again..."

I need to re-direct my thoughts away from this doubt; from this wish to had seen her in that dress on her birthday. I still cannot believe she wore a dress. She always did things like those when I wasn't around.

I need to re-direct my thoughts to somewhere far away, put myself back on top of that water tower where no worry could reach me; where my mind was nowhere else except atop that water tower. I need to go back to that place and feel the wind trying to throw me off the top; I want to climb that hill again; I want to smell those trees; I want to sit in that bar one more time.

Pennsylvania awaits, a calmer and welcome colder weather and a lake that will see me many times during sunsets. I will be there If I ever leave. I need to leave; I want to leave.

Pennsylvania, Peru, Africa, around Mexico, anywhere where I'm not recognized and people aren't asking me "Why did you go and do that stupid thing?" I believe I can be a brand new person in a brand new place.

I think I can... I think I can. (toot, toot!!!)

It's time to re-direct my thoughts to whatever other possibilities I have what with relationships or things I want. It's time to milk this need; It's time to milk it dry.

Have fun at Bob Dylan.

"... y los celos, así como la incertidumbre, comienzan a entrar en mi cabeza..."

I need another water tower; I need another breath of fresh air; I need another hill to climb; another pond to throw bones in.

I swear to God I tried, If you think I just let it go because of nothing you're wrong, but you can believe whatever you want.

She looks great and, as difficult as it might seem she has changed in these past three weeks. She finally pierced her nose, something she's been wanting to do for months but for some reason or the other she never did it; she dyed her hair red again after a malfunction turned her hair a very sexy jet black. She never liked that color anyway.

She called me to tell me she had things to give me back; things she didn't want anymore; things she didn't need. So I went to her house and she came out with a box in her arms, she gave it to me, I mentioned her new piercing and different hair, I said I was sorry again and she said she was as well. I left. Not even 5 minutes passed and I was back on my way home. I didn't want any trouble; I didn't want to have an argument.

I did not notice until I got home what the box actually had inside, it was all the things I gave her in the last 3 years; pictures, letters, small details, things we'd buy; everything was in that box, neatly organized and packed. I called her telling her these things weren't mine, that I had given them to her, she replied saying that having those things hurt her and that I can do whatever I want with them, including throwing them away since I'm so good at doing that.

I could tell she was still mad, she had something in her eyes I cant quite explain, but that's nothing new though, I could never really read her so I cant really be sure what in the world she was feeling when she saw me earlier today. Probably just complete indifference; probably uncontrollable hate; maybe nothing.

"But please, remember me
Fondly
I heard from someone you're still pretty
And then they went on to say
That the pearly gates
Had some eloquent graffiti
Like 'We'll meet again'
And 'Fuck the man'
And 'Tell my mother not to worry'
And angels with their gray
Handshakes were always done
in such a hurry."

It's amazing how a person is willing to throw away great memories because of someone else's incapacity to keep moving on but, then again, I guess I did the same. It pains me that this is over but I felt I could keep going much further before something worse happened. I know for a fact that I would cheated on her, but I haven't still.

The truth is I'd only seen her once before as passionate about our relationship as when I broke up with her, and that was when it all of this began. It surprised me to see her say all those things she did that day trying to convince me, she's not one to implore or beg but that's the closest she ever gone. If only it were like that.

She can think what she wants though, I don't have the right to give her my opinion on what's right or wrong anymore, just like with this things she gave me back, I have no room for them here but I cant force her to take them back. She probably thinks I'm fine with it; that I've thrown away all of her stuff away. So wrong. I haven't thrown anything away.

And I don't think I will. I'm sorry

If I was not at work at this very moment, I'd be somewhere else outside of town. Take me out.

Si estuviera trabajando en este momento, estaría en otro lugar fuera de esta ciudad. Sáquenme de aquí.

This is insomnia again.

One more time, waking up at 6:30 A.M. on a Saturday.

- Insomnia is when you cannot sleep.
- Insomnia is when your body shuts down but your mind decides to work overtime.
- Insomnia is when you could write an entire book in a single night if only you could write as fast as the thoughts racing through your head.
- Insomnia is when is waking up every 20 minutes trying to figure out if what you just saw was a dream of a thought. When your half asleep with a half drunken head It's complicated to tell.
- Insomnia is when you start counting the cracks on the roof or you imitate the sounds outside.
- Insomnia is when you have too many things to think about.
- Insomnia is when you just cant shut off.
- Insomnia is the perfect time to jerk off.
- Insomnia is when is when you don't have... what you want.

I see things during those 20 or so minutes I can stay asleep but I cant know for sure if they're dreams or passing memories or thoughts. Hard to tell. So instead of sleeping I've been awake since 6:30 A.M. trying to figure out what to do.

She gave me a note in one of my dreams; we were all muddy trying to walk somewhere, the mud was up to our waist but we could still walk. I couldn't read what the note said though.

I'm so falling asleep at work today.

My house is deserted at the moment and I'm by myself. Any other person would think this is an excellent opportunity to invite someone over, maybe I should. It's a bout freaking damn time for a breakdown again.

I don't think I'll be able to do much with so little sleep though hehehe. Would be embarrassing but, at least, it would be something, and something sounds so good right now.

Just so I'm clear, I'm not guilty of anything except being to damn malleable.

Dos días me dieron y dos días fueron lo que necesité para olvidar los recuerdos; las promesas y estos últimos años.

Me cansa el esperar, mas cuando con cada sol que amanece aparece un nuevo cuerpo que me ofrece despertar.

No la saboreé, apenas la rocé pero mi mente fue lo que jugueteó con la idea de olvidarte.
Dulce olvido; dulce falta de conciencia con la que sufro.

Me haces falta pero ella está mas cerca, a un pasillo que caminar y tres puertas que contar para llegar a la suya.

Dos días fueron suficientes para olvidar todas nuestras fantasías, travesuras y escasas perversiones que solo mi alma carga.

Dos días para decir “La merezco;” dos días para vivir sin conciencia y convertirme en bastardo.

No la probé, apenas la miré recostada sonriente y prácticamente descubierta.
Sus ángulo agudos y vientre tan plano; su cuerpo tan divino como el que mas conozco.

…Y me trato de convencer que la merezco, que más que una prueba esto es un regalo. Me digo esto para no deshacerme al darme cuenta que por dos días ella ocupó tu lugar.

What a way to freak someone out.

Good job, dumbass.

This predicament seems to fill the air now.

She reads my words I know, in this situation it's hard not to. She reads what I want people to know about me, just like I've done for all this time. It's easy to lie when you've got nothing better to do. I admit I am not in the hole I thought I would be in but that is just that I did not take my time getting out of it.

It's so simple to go with this flow, you feel like crap so keep on feeling like crap; you feel like the world is going to end, might as well let it end. I've had enough of that, I've had enough of having to pick myself up long after I've fallen down and the ground getting used to me. I've been there most of my life, It's time I get up. It was probably that situation that made me start climbing up so quickly, It's also the fact that most people think I started feeling like crap when I finished the relationship. Just goes to show how good I am at hiding things.

So I'm starting a new damn life, If I don't deserve better than feeling like crap then someone make sure to tell me and I'll do my best to let you down, even if I have to do it again. I'm finally experiencing things that, for one reason or another, I've denied myself either because of my morals or someone else's.

If I go out of town It's because I'm beginning to hate this place again.

I'm not incredibly happy but I'm feeling pretty damn OK.

At least I deserve that.

I wanted to change her so much, TOO MUCH. That did not make me feel entirely well, It showed that it was not fair to change her that much when I most likely needed something else. These three years have made us know each other entirely but, maybe, this relationship should have in between the distances, maybe that way every time time we'd leave each other we'd start idealizing each other enough for this to be new and perfect every short time we'd see each other.

It wasn't fair to end it the way I did but there was no other way, I could not continue feeling like I was, pretending I was fine; pretending I didn't have unsatisfied needs; pretending I had enough with our perfectly constructed emotional core. I needed what people less responsible than I were acquiring.

I wanted change but I didn't want to change her, every time I tried I felt worse so I just simply gave up. Call me whatever you want; tell the world I disappointed you again; I've never told anybody how you made me feel. But you and I are different; you and I don't think alike; don't speak alike. At least not anymore.

I'm just too tired of feeling used to the damn ground.

Here's to disappointments, they will never leave your life; here's to trying to make impossible promises, you will ALWAYS hurt someone. Here's to whatever good of me remains in you.

Happy birthday

Talking about how I used to be. I found this old post from four years ago.

"CORNFIELD"

You know, I wish I was someone else,
be the same but be someone that stayed,
someone that lived right next to your door.

I'd walk out back, behind my house,
into the cornfield at night, waiting
for the moon to go up and give me some light.

We'd sit and talk, I'd take away that
fear you have of your cornfield and backyard.

You know, I wished you were someone else,
be the same but be someone that followed my way,
someone that lived right next to my door.

You'd walk out to the driveway and into the street
at noon, I'd be coming home from all my day acting
like a fool.

We'd sit and talk, I'd take away that fear you have
of your cornfield and backyard.

I'd walk out back, behind my wish into the cornfield
to find someone waiting under a moon that's giving
us some light.

"Turns out not where but who you're with what really matters."

Enough beating around the fucking bush... I've been beating around it all my life. Whatever I feel I need to do I will; whatever I just feel like doing I will. I can't just stand by and let people pass me by.

I've been finding a way out of this "half life" and you've helped take a huge leap forward. These kind of experiences, these completely new memories, are exactly what I needed to realize there can be so much in something so simple...


... a tree can bring in a peculiar scent;
... an uphill climb can not only bring tired lungs, but an unexpected (and probably unwanted) kiss;
... a water tower can be the top of the world, rust on your back and the whole world disappeared;
... perverted conversations can make someone calm down, can become a cold shower;
... driving those winding roads can represent the roads in my mind, easier to walk them when there's someone letting me steer;
... a soundtrack for a five hour trip can be the soundtrack for an idea, a desire;
... a cold goodbye can be a possibility of an even better, more acquainted reunion;
... making fools of passing drivers, making fools of ourselves;
... the smallest of towns never seemed to close to the center of the world.


"... hello my friend It seems your eyes are troubled. Care to share your time with me? Would you say your feeling low and so, a good idea would be to get it off of your mind..."

"... see you and me have a better time than most can dream of it. Better than the best. So we can pull on through. Whatever tears at us, whatever holds us down but if nothing can be done we'll make the best of what's around."

I praise the idea for another trip, doesn't matter where, doesn't matter when, doesn't matter if accompanied or just her, as long as I'm feeling the sun on my face and having this conversations not just in my head.

The city is constricting, throw your streets around me and squeeze. I need to leave the city I never quite left.

I need to stop beating around the fucking bush. I need not feel embarrassed about these feelings; I need not feel ashamed or guilty; I need not feel other people's pain anymore.

It's been a long while since It's been OK to feel this way.

Whatever happens; whatever doesn't happen; whatever we make of it; whatever we do or don't, there are no regrets, no hard feelings.

I've just felt so free to breath.

It's a good day.

I'm trying to purge all my older writings as soon as I can. It's time to change; It's time to leave that hurt behind.

"I'm not happy," is an understatement. It's the least I can say when I have so much at stake.

The sounds that drown my head; the voices that cloud my ears. I have you by my side but I'm looking at someone else.

History repeats and written it remains, the more I read the more I want to forget. I want to start from the end.

"I'm incompetent," is and understatement. Whatever triumph I gained is only a mask to hide what I've left behind.

I'm lost and I don't want to be found. Can't you see that this pain I feel is the best I've ever had? I feel comfort in pain and pleasure is the same.

The distance only clears when I stop to breath. Still, you wont feel safe to get close to me.

It's simply who you are.

Fists clenched tightly for the punches I throw at myself, these bruises under my skin and all my hidden scars have been from my own hands.

Confess to me something, ANYTHING!!! I don't want to feel I know all your life.

Give me something to hate you with.

Head tilted back, forcing my eyes to the sky and the ocean. Instead I fall back and land far from where all this began; and so it fades again.

At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, existence is sorely overrated. How much you do and how long is remembered is equal to how easily you can be replaced.

Expendable; unnecessary and cannon fodder.

Words are less and actions are imitations. If the world is so small, why are we so keen on keeping it to ourselves?

Destroy it and turn it to dust, let it fill my lungs and choke me 'till I'm dead.

At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, death is exciting to me. What better reason to live than the exquisite promise of a demise.

Murdered; suicide or old age.

Days are just seconds that fill the hours of the only day I'm allowed to speak.

"Death brings me closer to peace."

As cruel it may be, one is teased with the thought of death an instant after birth.

Not allowed to act but only to wait for the person or the day that would do me the favor of doing me in.

Easier to lay underground than to deal with it everyday.

Jesus Herbert Christ. I gotta lighten up.

At least I'm far from where I was five months ago.

(This text will continuously change with every detail that comes back to me.)

"For weeks now we've neither slept nor breathed no motion, just like a painted ship upon a painted ocean."

The trip was planned for months, always wanting to leave but always finding a reason big enough for me to stay home, build up more a aggression, more necessity to leave. Situations have changed suddenly, recently, quickly and it took so little for me to finally be able to leave. Not the most unbelievable corner in the world; not the most incredible; not the most hidden or mysterious but a place that holds memories of my past, fond ones of my childhood in forgotten castles surrounded by woods which were covered in snow; memories where all I had was a car or a sled that I slid down a slope or down a hill, into trees, rocks or incoming cars. I guess I had a thing for being thrown one way or the other into moving traffic.

It never took too much for me to want to go, I just needed a good reason, something bigger than the reason making me stay.

I invited myself, during a half drunken proposition, halfway between here and another destination in an opposite direction. All it took was a promise of colder winds and a few hours.

The highway was as introspective as It's always been for me, rummaging through the feeling and the words I would later tell myself to remind me why I left home to reach this place. All comfort; finally an opportunity to sleep.

With the scenery changing, the flat desert turning into wooded highlands, 6747 Ft above in the air; above the whole world; barely being able to breath; barely being able to speak when I wasn't speaking to myself.

First day and by myself looking for a change, finding the town looked smaller than 10 years ago. The truth being that, as everything, back then the world seemed larger and more promising.

I held my ground by myself for hours there with the lights and the music; the cold wind outside and the drink warming me up. Small oblivious invitations were made, to which I would just smile and reply: "I'm here by myself." The lights from the alcohol in my eyes brought words written on forgettable paper, as forgettable as memories I deny remembrance. I was alone and I was with myself. I was enjoying my solitude without feeling the accustomed loneliness.

Day turned into night, even colder air, even more words appeared only to disappear between ink and wet paper of tabletops and bar counters. Words disappeared in a blurry example of everything I decided to forget. I felt free.

Slept like a rock; for weeks it seemd. I felt as if the hours lasted days and that night I slept a whole years worth of sleep.

I woke up with a voice, a sudden change had stolen an hour from this visit, suddenly I found myself in hurry to find myself where I had decided to lose it all. I was bound for the road earlier than I thought.

Woods surrounded me once more, it a was a peace I hadn't felt in years; it was an independence I hadn't ever experienced. It was a trip for myself, a trip of introspection; a trip to learn to live without a pillar to lean on; to learn how to balance myself on a wire instead of leaning against a solid wall.

I took my time ending my stay; I took to the road surrounding the houses and hills I remembered; the old abandoned castle in the woods and the cabin that kept me from the cold and those few encounters with bears I barely remember now. The scent of pine and the mountains presence, I was there and I was everywhere, my lungs were filtered and my sight finally found a way to leave all the routinely sights I take in everyday behind.

Mid-day around Midtown, there I found people to see and things to do before things even happened. I had minutes just for myself and no one else. I took it as my time to silently celebrate.

Company crossed the street, barely barefoot breaking the law like any respectable felon would. First company in days, hours or weeks; first sight in God knows how long. We walked through Midtown, up and down It's entire street finding trees with peculiar scents that reminded me of stains in my room that stuck in my overactive imagination.

She took me places; showed me the hidden sights of town; sights she memorized herself; places she shared with someone else before. Walking in the mud, my boots all muddy and her bare feet just as much. Showing me her misplaced collection of death; her incomplete catalog of bones long bleached in the sun only to see her throw them in the water, watch them sink and become lost forever in "Bill's Pond."

Climbing to the top of the world, fighting gravity; fighting the lose ground and thin air all around. I was shown where all the sea of green below me flowed and waved as if it were moving from one place to the other. The wind and the trees were playing a pleasant trick on my eyes.

On top of this world we laid speaking words straight into the air letting the wind carry them to wherever they were to go, if someone were to have heard us I would not have cared. I was riding a watertower to the top of the world.

All these "watertower confessions," all of those words spoken that never fell on more comfortable ears, that were never spoken by such carefree lips, such small lips.


The memories we spoke off; the experiences we described; the newly remembered turning points that shaped our lives, everything described in words of past present and future. The perversions that those words brought, the sweet images and laughs it brought to our cheeks; all of those were carried by the wind into the mountains and are still flying long after we had come down. We might have stayed there the rest of the day but the cold air invited us to a warmer place.

Burning my hand with the coldest of compressed airs, being dramatic about it and her reading me the haikus written in times before all of this was even imagined. Having tied in impossible matches; impossible to tie; does that mean she did the impossible then? "Greasy hands", and shamans recommending searching for guidance among the stars, words derived from the sweetest of alcohols; from the sweetest of her personal cohorts.

Conquering the town, street by street, memorizing my way back if I ever had to return to do the same, all along listening to the soundtrack for this trip, hearing words that spoke "of a revolution" that threatened this time was about to end.

We toasted to goodbyes. If you give her a couple of beers she'll give you her Texan accent; she'll give you words of painted boats on painted oceans and a horses that are short.

Goodbyes are always cold and this one was no different. The friendship we share is better left unbroken by other darker intentions, like those described on top of the world. At least not now; at least not ever until we have all the time we need for what we want it for.

She passed me by, her highway was different than mine. Her eastern destination left he sun far behind while my southern ending gave me a reddish dwindling copilot.

Coming back I see all these familiar sights, those exact lights I so eagerly left behind just a day before. But returning now with a soundtrack that carried the taste of her tongue made me see those lights in a far more friendly darkness.

And so I returned to the place I so quickly left. Not a minute went by on this trip that wont be on my mind tomorrow; not a feeling or word will be lost. All the air I breathed I'm breathing it still; all the sun I soaked I'm feeling it still. It's keeping me warm.

This way it ends where it started. Time to get back to reality, time to be responsible once again.

"If only she knew, what would I do? Would I run? Maybe stick around just for fun. Would I take you out just us two. That would be grand. If only she knew."

And so I can only quote myself right now: "... maybe in another life we were something; maybe in another life we will be something more; but for now we can only be what we are..."

"Everything looks so perfect from far away..."

   Know this and know it well, I'm not here to appease or achieve over you.
   Know me and you know someone else, for I always pretend and constantly invent.

I'm not here to overcome, for I am the obstacle for everyone.
I don't have purpose unless destroying the purpose of someone else.

Watch me destroy; watch me sink you along with me.
Watch me ignore; watch me turn a blind eye to my own.

   I shouldn't care for all I do is a fib. I should not stare at what dares understand me.
   If you say you know me the you know someone else that I do not know myself.

I thought I wanted; I thought I needed. All I found was what little you intended.
Forget me if you will, for my name can spell much more to you that just who I am.

Forget me if you will, for I am a part of your past that you've left behind and dead.

We have very little idea of what we've done, you have no wind fir these sails anymore.
There's no wind for us both.

   Your solid alibi keeps me cold, shudders my body and keeps the rest of me closed.
I'll eat the lie with all the poison I digest, just to keep you calm and at a distance.

Are you drifting away? Because I haven't moved from my place.
Is it you who is going or me that's staying?

   Whispering half truths mixed with utter lies so to confuse my head while I pretend to die.
I'll eat the lie that dangles at the tip of your tongue while you keep me calm, while you keep me tied.

   This life bears too much poison, one hundred years
   may not be enough for some but It's too much for this boy.