Songs define me at times.

   This is exactly this precise moment

Desperation maybe, I don't know but days go by and the desire grows. It doesn't-t help that my friends seem to disappear from under my nose because they're off doing exactly what I need.

I can't envy; I can't be jealous; I just wish it would be something that could be shared. Share the fun, share the love.

I'm alone only for a couple hours after work at home and that's two hours too many.

Everyone has ghosts and they appear at random. Mine are constant, they hide in shadows and unlit spots; others are in plain sight and they walk constantly reside me.

They’re always there, always whispering barely hearable words, barely hearable intentions and ways on how their non-physical form will falter my step.

Every ghost is as similar as it is unique, each one with it’s own torment but a torment nonetheless, that is their purpose, that is why they’re here for. They are our own feelings in ocular representation, some feelings and emotions we need not only feel to comprehend, we also need to see them, either in our dreams or lucid delusion. One needs to understand them, accept them or destroy them before they destroy you.

But everyone has ghosts, those that wake you up late at night and those that don’t let you sleep; those that push your further form fear and those that pull you back; those that kill you or only make you stronger, more callous with thicker skin… senseless, emotionless; a stone.

Everyone has ghosts, I wish mine only stayed in my dreams.

It's amazing how a six year-old boy and his imaginary tiger can be so right.

I couln't help but relate to these words.

Oh, Dr. Who. I want your suit.

···One lives his life as he sees fit; he sees things meets people; remembers and dreams; dreams become reality and reality becomes his memories.

···The people one meets come and go in different times of his life, most of them never stay forever even more of them reappear but when they do It's for a reason, whatever that reason is, good or bad, theres always one.

···I saw her once last year briefly while going to the movies but before that I probably hadn't seen her in four or five years. She had always been a very good friend of mine in Highschool, we hung around sometimes and we even went to see the Stone Temple Pilots together. It makes me laugh to think that we hardly actually talked during the concert, I was a very very shy person back then and to actually go to a concert WITH A GIRL was just new to me. We had the worst fucking seats in the place but the concert was great, it's still one of the best I've gone to.

···She was pretty quiet too, I remember. If I'm not mistaken she sat in the back of the classroom, I'm not sure, at that time my attention was focused on something impossible.

···I left for college and she and I kept in touch every once in a while. Every time we talked it was just to catch up with each other's life because there'd always be a long period of time between conversations, the thing was that we always laughed, we always had a great time, as if it had only been a couple days since we saw each other.

···Two days ago I see her on my screen, her screen name shes had for forever was still the same, "Masaryk," which I have no idea what that means. So I decide it's time to catch up again, so I talk to her. The process of catching up starts immediately, life, love, work, future, people, pains, experiences, plans. The list goes on and on. I tell you, "You know, we should get together and talk." she agrees and we set a place.

···It was dinner and drinks but plans changed a bit, instead of italian it was mexican food. She looked taller than usual, and it made me feel like I needed platform shoes but once we sat down we were all the same height.

···Talk, talk, talk. The conversation went one for hours, drink after drink and plates of food; she laughed and so did I, I hadn't laughed that much in weeks and I hadn't realized how much I needed it. First time in a very long time that I didn't drive back home in a melancholic mood.


···After dinner we went on with the drinks, since I had bought dinner she was stern on buying the booze, I had to let her, she was taller, she could beat me up. She had only gone to my favorite place once so she hardly knew it. I explained to her some of the beers and she ordered a couple. After finishing we'd order something new. Of the six we tried we liked all but one. Now we know.

···She likes taking pictures but doesn't like getting photographed like every photographer, we have the same movie tastes, our music differs a bit but we could spend hours talking about "Lost in Translation.", 45 minutes was enough last night.

···Many people have told me that she and I would make an interesting couple, what they don't know is that I'd considered that a long time ago, I can still remember wanting to ask her out but back then everything went wrong for me. There were times where I wasn't sure what I wanted. After that it was impossible for me to see her or have those intentions. She's just always been very attractive to me in every way.

···She's leaving in a couple of weeks and so am I, so that means, just like years ago, nothing can or will happen. We'll just leave it at dinner and drinks every time.

···Every single time.

... then bottsecks is just bottsecks?

HEY! Sex IS an interesting thing!!!

Who would've thought? It boggles the fucking mind.

   It was a different day yesterday, at least it was for me. The weather has finally decided that it's really summer and has shot up a few degrees, not much maybe but enough to not want to drive around outside all day. 103 degrees is not driving around with no AC weather. People say it finally feels like summer, I say summer came around early this year.

   Left work early today, around 4 o'clock all my responsibilities were taken care off and I had the rest of the day off. I called her and told her that I wanted to see her so I could finally give her the camera I'd promised her a week ago. She agreed and we decided on where to meet.

   The line to cross over to the States was short but it took forever; the sun was shining from the west right at my face and there weren't any clouds to help shade it out once in a while.

   I got there a bit later than I had told her (I hate being late). I hadn't seen her in almost a month I think, or more than that. She looked, hmm, how can I say this without being misinterpreted? She looked great, as she always has. She lost some weight, looked a lot better emotionally and physically and she said she had a "good hair day today", I say she had a "good everything day", everything was 'perky.' I accurately predicted she'd be wearing cleavage today too.

   I really felt glad how I didn't see her being anxious or nervous like the last time we saw each other, she's feeling better about the situation and feeling better about herself.

   I had lunch and a couple of beers, she only had a beer and she took her time with it, I think she finally noticed she was starting to have a problem with that and now she's pulling herself back a little. I'm happy about that. She's feeling better and looking better.

   She came with me to buy my fathers birthday present but she didn't ride with, she had her own car and we met at the music store, that felt strange but I understood. That didn't take long and I wish it had, I still wanted to talk to her but there was that awkward silence when were outside where all you could say was goodbye. I told her she looked pretty that day and she just smiled.

   First thing she told me when she saw me was that I too much of a beard on me. That felt a little bit too familiar.

   She didn't let me take a picture of her.

   We said goodbye, she went off to her house "to clean" and I took my time getting back home. Halfway through a couple of O.A.R. and a Rory Gallagher cd's I get a call from my roommate asking me NOT to come home, he had company, another booty call. He's been getting them constantly lately, this girl, (his girlfriend?) I guess she thinks he's good and I bet he is because in the past week I've had to wait outside in the park two or three times.

   I was just glad I saw her the way I did, she's still incredibly attractive and me telling her that she looked pretty was an understatement. headed to see with my own two eyes how she was doing, how she was feeling and I finally did and I'm happy with what I saw. She looks well and I'm happy.

   So the day ended late with news of a present on the way, a surprise of sorts that a certified dork sent me. All I know is that it's piece of art, no other clues were given so I guess I'll have to wait until the surprise arrives.

   I wish I'd get a booty call. God knows I need one.

No me impidas... no me digas cuando puedo respirar y cuando puedo morir...

Me amaste demasiado rápido y tu pasión se agotó mucho antes que la mía. Fuiste increíble para mí y yo para ti, pero nada dura para siempre.

Todo por servirse se acaba.

Nada en este mundo era más grande que nosotros y solo nosotros mismos nos podíamos destruir.

Es la ironía de la vida como lo más fuerte solo lo más fuerte lo puede matar. Así nos matamos mientras seguimos con vida.

Todo esto que tenía que observar, aquella última vez que me recosté sobre tus piernas; tú dices que no sentía nada cuando todos mis nervios estaban por romperse.

Ve como renuncié a todo esto, sabía las puertas que se me cerrarían, así viví día por día hasta encontrar las palabras que tendría que hablar y que conexiones tendría que cortar.

Y si me ves a los ojos veras que nunca estoy donde quiero estar, justo cuando me siento bien en un lugar mi libertad se da media vuelta y se va.

Ahora me voy a otro lugar.

This is the story of a liar and a cheat.

Trips I make are always for a reason tough I pretend and say they're for my own personal and solemn rejoice. I say I go alone but th etruth is I'm playing my cards, sometimes with a good hand, most of the times without a hand at all. All these hands are to see somebody, anybody. Her.

I had a bad hand this weekend and I knew it, but I still played and lost. I did it as if I knew I'd lose so I can say that I went there to be alone. A lie everyone else believes but me. I do try to convince myself but it rarely works. I was played this weekend and I was humiliated.

Humiliated? Played? By whom? By myself to be truthful. I love the places I go but I love them more with the right company, sometimes any company is fine.

The way I sleep in hotels has changed, some company taught me the risks o sleeping over the bed covers and sitting on the desk chairs. People still think of hotels as MOTELS, they enjoy the mirrors with their reflections using the desks to hold themselves up with their elbows and faces pressed against the mirror.

You can sometimes still see the greasy and sweaty impressions of their faces with an expression of pleasure and pain on the mirrors.

With chairs and bed covers you just have to watch for the stains. That is why most hotels have bed covers with very complex designs, makes it hard to see any kind of stain.

I lied about seeing someone there. I didn't see anyone except people unknown. All I saw was the cabin closed shut and no lights; foliage growing unattended almost covering the driveway. It was as silent as an empty house can be. The creaking wood was the only sign that house had life, but it wasn't you.

I cheated to get in the sad situation I'm in. I'm cheating to get out of it. I'm cheating to find some way to feel better.

It's unbelievable how with my poor eyesight I could still drive to that door.

I'll going back there soon. Lying or not, cheated or otherwise.

Darling I'm lost
Adrift in the dark
I'm clutching your words
To my vampire heart once more
So let in the light
Turn me to dust
If it don't end in Bloodshed dear
It's probably not love

Here we are
In the darkest place
My reflection
Shows only your face

Something is found
Something is lost
Went looking for clues
On the streets of old New York
And I spilled someone's blood
I broke someone's heart again
Someone you know
You're looking at him my friend

And the people in our lives
We all leave behind
Leave behind

Here we are
In the darkest place
To keep from forgetting
I picture your face
And I wonder
While we count the cost
Which is sweeter
Love or it's loss

So I curse you
My vampire heart
For letting me you love you
Love you
For letting me love you
From the start

   I wont say "She let me go away," or "She never took advantage of me,." We both made our mistakes; we both know where we went wrong, whether we admit it or not, that's another story.

   I don't like placing fault in situations where more than one person is involved. After a breakup, one slowly realizes what he or she did wrong, but it's only after time, it never just hits you suddenly, instead you slowly comes to terms with the mistakes and bad decisions and that is when one learns, one grows up.

   I've made my mistakes, but It's alright. There have been very long and very lonely nights, but I'm still here and I know the mistakes I made, they're written down with red ink my notebook somewhere in the last few pages and I come across them every now and then when I open it (I have something pasted on that page that makes the notebook almost open in that page by itself.)

   I wont say I hate her for what happened, I'd have to hate myself, but I've done that for far too long. I whipped myself constantly this past couple of years because of the mistakes I constantly made, because of what I was constantly denied and I THOUGHT I deserved. That is what I believe, it doesn't necessarily mean it's correct.

   I'll come back later....

No more apologizing; no more excuses.

What's done is done and I did it because I felt it had to be done.

ba-bump, ba-bump!

My eye doesn't hurt but it's still the color of the most attractive beetroot.

Maybe it's me but I just realized this.

That night she told me I made her feel "unwanted", "undesired," " that was exactly how I felt late in our relationship when I was constantly rejected.

I'm sorry.

Update, 12:06 A.M.

See? This is what I don't get. Why wasn't she ever like this when we were together? I don't know, probably she's just fucking with me; probably not.

I could say so many mean things right now; things that would make her feel like crap, things I'll regret saying tomorrow when I'm sober and driving to work.

So I'm not. I'm staying quiet. Let her get her fix, if that's what she want. She never got it form me anyways, no matter how hard I tried.

   So it's four o'clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday and I'm my underwear, why? Two reasons.

1. Because It's freaking hot, and...
2. Because I have something in my eye (infection?) that looks as if it's turning it into liver.

   So I have an appointment with my eye doctor in a couple of hours so I have my eye checked out, I have no idea what it is but since I'm out in the sun and dirt all day, not to mention human cadavers, I'm pretty sure It's gonna be a nasty infection. I just hope it doesn't become complicated.

   Hey! At least I got off form work early, not only because of my previously green now red eye, but because we actually finished our exhumations early.

   Ha! Who else does exhumations?

Correct capitalization:

"Timmy helped his uncle Jack off a donkey."

Incorrect capitalization:

""Timmy helped his uncle jack off a donkey."

NOW YOU KNOW!

   I come back home tonight to find a friend I haven't seen in so long. He is on this screen so many people see everyday and he is showing off this picture of him and this girl. They're a couple and they've been together for a while, I know her only by imagery and by the words he uses to describe her.

   "You look like each other" I said when he showed me the first picture of her. He laughed, "You're no the first one to say that." He said.

   But it's late, and I still have this picture of them in my mind, you can hardly see they're faces because they're obscured, she is behind him leaning her head against his; he's turning to his side as if to kiss her.

   All of a sudden these desires come rushing in, these wants of company. It's bizarre because of the fact that I left exactly that to be alone and BECAUSE I could no longer stand being alone. It's ironic and very complicated to explain.

   It's this picture that's just stuck in my mind, this image of the greatest of friends and greatest of musicians with someone I know only by his words and feelings. Can there be any kinda of "good" envy? For I want what he has right now yet I do not feel bad, I do not feel undeserving of what I don't have. I know eventually I'll find something like that. At least I wish it so.

   For the moment they're apart and he'll travel to where I am to be closer to her. We will talk and remember the times we played for all the loneliness that nobody notices now; that time on my balcony where my father was so incredibly impressed at his skills; "That kid that looks like John Lennon..." my father said", "... Damn, he's good!"

   That was the last time us three, "El Trío Miserias" my father called us, jammed together.

   We'll see each other more often I suppose, we'll both carry our guitars and the music in our heads, at last we'll live in the same country and have much more of a chance to play. Like the old times, like that time at Mazamitla with the old piano; or the times in that painfully small room in that underground garage with our only bass player "One finger sliding up and down the neck" Rafa. At least I think that was his name.

   He's on the phone as we speak most likely speaking with her, the girl from the picture, talking how each day they're closer to being back together in New York of all places.

   A city barely fit for my friend.

   Cheers man and see you soon.

I know of a girl in California who would go crazy about what I have in the back seat of my car...

Think "4 am and picking up all the mess." What would you do???

Here's a picture.




Laugh it up!

"As I went up Solsbury Hill I could see the city lights.
Wind was blowing but I stood still.
An eagle flew out on the night.
He was something to observe,
but coming close I heard a voice.
Standing stretching every nerve, I had to listen had no choice.
I did not believe the information
just had to trust imagination,
my heart going BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!!!
"Son," he said, "grab you're things I've come to take you home."

   It happens in the most inopportune moments, the instant you need it the least but want it the most. A call is made and voice not recognized until a instant later, until asked, "Can't you recognized who I am?" I stutter before saying the voice's name and I was right.

   I had been left alone the night before one invitation denied another invitation ignored, now I was finding myself running to an event I already in years past, same feet, same girl, different time and different dance.

   Scared shitless she is someone I can easily counter when I have someone by my side but finding myself as I am now I cannot help but react differently. This person will always be what she is, my oldest of lovers, the one with whom I learned, for the first time, the my feelings can mean something and that I can receive something in return.

   Her family still loves me and often asks her about me, what am I doing and where I am, am I single and, if I am, why don't you and him get back together again. I don't think either of us is looking for that right now, I know I'm not. Her family sees me, her mother specially, and every time tells me how sorry she is that our relationship didn't work out because she had the best of hopes for us and that no one she's been with since me has never given her such a good feeling. I don't know why in all but one of my relationships the parents end up caring for me more than the daughter.

   Information was gathered by a third party; she had broken up with her man a few days ago. Why were they telling me this? I didn't want to know who else besides her parents wanted us back together. I don't want something stable right now but if I do start one I want the most chaotic, difficult and unbalanced relationship so I can easily finish it when I leave, no remorse, no hard feelings because the hard feelings were already there. I don't want to hurt anyone who doesn't deserve to be hurt.

   At the end nothing happened, nothing I wanted at least. We went out in a group and she says me "You see him, the one with the pony tail?" "Yeah." I said. "I like him." I didn't speak to her the rest of the night at the night club, she was close by, only a couple of steps in front of me but she had put up her wall. The music of the place, the cost of a simple lager, the people that congregate there made my feelings stronger towards why I don't enjoy those places. Give me a dive bar and I am a happy man.

   We all went to my house for drinks, she did not ride with me like she had all day, I drove home by myself changing the cd she had put in my stereo with something that fit the moment (damn you Sam Beam and Bread Stealing Bird.)

   All the songs were from our time, It's amazing how one musician has spanned so much of my life, her songs are defined just everyone else's that have passed through me.; pictures lost from a week at the beach; snippets of thought I thought had already forgotten; weary memories I hadn't realized I still liked to keep with me.

   My head always did betray me.

   They left and I was left alone at 4 in the morning to clean up the mess and pick up what was left of my pride, which was not much to start with If I was willing to have something from the beginning. AS I was walking upstairs the title for this post came to mind as I was going through everything in my head again and I told myself "I cant believe she's the oldest of your lovers." I was too tired and drunk to write last night, I'm having trouble writing this morning, my head is heavy and hurting but my pills will take of that... prescriptions.

I feel like shit.

Just because I can and because I liked this paragraph so much.

REPOST!!!

Nobody seems to care that I'm in the fight for my life, no one around seems to understand how life disappoints me most of the time, beginning with the fact that life now is a responsibility not an opportunity and from there you have to find whatever small piece of time you can to build a life; everything is a career; everything is a memo; everything is numbers; everything is taxes, money, convincing, saying goodbye, never cumming. Everything is papers and signatures, everything is contracts and revenue, everything is an erection only half hard. Most of life is a disappointment.

   I'm an irrational person, at least I've been told, and this does not bother me at all. I've actually been called that before.

   I am irrational, my behavior is based more on feelings, hopes, hunches and guesses than rationale. I keep thinking that things will get better just because, well, they will, I don't give myself a specific reason. I say to myself "It's how nature works," "It's how it should be," "It's how love should be."

But there are moments where I can help but reflect and realize how illogically I acted, don't get me wrong, most of my actions defy logic most of the times, not that I can defy physics, It's just that sometimes I like to do things unconventionality, for the. sake of saving my sanity from the daily routine.

   Here's Jose trying to write backwards, or my strange habit of keeping a journal and the way I write. My job isn't all that "normal" either.

   So there I was, the words "I think I can, I think I can" going on and on in my head just to survive another day, the little bottle of pills rattling in my pocket, just believing that the day wil comel, no, not the day, but something larger, something that'll last more than a day, where the needs of everyone around me, including mine, will be met. I'm not talking about luxuries, I'm talking about the basic needs of a person, of a man, of a couple.

   I recently confirmed how right I was, yet it's something I cannot say because I still don't feel justified, still I know I did what I needed to do and even though I'm in the exact same situation as before at least now I'm not embarrassed or saddened by the fact of being shot down because I EXPECT to be shot down. It's much easier to accept rejection when you feel you don't deserve something instead of when you feel you do.

   That was probably my problem, I felt I deserved it, why? Because long periods of time (VERY LONG) went by and yet I really believed that people thought it was a walk on the park; that Missouri was a simple excursion what with the opportunities I was offered (or at least hinted on, Comprenez-vous? non?.) I thought that was the trial of fire I had to go through in order to prove that I was capable of much more, that I deserved at least a chance to turn my needs into something incredible for both of us, not a favor.

   I put away so much of my common sense, but I don't mind, I had the time of my life. It's just a shame that something so basic, so bestial, was what tore me apart.

   Eventually, I know our hands will drift apart.

"I tried my best to leave this all on your machine
but the persistent beat it sounded
thin upon listening and
that frankly will not fly. You will hear
the shrillest highs and lowest lows with
the windows down when this is guiding you home."

   I'm "emo" again.

Tal vez ya debería estar durmiendo y soñando alguna estupidéz que me fuera a dejar con la duda de algún profundo significado cuando lo que realmente significa es que me hace falta sexo.

From my favorite book.

"Just supposing, just supposing, that there was some extraordinary way in which you were very important to me, and that, though you didn't know it, I was very important to you, but it all went for nothing 'cus we only had a few hours and I was a stupid idiot at not knowing how to say something very important to someone I've only just met and not crash into a pack of lorries at the same time, what would you say... I should do?"

Take care.

After talking to people from both worlds; after sufficing my need for closure and peace I find the words form the most uncommon person, at least the person I expected it from the least just because I considered her a dangerous vessel for me to pour my thoughts in.

At least I know that in this issue, I'm right.

She said those words that not only surprised me but finally let me exhale that breath of air I've been holding for such a long time.

I've come to terms with what I've done; I've realized that what I did I deserved be it punishment or well-being, It's mine to take hold of and mold it into what I want.

"When your want from the day leaves to curse in your sleep tonight."

I'm cursing each passing day less and less; I had enough of kicking the shadows of every mistake that I have made. After so much explanation and doubt I forgot that I had done this for myself and my own peace of mind, finally something completely and utterly selfish; something entirely mine.

I'll be leaving sooner than I thought, probably mid-June if all goes well. I'm going to different places, even going so much out the way as to visit Nashville Tennessee and Charlotte North Carolina.

The road will do me good. I'll be driving most of the way everywhere. There will be pictures.

Oh yeah, that reminds me...

You might as well have an open bleeding wound on the palm of your hand, either way that hand is useless until it heals.

You try to wash your hair, the shampoo makes it sting like motherhumper.
Hair gel works the same way.

You would not believe it but I have five papercuts on one hand and three on the other, don't ask me how I just noticed this morning. You know when? When I tried to wash my hair. You try shampooing your hair with one hand, specifically the hand you use the least.

This is the epitome of random rambling.

At least I know that in this issue, I'm right.

LET HER GO!
dammit!

...I drink coffee now...
...I actually understand classical music; at least appreciate it...
...I bought intimate apparel...
...I wrote up how to conquer the world...
...I always came back when I said I would...
...I came back for good...
...I survived Missouri...
...I survived Guadalajara...
...I never doubted her, I only doubted myself...
...I learned about art...
...I discovered most of my favorite things...
...I slowed down...
...I thought about a future...
...I became more responsible...
...I thought I could be a man...
...I had the best sex in my life; what little we had...
...I call it "making love" though...
...I enforced my preference for All-Stars...
...I saw Chicago...
...I discovered the best hotdogs...
...I saw a true orchestra...
...I travelled by train...
...I cried...
...I had the worst nights of my life...
...I tasted "Red Hot Cheetos" with ranch dressing...
...I believed in myself...
...I thought I could, I thought I could...
...I planned a life...
...I finished 5 journals...
...I found my calling...
...I knew what jelousy was...
...I stopped eating seafood...
...
...
...
..
..
..
.
.
.

Acaba toda fantasía. No puedo decir lo que siento ahora, solo puedo decírmelo a mi mismo y por debajo de mi propio aliento, lo suficientemente alto para escucharlo dentro de mi propia cabeza pero lo suficientemente bajo para que nadie mas lo oiga.

No puedo negar lo que hay; tampoco puedo negar lo que veo, entonces ¿Cómo decir lo contrario a lo que siento o, simplemente, no decirlo?

Es incómoda esta rareza, tanto que me agradaba una vida con algo de sorpresa hay veces que me gustaría anticipar algunas cosas; hay personas que no quiero perder, ¿qué hacer para no perder a una persona? ¿Qué hacer para no perder... la...?

Eventualmente algo sucederá y la distancia aumentará, sin duda alguna gran parte de lo que resta desaparecerá.

Quiero hacer mucho pero ya no es mí tiempo, este lugar ya no es para mí al igual que estar solo.

Tengo miedo de irme dejando a alguien atras, eso es, eso es todo. Simplemente no puedo mas.

Que me llamen lo que quieran, que me juzguen como quieran, ahora no tengo oidos que para yo mismo.

Adelante...

The last three nights I've been having different dreams with a recurring girl, one I've never seen in my life except in dreams.

"Who she is?" Is a question I've only asked myself since this morning for it was only since then that I noticed she became a recurring theme. The most recent scene being driving in my car here in Juárez; I distinctly remember a certain crossroad close to the morgue where I work, I remember that multicolored tile wall on the bank on the north-west corner of that crossroad.

She's a stranger in every way except in my dreams. In those dreams I know her name; in those dreams I know where she's from; in those dreams I know what she likes and dislikes; in those dreams I KNOW her. Once I wake she's a stranger and I forget those small details. Alll I remember is her physical form.

Long hair, down to just below her shoulder and a bit curly at the ends. Brownish-blondish hair; light brown eyes and small lips. Slim, sporty almost.

She was wearing red pants and a tight white wife beater; her native tongue was English. Cant remember her accent.

She's a stranger and now that I've acknowledged her existence in my subconsciouse I know I'll never dream her again. That's how it is with me, sometimes I just don't write down my dreams because of this fact.

She'll be gone by the morning and I cant even remember her name...

Something is changing.

It's going to be big.

Should I be fighting this temptation or should I just stand firm with the decision I've made?

What would happen? When is it too late?

I try to figure out the reasons why I did this in the first place; the reasons I tell myself, the ones that convinced me and now I'm not so sure. I don't think I ever was, at least for most of them.

There is one reason though that has not faltered in this short time and that is the fact that I'm leaving. Either I'm convinced that I'm not strong enough to wait anymore, or that I'll fall prey to whatever first opportunity I'll have when I'm gone and by myself. God knows as much as I do that It would've been impossible for me to say no.

I rewind the cassette player in my head (yes, I'm that old fashioned) and replay certain scenes from the last few months. I jump from moment to moment, always going from a specific instant and from there remembering details until it forms the larger picture in which that moment is framed.

There's one unfortunate moment that's stuck too my head like a scrambled egg that gets messed up when you try to pass it to the plate. What she said when I mentioned that there's a chance of me leaving again and that I wanted her to come a long with me to live, what she said that night made my mouth close and I said little else the rest of our short time in that bar.

I took her home and immediately went to mine, I barely said goodbye.

Later that night I had one of my many fits of insomnia. I didn't sleep that night, I had mixed feelings of anger, doubt, frustration, and loneliness.

I "woke up" the next day and it was all a haze, I don't remember if I saw her that day or if I just stayed home what with the mood I was in. Burning questions in my head that just wouldn't let themselves be put out; these burning questions that left that scar. How many years had passed and still there were secrets, fears, doubts?

She feared me.

She doubted me.

She kept these secret from me.

All it took was for me to ask you to come along with, to at least consider it. She said it was "creepy."

I believe then they were normal fears and doubts, I probably hadn't given her enough for her to believe that something like this was possible; she probably trusted me enough to let me go and me apart for so long yet did not trust me enough for us to be able to live together. That's the irony of things, we were apart because we had no choice, when the choice was granted and the opportunity at hand the fears set in and grew roots, I was left alone, lying in my bed thinking just one question, "why?"

I wasn't the same after that, I was slowly changing and convincing myself, day by day, the darker side of my heart just saying, "it's time to move on." You can only ignore that voice for so long.

I cried that night because I had never loved anyone so much for this long and in this ironic way have it explode in my face, I had never loved anyone so much and yet feel so untrusted. I blame this all on me though; I probably only thought I was doing all the good for her, I was probably never doing quite enough.

So I insist...

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

After that it was me that was scared and weak; after that, I don't know, I just felt I couldn't do much else. The extent of my actions would not be enough to satisfy a couple's life, so I might as well satisfy my own. Also to try in acknowledge what I'm capable of giving to another person, to reestablish that sincerity with what I actually have and what I can truly give; what I'm willing to sacrifice and what I expect to receive.

There's a difference between believing you should receive something and actually deserving it. I probably did not deserve than what I was given; I probably gave just as much.

It's true on notices his mistakes after the fact, after the years; after everything has changes; after HE has changes, that is when one decides to regret and learn or forget and falter again.

I'm regretting and learning.

We will both move on, there's no doubt inside of that, whether she moves on first or I it doesn't matter, this is not a race. As long as we can both look back at this and smile saying to one another "Those were 3 of the best years of my life."

They were. They'll always be, and even if she cant carry the memories along with her I know I can; I know I'll still have memories hanging on my walls; on my notebooks and inside of me.

I am so sorry; I can never be sorry enough.

Cheers.

I dreamt her a couple nights ago in ways I never wished to dream her again; in ways I NEVER want to see her.

Yesterday I was at work and couldn't help but keep my eyes peeled...

Talk about being stressed...

I think I've done most of my postings early in the morning, probably the only time when I HAVE time, I do come back from work around 7 or 8 o 'clock in the evening with enough space and time to write something but all I want to do is shower, read and then head to bed.

Specially when I was in hand to hand combat with 10 mummified remains, and tow more that were just squeletized. I do enjoy my job.

I think everything is moving one as it should, the mistakes I've made have begun to take shape and to direct themselves towards places that will make them mean something. Everything here is slipping away, I believe that, by the time I leave, everything will disappear; everyone will be gone; no one will give a second though about the mistakes I made except myself.

At least I'll be gone; I'll have a lake to talk to and where I can try to wash it all away. I cant believe how for all this time I've tried to find places where I'm not recognized so I can start over, like a criminal that's running from his past, from that instant where he decided to act differently from what he's been accustomed to, so he can begin a new life. I am that criminal, I am that man carrying around that instant, I am that hopeful being that's trying to find a way out of this place.

I just never thought that the place where a wouldn't be recognized was the place I was born. This contradicts everything I've been running away from, maybe I haven't been running at all, maybe I've just made it all up, maybe I'm not so fucked up as I thought.

Maybe I'm fortunate.

It's still early enough to be dreaming so maybe that's what I'm doing right now. I'm awake but still dreaming.

Dreams of finding a way to get away.

Nightmares of my mistakes.

Watch me regret;

Watch me fakely smile.

Time to leave it all behind again and shed my skin.

Bird Stealing Bread

Tell me, baby, tell me
are you still on the stoop
watching the windows close?
I've not seen you lately
on the street by the beach
or places we used to go.

I've a picture of you
on our favorite day
by the seaside.
There's a bird stealing bread
that I brought
out from under my nose.

Tell me, baby, tell me
does his company make
light of a rainy day?
How I've missed you lately.
and the way we would speak
and all that we wouldn't say.

Do his hands in your hair
feel a lot like a thing
you believe in,
or a bit like a bird
stealing bread out from under your nose?

Tell me, baby, tell me
do you carry the words
around like a key or change?
I've been thinking lately
of a night on the stoop
and all that we wouldn't say.

If I see you again
on the street by the beach
in the evening
will you fly like a bird
stealing bread out from under my nose?

-o-

I needed to know those things, but I guess that how she found out about most of my problems.

"I wanted to make you feel beautiful all the time. I wanted to make you feel the way I felt when I looked at you." (Never happened.)

Post Secret

I am NEVER sarcastic. Whatever I say, I mean.

If what you're going to do is complain and feel worse about what I write here, then I suggest you don't. Sooner or later you might find something that just will be a bit hard to swallow.

For your own good and mine.

Please.

She did not "do good", she did "incredibly good."