Sex & Affection

They are two very different things in a relationship. Lack of sex means lack of communication. There can still be incredible sex between people who hardly know each other but that's another thing entirely, that's called chemistry and, well, we humans are animals after all. Sexual attraction between certain people cannot be helped.

Affection and sex are, srot of, the "ying & yang" in a relationship, if there's too much of one and hardly any of the other that relationship is bound to collapse, it doesn't matter which side is the one lacking.

Relationships that have their roots far too dug into just one side of this ying & yang will find problems related to the opposite side. There can be"too much" affection and the relationship will just turn a little bit too sweet; and we all know what happens when a relationship is solely based on sex.

Fairy tales tell stories of perfect "over-sugared" love in which all is based on affection. I have nothing against this but people, c'mon! We all know that sex is an important part of a relationship, it's the most intimate part of a relationship, it is where each partner is more vulnerable in front of the other and it's where each one shows the most confidence in the other.

Love is not only a story book, it's real life and sex is part of real life. A relationship needs these two halves to function appropriately.

Anyway, I had to get that off my chest.

Cheers

"Loves opens doors." They say.

It has for me and my most recent love has opened a door I thought I could not open. Two months now we have shared not only an opinion but other, more personal, spaces. she has my name engraved in her heart and I have her's in mine.

I never traveled in search for companion, I always thought I'd have one for the trip. But alas! As the say I found a tall brunette to accompany me in my search for whatever it is I'm searching. In between antique furniture and turning clocks, raging cuckoos and ancient grandfathers we exchange words of past, present and future. It's bizarre how clocks can make a person talk about distinct periods of his life.

The last name of a weapon, her name screams antiquity, and I scream for the understanding she gives me. I found a companion whom I'd turn the world around for.

I found her.

Me entero y me alegro.

Está frecuentando lugares distintos, tal vez no los favoritos pero aún así lugares que le puedan despejar la mente. Lugares nuevos que la lleven a tener nuevas experiencias.

Tengo celos, lo admito, celos de los buenos. Siempre me preocuparé por ella, por su vida y por estado mental. Es fuerte y creo que mas de lo que ella creé.

Estos últimos tres años fueron buenos para mí, así los recuerdo. Lamentablemente, para ella, solo seré aquel tipo que le rompió el corazón.

De alguna manera me enteraré de tí, lo sepas tú o no, seguiré tu vida, celebraré tus logros, lamentaré tus fracasos, tendré tu persona y mi vida contigo en un pedestal.

Cuídate y se felíz. No queda de otra. No soy lo mejor para tu vida y nunca lo fuí, pero por el tiempo que duró se sintió perfecto.

Hasta que lo arruiné

Pero ya no voy a mirar hacia atras, la decisión la tomé tal vez por todas las razones incorrectas pero fué una decisión de cualquier manera. Todo acabó y creo qeu así es mejor para los dos. Estoy seguro que nuestro futuro es algo distinto a estar juntos.

Saludos

···He had old me about him going back home, how he saw all the people we used to hang out with. All of them had changed but the city remained the same.

···"It's amazing how that place remains the same." He said. "As much as people try to change that city still manages to swallow you up, even if you're only there for a few days." He looked down and took a drag form his cigarette. IT was his fifth since we started talking and the ashtray was beginning to fill up with ashes.

···"It's part of the reason I left in the first place. There's no way to change that city. Hell will always be hell, you cannot change that." He looked at me and my expression told him that I knew exactly what I was talking about. I had left the city long before he had and, although he does not know, it was for those same reasons.

···"You can never expect too much from a city, it has the buildings and people one will use to move forward. The city itself will never push you forward." That city seems to be stuck, visiting it ten years ago is the same as visiting it today.

···We talked about the trip, the one he'd made that probably wasted his time. Of how the people in that town that welcomed him so at first turned around and stabbed him in the back. He told that meeting me there was a relief at first but it was already too late, things had already taken their toll and the gears were already moving in an unstoppable direction. "Having you there was the best thing that happened to me even if we saw each other only as passer by. Seeing a familiar face somehow refreshed my days and, in a way, helped me remember that there are still people out there that are not hiding knives behind them."

···"People here are strange." I said. "It's as though they welcome you only for the perverted pleasure of watching you die afterwards. They believe that we're here to take their place when, in fact, we just want to find our own. Little do they realize that we want little to do with them." He looked at me and chuckled, some smoke came from his mouth as his lips open up for a laugh.

···"You have no idea how right you are, my friend."

···We were quiet after that. Our favorite bar was still pretty empty despite the late hour. Outside the weather was unusually warm.

···I guess the city had changed after all...

Hey, guess what.

SHE'S GOT IT!! SHE'S GOT IT!! SHE'S STILL GOT IT!!!!!!!!

Did she ever lose it?

Supongo que encontró lo que yo no le podía dar. Me alegro. Entre el gusto, calidéz y un toque de envidia, me alegro.

Yo también se lo que se siente.

¡Bendito el orgasmo!

···He stared right into the wall when he first came in. I didn't think he knew what to expect, nor did he, but his reaction was much welcomed. He drifted a bit form room to room as if remembering some forgotten memories he had in every inch the run down apartment. We're selling the place now, the walls are still white but the paint is peeling off.

···We decided not to sell anything but we're not keeping it either, every piece of memorabilia there will stay with the apartment, nothing will come out unless it's going straight to the dumpster, so we can forget whatever happened here, so no one would have to run into something like that in some random garage sale.

···Pictures and such we're burning, that life we had years ago is nothing more now, we're not supposed to relive those moments, those pictures taught to live far too much in the past and look little into the future. We are what we are right now because of those memories and what we are is stuck.

···When he was in the house I told him he could take whatever he wanted since we weren't keeping anything, he looked at me and shrugged in approval. He didn't take much though, I saw him bag a lighter and an ashtray, obviously he was still feeding this new (not so now) habit of his.

···We went outside and went up on the roof climbing the the front gate, we stood up there and he used his new lighter and ashtray to smoke another cigarette. We didn't talk all the time we we were up there, we just sat with our feet in the air while he blew smoke signals up in the air as if we needed help for something we didn't exactly knew.

···He left as soon as we got back to the ground. He only said and he disappeared around the corner along with his trail of smoke.

···The day before we had run into each other at the park again, him in his black winter coat and brown boots, he hardly ever shaved so we was as scruffy as the day I met him. We sat in a bench ignoring each others errands and obligations, for me at least my obligations had been cut to a minimum since being kicked out of school, he on the other hand was as free as he always was. I guess I was just keeping him from his freedom then.

···We talked, about the months that had gone by and how even though so many things have changed it always seems that the things immediately surrounding someone always stay the same. He was still living by himself, still feeding that habit he formed so he could meet that girl who he never talks about anymore; I'm still here with nothing to do really, just wasting my time and what little money I have. I told him I should've left weeks ago, but I didn't.

···The hardest thing to do is to go back." He said. I nodded agreeing with him. as if you put your whole life on the line for something so small that even failing at that seems to grand. Nobody really understands that you're in the fight of your life when you put everything on the line for something so small.

···I couldn't speak much after that. We were quiet for a few minutes until I told him that we were selling the apartment with everything in it and that we weren't' keeping anything. He told me he'd drop by if he could to check the old place out. I never thought he'd actually come.

ROOTLESS TREE

I want from you, is empty your head
But they say that you, don't stay in your bed
We do what we need to be free
And it leans on me, like a rootless tree

What I want from this is to learn to let go
But we fade at first, fracture the times
We go blind when we needed to see
And it leans on me, like a rootless...

So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you
And all that you do
I said leave it, leave it, leave it
It's nothin' to you
Hate me, hate me, hate me
So you can let me out, let me out, let me out
From havin' you around
Let me out, let me out, let me out

What I want from this
Is to learn to let go
No not from you
From all that is old
Killers re-invent and believe
And it leans on me, like a rootless...

So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you
And all that you do
I said leave it, leave it, leave it
It's nothin' to you
Hate me, hate me, hate me
So you can let me out, let me out, let me out
From havin' you around

So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you
And all that you do
I said leave it, leave it, leave it
It's nothin' in you
Hate me, hate me, hate me
So you can let me out, let me out, let me out
Let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out

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    Trato de no admitirlo, todo mundo aquí lo sabe pero lo escondo.  Soy el fracaso que nadia jamás quería que fuera.  Decepcioné a tanta gente de un solo golpe que no se que hacer conmigo mismo de ahora en adelante.  Decepcioné a mis padres, a mis amigos, a las personas mas influyentes en este campo en el que fracasé tan rotundamente. Soy un idiota, lo se, dejé todo para ganar absolutamente nada.

    Algunas personas se sentiran bien por mi malestar y las envidio, quisiera sentirme tan bien como se sienten, quisiera sentirme tan orgulloso de mi mismo por haber sobervivido lo suficiente para ver a este hombre/niño mostrar lo tan estúpido que es.

    Es otra ironía de mi vida, otra mas para la lista, otra mas para sumar a mi constante depresión con la que cargo ya desde hace tantos años.  Es sorprendente como no puedo tener ese balance perfecto de vida emocional y profesional, no puedo tener una sin sacrificar la otra y, lamentablemente no puedo vivír faltándome una.

    Mi vida ahoríta es una basura, no la entiendo y no se a donde va... estoy perdido y, mas que nunca, no tengo la menor idea como encontrarme...

... tal vez debería perderme permanentemente y nunca reaparecer.

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I cant say much more

¿Cómo se siente ser un fracaso?

Deja te cuento...

4 February 1980

Your date of conception was on or about 14 May 1979 which was a Monday.

You were born on a Monday
under the astrological sign Aquarius.
Your Life path number is 6.

Life Path Compatibility:
You are most compatible with those with the Life Path numbers 3, 6 & 9.
You should get along well with those with the Life Path numbers 2, 4, 8, 11 & 22.
You are least compatible with those with the Life Path numbers 1, 5 & 7.

The Julian calendar date of your birth is 2444273.5.
The golden number for 1980 is 5.
The epact number for 1980 is 13.
The year 1980 was a leap year.

Your birthday falls into the Chinese year beginning 1/28/1979 and ending 2/15/1980.
You were born in the Chinese year of the Goat.

Your Native American Zodiac sign is Otter; your plant is Fern.

You were born in the Egyptian month of Parmuthy, the fourth month of the season of Poret (Emergence - Fertile soil).

Your date of birth on the Hebrew calendar is 17 Shevat 5740.
Or if you were born after sundown then the date is 18 Shevat 5740.

The Mayan Calendar long count date of your birthday is 12.18.6.11.9 which is
12 baktun 18 katun 6 tun 11 uinal 9 kin

The Hijra (Islamic Calendar) date of your birth is Monday, 17 Rabi'u'l-Avval 1400 (1400-3-17).

The date of Easter on your birth year was Sunday, 6 April 1980.
The date of Orthodox Easter on your birth year was Sunday, 6 April 1980.
The date of Ash Wednesday (the first day of Lent) on your birth year was Wednesday 20 February 1980.
The date of Whitsun (Pentecost Sunday) in the year of your birth was Sunday 25 May 1980.
The date of Whisuntide in the year of your birth was Sunday 1 June 1980.
The date of Rosh Hashanah in the year of your birth was Thursday, 11 September 1980.
The date of Passover in the year of your birth was Tuesday, 1 April 1980.
The date of Mardi Gras on your birth year was Tuesday 19 February 1980.

As of 10/24/2006 9:25:32 AM EDT
You are 26 years old.
You are 320 months old.
You are 1,394 weeks old.
You are 9,759 days old.
You are 234,225 hours old.
You are 14,053,525 minutes old.
You are 843,211,532 seconds old.

Celebrities who share your birthday:
Brandon 'Bug' Hall (1985) Natalie Imbruglia (1975) Oscar De La Hoya (1973)
Lawrence Taylor (1959) Alice Cooper (1948) Dan Quayle (1947)
David Brenner (1945) Betty Friedan (1921) Ida Lupino (1918)
Rosa Parks (1913) Clyde W. Tombaugh (1906) Charles Lindbergh (1902)

Top songs of 1980
Lady by Kenny Rogers Upside Down by Diana Ross
Call Me by Blondie Starting Over by John Lennon
Another Brick In the Wall by Pink Floyd Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Queen
Rock with You by Michael Jackson Magic by Olivia Newton-John
Funkytown by Lipps, Inc. Another One Bites the Dust by Queen

Your age is the equivalent of a dog that is 3.81956947162427 years old. (Life's just a big chewy bone for you!)

There are 103 days till your next birthday
on which your cake will have 27 candles.

Those 27 candles produce 27 BTUs,
or 6,804 calories of heat (that's only 6.8040 food Calories!) .
You can boil 3.09 US ounces of water with that many candles.

In 1980 there were approximately 3.6 million births in the US.
In 1980 the US population was approximately 226,545,805 people, 64.0 persons per square mile.
In 1980 in the US there were 2,406,708 marriages (10.6%) and 1,182,000 divorces (5.2%)
In 1980 in the US there were approximately 1,990,000 deaths (8.8 per 1000)
In the US a new person is born approximately every 8 seconds.
In the US one person dies approximately every 12 seconds.

In 1980 the population of Australia was approximately 14,807,370.
In 1980 there were approximately 225,527 births in Australia.
In 1980 in Australia there were approximately 109,240 marriages and 39,257 divorces.
In 1980 in Australia there were approximately 108,695 deaths.


Your birthstone is Amethyst

The Mystical properties of Amethyst

Amethyst is used to increase spiritually

Some lists consider these stones to be your birthstone. (Birthstone lists come from Jewelers, Tibet, Ayurvedic Indian medicine, and other sources)

Bloodstone, Onyx, Moonstone


Your birth tree is

Poplar, the Uncertainty

Looks very decorative, no self-confident behaviour, only courageous if necessary, needs goodwill and pleasant surroundings, very choosy, often lonely, great animosity, artistic nature, good organiser, tends to philosophy, reliable in any situation, takes partnership serious.


There are 62 days till Christmas 2006!
There are 75 days till Orthodox Christmas!

The moon's phase on the day you were
born was waning gibbous.

"Oh my God! It's ok. You just crushed my mammaries.!"

···If I find myway, how much will I find?

···I thought I could change things, I thought I could make things right, I thought I could fix my situation, I thought I could stop disappointing.

···If I fail once more I'm going to lose myself, I am going to disappoint myself and disappoint you...

... and you...
... and you...
... and you...
... and you...
... and you...
... and you...
... and you...
... and I'm going to lose you...

···After all the search, after all this time, after all the lives I've had to sacrifice to find this perfect niche... I'm going to lose you.

···This life will eventually kill me.

Fuck it!!!

I'm in deep shit.

   I don't know how to start this.

   I wrote it down on my journal a few days ago: "... It's bad to disappoint other people, worse when you disappoint yourself..." Funny how that works the other way around with me. I'm used to disappointing myself, I'm used to bringing myself down because of different reasons, I just cant get used to disappointing another person, specially those that worked so hard to help me and gave me opportunities. I've found that these are the people I hurt the most.

   I'm failing miserably at what I'm doing right now. It seems as like I'm doing all this on purpose but It's not so, I'm trying, I really am but I just can't seem to understand whats going on. It's as if I know all I need to know before the tests and as soon as i put my hand in the first paper bag my mind goes blank, completely blank.

   I haven't been in school in more than four years... I say, ... I cant get used to sitting down on a chair and cram like I used to." It used to be that I didn't have problems like these, I would be able to go through a test, not necessarily ace it, but do above average. I was never the worst average in my class.

   I was never like this. When did I become like this?

by Powderfinger

It's coming round again
slowly creeping hand
of time and its command
soon enough it comes
and settles in its place
its shadow in my face
puts pressure in my day

This life well it's slipping right through my hands
these days turned out nothing like I had planned

It's coming round again
the slowly creeping hand
of time and its command
it settles in its place
its shadow in my face
puts pressure in my day
soon enough it comes
here it is again
slowly creeping hand
time and it's command
soon enough it comes
settles in it's place
puts pressure in my day
undignified and lame

This life well it's slipping right through my hands
These days turned out nothing like I had planned
Control well it's slipping right through my hands
these days turned out nothing like I had planned

Soon enough it comes
soon enough it comes
too tie us down

It's coming round again
Slow...slowly creeping hand

This life well it's slipping right through my hand
These days turned out nothing like I had planned
Control well it's slipping right through my hand
These days turned out nothing like I had planned

   Look at me.

... this is me wasting away the best opportunity of my life.
... this is me disappointing myself.
... this is me showing the world I cant do crap.
... this is me showing the world I cannot side bones.
... this is me throwing my life away.
... this is me, not coming home if I fail.
... this is me disappointing everyone hat believed in me.
... this is me trying to act calmly about it.
... this is me about to break down.
... this is me not realizing what my priorities are.
... this is me not being all that I can be.
... this is me not BELIEVING I can be anything at all.
... this is me giving this program they're wost student.
... this is me not knowing what I'm going to do with my life.
... this is me not prioritizing.
... this is me not feeling up to par.
... this is me feeling intimidated.
... this is me tired of excuses.
... this is me so tired and only 26 years old.
... this is me writing this when I should be looking at fragments.
... this is me realizing I'm no good at what I do.
... this is me feeling heavier than anyone else.
... this is me exactly how I thought I would end up being.

... the failure that I am.

   If the worst happens, I'm sorry, but I'm not coming back. I'm not showing my face back there again.

- "SOCK IT TO ME!!! She quoted with a hint of excitement.
- "I wish." I replied half-jokingly but mostly wishing she were serious.

Room of Angel
Akira Yamaoka

You lie silent there before me
your tears they mean nothing to me
the wind howling at the window
the love you never gave
I give to you

Really don't deserve it
but now there's nothing you can do
so sleep in your only memory of me
my dearest mother

Here's a lullaby to close your eyes good-bye
it was always you that I despised
I don't feel enough for you to cry oh well
here's a lullaby to close your eyes good-bye
goodbye
goodbye

So insignificant
sleeping dormant deep inside of me
are you hiding away lost
under the sewers
maybe flying high in the clouds
perhaps you're happy without me
so many seeds have been sown in the field
and who could sprout up so blessedly
if I had died
I would have never felt sad at all
you will not hear me say I'm sorry
where is the light
wonder if it's weeping somewhere

Here's a lullaby to close your eyes good-bye
it was always you that I despised
I don't feel enough for you to cry oh well
here's a lullaby to close your eyes good-bye

Here's a lullaby to close your eyes good-bye
it was always you that I despised
I don't feel enough for you to cry oh well
here's a lullaby to close your eyes good-bye
good-bye
good-bye
good-bye
good-bye

Here's a lullaby to close your eyes good-bye
it was always you that I despised
I don't feel enough for you to cry oh well
here's a lullaby to close your eyes good-bye

Here's a lullaby to close your eyes good-bye
it was always you that I despised
I don't feel enough for you to cry oh well
here's a lullaby to close your eyes good-bye
good-bye
good-bye
good-bye
good-bye

   She told me: "How could you to this to me?

   It's happened again, I keep making the same mistake over and over again, why? I don't know, maybe I don't want to know the answer to that, maybe I'm scared to find out that I'm destined to be alone for the rest of my life. They say some people aren't made to fit with other people, they're meant to be alone and not bother others, maybe I'm one of those, maybe I'm supposed to watch the rest of the world find whatever and whoever completes them.

   I've taken that chorus very seriously, trying to understand why it fits so much with how I see the world. How life disappointed me is my own personal war, my own little strife, my own mission to accomplish. I'm almost done with it just the same as I've almost been done with it so many times before.

   It's just so tiring, too expecting of me. People constantly expect something from me when all I do is try NOT to give them hope for anything, yet people still believe the lies, people still buy the words and stupidities that come from my head, the writings from my hands and the ink that stains my fingertips. All these lies, all this fake, make-believe life I've made up for myself.

   It's bad when you disappoint other people, it's worse when you disappoint yourself and being as low as I am right now, it took quite an effort to disappoint me once again. But maybe that's what I'm here for, to make people believe in me and promptly destroy they're hopes of me, maybe I'm that person that teaches the world that you can't trust anybody else. Maybe I'm that kind of asshole. Maybe I'm like those people I hate, maybe that explains why I hate myself so much sometimes.

   It's amazing how my best effort amounts only to mediocrity, It's amazing how I've made so far without forgetting how to breath. So I'm poisoning myself slowly so people cant say a word when I die, suicide is too predictable, everyone expects that from me because I've mentioned it before, I've had the blade to my wrist, I've the pills in my mouth.

   So I constantly disappoint, I constantly make people have the wrong idea of me then slowly show them who I really am, just a leech, just someone taking up space and not just breathing someone else can take but poisoning the rest for other around me. I'm a walking, living, breathing, coughing, contaminating, trampelling, destroying "Pigpen."

   The poison I have for breakfast is the same I have for lunch, dinner and in between. I'm far from quitting, if I'm ever quitting at all.

   It's easier to poison myself slowly.

Sittin on the beach, the island king of love deep in fijian seas, deep in some blissful dream. Where the goddess finally sleeps
In the lap of her lover subdued in all her rage and I'm aglow with the taste of the demons driven out and happily replaced with the presence of real love the only one who saves.

I wanna dance with you.
I see a world where people live and die with grace.
The karmic ocean dried up and leave no trace.
I wanna dance with you.
I see a sky full of the stars that change our minds,
and lead us back to a world we would not face.

The stillness in your eyes convinces me that I don't know a thing and I been around the world and I've tasted all the wines a half a billion times came sickened to your shores. You show me what this life is for.

I wanna dance with you.
I see a world where people live and die with grace.
The karmic ocean dried up and leave no trace.
I wanna dance with you.
I see a sky full of the stars that change our minds,
and lead us back to a world we would not face.

In this altered state.
Full of so much pain and rage,
you know we got to find a way to let it go.

Sitting on the beach, the island king of love deep in Fijian seas, deep in the heart of it all where the goddess finally sleeps after eons of war and lifetimes, she's smiling and free. Nothing left but a cracking voice and a song, oh lord.

I wanna dance with you.
I see a world where people live and die with grace.
The karmic ocean dried up and leave no trace.
I wanna dance with you.
I see a sky full of the stars that change our minds,
and lead us back to a world we would not face.

I would not face.
I would not face.
I would not face.
I would not face.
I would not face.

I swear to God, I'm trying to stop. It's just so comfortable to disappoint myself as I have been doing lately. One more crash into the ground wouldn't do me much harm when all I know are bruises and bleeding scabs.

I'm another person now, one you wouldn't recognize. You'd see me and not give me a second look yet a memory would cross your mind and you'll think you've seen me somewhere before, maybe in another time, maybe in another life, maybe being another person.

Maybe I never was the person that you thought I was.

HA! Now all this shit makes perfect sense.

   How was I supposed to react. That last hug you gave me and the words you said, I didn't really understand what was happening until we were all waiting for you at the pub doors. I'm glad I wasn't let in, I'm glad I didn't have to see anything more than I already did. The images I made up in my head were enough to give me a sleepless night.

   So, now what am I supposed to do? Sacrificing what I did I'm back to where I started, I haven't moved forward and It's days like these that show me I haven't moved at all.

   I shouldn't have done what I did, I shouldn't have hoped, I shouldn't have trusted.

   At least, thank you for the heads up. It didn't do much though.

By Joseph Arthur

I picture you in the sun wondering what went wrong,
And falling down on your knees asking for sympathy.
And being caught in between all you wish for and all you seen.
And trying to find anything you can feel that you can believe in.

May gods love be with you.
Always,
May gods love be with you.

I know I would apologize if I could see your eyes,
cause when you showed me myself I became someone else.
But I was caught in between all you wish for and all you need.
I picture you fast asleep
A nightmare comes,
You cant keep awake.

May gods love be with you.
Always,
May gods love be with you.

Cause if I find.
If I find my own way,
How much will I find?
If I find.
If I find my own way,
How much will I find?
You.

I dont know anymore.
What its for?
Im not even sure.
If there is anyone who is in the sun
Will you help me to understand?
Cause I been caught in between all I wish for and all I need
Maybe youre not even sure what its for,
Any more than me.

May gods love be with you.
Always,
May gods love be with you.

Good Life Lyrics
Francis Dunnery

Softly Now,
You owe it to the world.
And everyone knows that you're my favourite girl,
But there's some things in life that are not meant to be.
I'm not meant for you and your not meant for me.

Here's to our problems
And here's to our fights.
Here's to our achings
And here's to you having a Good life
From Me
Good Life.

Softer Now,
You owe it to yourself.
And don't think that you will be left on the shelf,
Cause there's someone for you and there's someone for me.
Like me you'll meet them eventually.

Here's to your lover
And here's to my wife.
Here's to your children and here's to you having a good life
From Me.
Good Life.

Louder Now,
You've lost all your pain
You're married with children and happy again
And now I'm regretting the move that I made
Fatal mistakes are so easily made.
Enough of my problems they only cause fights.
Forget that I rang you
And promise you'll have such a
Beautifully happy and painlessly romantic
Good life,
From Me.

Good Life.

···I dreamt her last night again. After so many months without even imagining her in less than a week I¿I've dreamt her twice. She had changed though, almost the same but some details were different, her hair was short again, she had lost weight, a lot, and looked great.

···I dreamt we were at a house of some relatives of mine. I had snuck into her room and we had incredible sex, we had to do it on the floor because the be was to noisy. Apparently, we knew this already. I went out of her room so nobody would suspect a thing and went into mine to sleep planning to wake up a couple of hours later and surprise her in the middle of the night the way I used to do when I spent the night at her place. Unfortunately I ended sleeping in until later afternoon and missed a plane I was supposed to take, I have no idea where.

···I don't what these dreams anymore. My sexual frustration does not improve with dreams like these, I'd rather be cold and collected. Sleep is supposed to be my only private sanctum but, as it seems, even that has been breached.

···I need a fucking break from all these people I'm gonna end up hating.

To have you.

That is all I want.

Damn you for being so far away.

... and I quote:

"...nothing more than a despicable, vindictive and spiteful human being."

Few things surprise me these days. Why? Because it's about time I stop letting everything surprise me, but that's what I get for saying what i feel.

This girl I know, she told he had moved away. She told me that I shouldn't even feel bad because he didn't say goodbye to anyone. He just left, him, his new smoking habit and his notebook. He left most of his stuff here along with a note saying that we could keep or sell everything, he didn't care, he wasn't coming back.

I think he's moved on

I HATE TARSALS!!!

   I'm thrown away into the air, not something that would kill me but something that'll help me fly. You've got this rhythm, this beat in your step that lightens your body, it lightens the air.

   I'm high enough to write something down and send it to you; a letter or a three words, a thousand pages read in one second.
   I'm high enough to see the whole town, the house where you live and where we first became lovers. I'm high enough to see.

By STARS

Try as he might he's unable to speak,
He grabs her by the hair, he strokes her on the cheek.
The bed is unmade like everything is,
Dark little heaven at the top of the stairs.
Take me like that, ruin it all,
Then build it again by the light in the hall.
He drops to his knees says please my love, please,
I'll kill who you hate, take off that dress, you won't freeze.

One more night, that was a good one,
One more night, i dreamed it was a good one.
One more, one more night, that was a good one,
One more night, the end should be a good one.
A good one.

He starts with her back cause that's what he sees,
When she's breaking his heart she still fucks like a tease.
Release to the sky, look him straight in the eye,
And tell him that now, that you wish he would die.
You'll never touch him again so get what you can
Leaving him empty just because he's a man.
So good when it ends, they'll never be friends
One more night, that's all they can spend.

One more night, that was a good one,
One more night, i dreamed it was a good one.
One more, one more night, that was a good one,
One more night, the end should be a good one.

...wishing you were here...
...wishing you never left...

... tugging your skirt saying "please, please, please...

    -"One never knows what to expect," he spoke to himself "...but one always expects the best." He finished that sentence trying to actually believe it. He cursed all his decisions up until this exact moment, yet that never means he would change. He never does, its too difficult for him. He would be able to keep the change for a few days but his monsters always came back, monsters he always kept to himself and hoped no one else found out. Maybe that's he stayed away from most people, he was scared of them finding out who he really was, who he really wanted to be if it weren't for all the social bigotry that would entail.

   He saw him walk away that day at the park after exploding in anger and self pity:

   He just stood up and left, without a word, without much more than a sigh and a hit from his cigarette. He was gone for good I had hoped. It is an unfortunate situation when all that I said I completely meant. As I watched walk away I couldn't help but be scared that I'd never see him ever again but I caught myself sighing in relief. I stood up that after a few minutes of watching the people in the park, the "normal" people, the one who have enough commodity to be running on the green grass while I'm banging my head against my bedroom wall every night from frustration and insatisfaction.

   Nobody seems to care that he's in the fight for his life, no one around seems to understand how life disappoints him 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.

   But he keeps all of this inside, inside him, inside his room and in that dent on his bedroom wall. Just the other day after a extremely disappointing afternoon he banged his head in that familiar spot and noticed something warm sliding down my face, the carpet was dotted red and so was the dent in the wall. He cleaned up what he could and put up a picture to cover the hole. Most people would stop after that, the smell and sight of blood would make people freak out and reconsider, as if blood was something so fucking priceless. Most people don't realize that I have just as much as most and that makes me just one more from the crowed.

   -"I'm tired of this," he said to himself but then chuckled to in his own silence and heard himself say...

    -"You always say the same thing, you stupid fuck."

... So I'll clear the road, the gravel and the thornbush in your path...
... Love is a scene I render when you catch me wide awake...

So, I got this the other day...

... my new habit.
... my expensive habit.
... my bad habit.
... my " unsuccessful intent on spending more time with you" habit.
... my habit I'm really starting to like.

   I remember all too well, when you opened your door I couldn't help but how I fell to the floor.

All I could say was that I was ashamed to break your heart then piece together again. But I still like to stay awake, scare the past away and spend the night indoors for a change. But all I can do is take you hole late, as much as one needs to, our lives are still tide to someone else.

   So we cut our ties and our bloody chains that holds us down, we'll go away and mix our bodies under the sun.

We'll walk through stones and over water to get where we haven't touched and have only thought of before. We'll find our world over other people's ruins.

WAITING FOR A SUPERMAN (THE FLAMING LIPS)
As sung by Iron & Wine

I asked you a question, but i didn't need you to reply.
“Is it gettin' heavy,” but then i realized
“is it gettin' heavy.”
Well, I thought it was already as heavy as can be.

“Is it overwhelming, to use a crane to crush a fly.”
It's a good time for Superman to lift the sun into the sky
'cause it's gettin' heavy.
Well, i thought it was already as heavy as can be.

Tell everybody waitin' for Superman
that they should try to hold on the best they can,
he hasn't dropped them, forgot them, or anything.
It's just too heavy for Superman to lift.

"I think I'm tired of this fucking game." He thought to himself. Everything that's happened since all of this started was just building up toward whimpering finale. He always thought there was a possibility but that was just his own personal sick motivation driving him crazy as it always does.

It wasn't the first time he was let down but that certainly did not make it feel any better. She'd call him over or pay any attention to him whenever a certain group of people were not present and even that was not a guarantee of any kind. He'd still be left sitting by himself waiting for a reaction.

He had changed so much in so little time, he was the first to admit it, if not to himself, at least to me. The smoking, the driving, the drinking, the late nights. Everybody thinks it was a way for him to socialize or to mis in with the group he wanted to belong to when, in fact, it was only a way for him to be close to her.

So many things changed in him without him even noticing until later on. His illness in the bedroom disappeared and he was so excited about this, yet felt wasted for it not being used. He doesn't know what cured him but he knows everything here had something to do and he's been dying to show off to somebody. He's the only one in his group to remain "sober" after coming here, not because he didn't want to but because all of his attempts have ended up with him going home by himself.

Just like last night, he came home smelling of cigarette smoke and alcohol, by himself, let down and looking down at the ground as if he was trying to memorize the patterns on the carpet. I bet he soon will.

I don't know what he's getting out of this or what he's losing for that matter, but I think he's realizing that it's not a fair trade and that he's putting a lot more than he's getting back, I can see that on his face and in his expression, he's sad and he'd like this for some time but now, he's just absolutely frustrated.

I haven't seen him since that day at the park, all I know is from what people have told me about him. They say he's drinking and smoking too much: they say they hardly recognized him.

They say he's thinking of leaving again...

September 11th, 2006

My apartment is starting too much like my parents house, that stench of smoke was impregnating everything, my clothes, furniture, the whole freakin' place. Scented candles aren't worth shit when you start smoking and I've been smoking a lot.

Three weeks today, actually. Three weeks since I've started buying packs of cigarettes still trying to figure out which ones are my favorites. Right now the unfiltered ones are doing the job. It's strange how much l'm resembling my father.

I haven't left my place ever since I walked out on him at the park, remember my friend I talked to you about? I've been calling in sick to school and work; I gave myself my own private vacation. Maybe you've asked yourself why haven't you seen me around, if you actually care. I've kept my distance from you because of he last conversation we had, I cant remember when it was or where, all I know is that I have no idea where this is going. The only consolation is that you don't know much more than me either. So basically I feel like I'm wasting my fucking time and I think It's about time I stop doing that.

I walked outside for a few minutes just to have a smoke in the cool air that was blowing outside, somehow a cigarette tastes better when it's cold, don't you think?. I bought another pack just to have as a back up and the guy from the store asked me about you and how he hasn't seen us hanging around, "She has better things to do, I guess" I replied on my way to the door. He said something else but I did not lend an ear to listen. I had already been outside for far longer than I wanted to.

I understand where you're coming from and what you don't want from all of this, but theres so much I thought I could get from you. I'm not disappointed or mad, just confused, you know? We simply can't seem to speak when we're face to face.

You know as much as I do that I cant wait and I wont, also, you know that I'm not interested in anyone else so at least that comforts me; at least I wont be pressured or put down by another rejection.

I'm planning on calling him again soon (my friend, I mean). I know I talk too much about him but he's the only person I have here that I can trust (besides you) and I think I might have hurt his feelings just walking away that day but, to say the truth, I was getting so fucking pissed with his attitude, I know I've probably driven him crazy with all this but that's exactly why I go to him, he's the only one that can help me out.

So I'm gathering myself for something, or most likely nothing, whatever happens that's what It'll be.

We'll just have to wait and see, I guess.

Right?

So I just left him there, sitting in the park bench. I couldn't' really take what he was saying anymore. That uptight fuck just didn't understand what I was going through.

I lit up a new cigarette on my way home, I still cant get used to my fingers smelling like tobacco, after all those years trying to get the people around me to quit I end up becoming a smoker. Just goes to show how much can change in so little time.

These past couple of weeks have seen me do things I wouldn't normally do. I told him my story but I didn't tell him everything, I never say everything I have to say for the fear of becoming too vulnerable in front of the wrong person. Spilling your own secrets randomly can lead to a very, very crappy outcome.

I decided to walk this time instead of taking the bus as I usually do. I just wasn't in the mood for crying babies and smelly bus-people, all I needed was to get home, open a blank page and hope my pen has enough. The music in my ears and the smoke in my mouth kept me busy until I got home, to this shitty, gritty apartment shared by no one except myself. It was all I could afford and it's more than I need.

My apartment consists of you lower than standard necessities, the chair and table being my most used and important pieces. I could almost wear that table down with how hard I press my pen against my notebooks. I've never brought him or anybody here though, not for being embarrassed at how the place looks, I couldn't care less, but because is what little space I have that I can call my own; not even my notebooks that used to be my best kept secret seem to have lost that appeal to me. Sometimes it's too hard for me to start writing after a full day of whatever the fuck I was doing.

I opened up my newest notebooks to the next blank page, trying to not read whatever expectation I wrote down on the few pages before that. After this morning I thought I would have something incredible to write about, but all I could think about was this afternoon, the awkward rejection, my stepping out of the longest friendship I've had and really wanting never to see him again. I just couldn't stand his way of belittleing all of my issues, his way of trying to find an answer for everything when all I wanted was someone to just shut the fuck up and listen.

He couldn't even do that.

So now I'm sitting in my only chair with my drink and smoke in my shitty table looking out at the window getting familiarized with the sounds coming from outside.

This is a shitty place, as shitty as I'm feeling right now.

-"The weekend of my life, I guess." He said.

We'd been sitting on a bench at the park for at least half an hour until he broke the silence with what he said.

-"You always were kind of dramatic, you know." I replied really believing that, not just trying to give him a hard time. "It's hard for me to define the rest of my life over what happened in two days." He tucked his head down into his chest, these last couple of days the weather has given us a little taste of the winter to come. His hands were buried in his sweatshirt pockets coming out only to steal a hit for the cigarette burning in the ashtray.

-"You've just never been me," he answered with just a hint of anger, as if he's been trying, unsuccessfully, to make me understand all this time, "you've just never been in a situation when you realize you're in the fight for your life." He turned his head and blew the smoke he still had in his lungs. "Yes, I am dramatic, but that's how I've lived all of my life and I cant do otherwise, not now, I'm too old and tired."

I tried to understand but his constant disappearings and sudden sunken depressions were starting to get to me, his bad vibes we're sinking into me and I was starting to feel just as tired, just as old as he was.

-"I cant continue doing this anymore, I can't have much more drama in my life than I have right now. You're sucking me dry over something that should've been fixed long ago, or maybe, possibly, it never should have happened. Instead I'm here listening to you tell your story over and over again as if you really had something new to say but you always manage to dwell in the same hole for too long, far too long for me to keep caring anyway."

There was this strange silence in the whole park after I finished saying that last word, I was surprised to actually realize that I had said that out loud. It was strange how I felt every fucking nerve in my body react to so much anxiety yet he stood still and pale. He tried taking another hit from his cigarette and realized it had gone out, he sighed with disappointment but stood not surprised.

He gave me a glance and said it was time to go. He stood up and without saying goodbye he started walking down the street towards a part of town I've never gone to.

I could still hear that last sigh coming from him, it made a shiver run down my spine and shook my bones. For the first time in all these years I was afraid that today could be the last day I'll ever see him.

He then disappeared again, as he usually does. After a while knowing one starts to not worry about these things he does. You'd be in a group with him at a bar or a party talking with him and having fun and suddenly he'd walk out the room and disappear, sometimes for fifteen minutes, an hour, sometimes for a day, sometimes for weeks.

You'd hear stories from people that have seen him, most of these stores do not include a conversation, only a sighting as if use his disappearings to try and become something more than he already is, like a legend or urban myth. He walks around in the cold at night with nothing but his notebook and cigarettes looking for details, trying to find a reason to sit down somewhere and write.

You'd always see him write, either on that ever-changing notebook of his that nobody gets to read, in a napkin or on his hands, there were a couple of times where I'd run into him only to shake his hand where I noticed that his palms and back of his hands were filled with his unique handwriting, letters and words only he understands, that only he can read. Nobody really knows why he writes, he just does. He's shown some of his writings and I have to admit that a few are really good but most is crap. He'd be very protective what he shows people though, as if he didn't want people know too much about him. He might actually be thinking we know alot when in fact we know nothing.

I haven't heard from him and I haven't asked but I still cant help and look around every once in while, when I'm at the bar he likes, just in case I find him so we can, maybe, share a few words.

Feelings were always his weakness, he'd fall for a girl and that would haunt him for months, he'd scribble her name here and there trying to find words that rhymed, trying to come up with a phrase that could open a way into her heart, or maybe into his own psyche. I don't think he really understands himself sometimes.

He is missed, but I guess he needs to vanish every now and then. Sometimes I think it's his own strange therapy where he goes to recollect himself and try to find himself. He's been lost for so long, he just needs a helping hand to help him walk his own path. I know I cant do that, I'm not what he needs right now, he only comes to me when he has interacting things to say, he only comes to me when theres nothing better to do.

Whatever he did to this girl I know he regrets it, It's just who he is, it's what he does and he cant help it. If you ask him to forget about it he'll leave the conversation and walk away disgusted.

His conscience is probably his biggest flaw.

Thanks d!O for a good tribute to my non-hero, the australian crocodile guy.

CRIKEY!

-"Days passed and nothing happened," he said while looking out through the window. The rain had trailed away along with the weekend and left him with some memories he didn't intend to forget.

-"Few words were barely exchanged. Sometimes a simple 'hello' or 'goodbye' seem to feel like a fucking effort." He continued after realizing nothing more interesting was happening outside.

It had been sometime after our last night out drinking. He had disappear for longer that I had actually thought. It certainly didn't feel that long to me, maybe because, even thought I don't really like to admit it, I didn't really miss him, that or I just simply thought he'd eventually come back

-"The awkwardness set it that night I guess, when we were both outside in the car just talking, not even smoking anymore." He told me It was her second time quitting and It was his first just barely having started smoking for the first time. I couldn't really still believe he was sitting there in front of me with with a cigarette in his hand. Never in my 25+ years of knowing had I seen him even interested in it.

His ashtray was full, which told me he had been there at least a couple of hours before he finally called me to tell me where he was so I could join him.

-"There was this strange silence in that car, it wouldn't have made much difference if church bells had been ringing, either way, that silence was a foreboding that something that barely even started was going to end."

-"Did you tell her what you did?" I asked really just being attentive and polite. I already knew the answer but it was the only thing I should ask to keep the conversation going and that was what he wanted, he needed to say with his own words what everybody else around already knew from all the gossip. Or at least what they thought they knew.

"I told her things would change, trying to finally sound convinced of something, you know? And I really am. It's just that maybe I took too long to actually make the words come out. I just have no idea."

He took a hit out of his newly lit cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. The amount of smoke coming from his mouth reminded me of his father and how strange it was that he blew so much more smoke than anybody else. I guess he's more like his father than we know. This scene was becoming a bit too distracting due to me not being able to be something other than surprised that he had taken up this habit.

-"She just said 'OK' and stared at the brick wall of her apartment building as if counting the bricks or looking for cracks. She felt distant since when I called her that morning."

This was becoming more of a monologue, more like a confessional me being the priest and him being on his knees telling me all this. He told that since then the few words they've spoken to each other have been superficial at best. He talked about how every time they'd' see each other he'd catch a glint of a smile that she'd try to hide from everyone else, trying to keep everything a secret as if that made it all more interesting and exciting, and he said it did. Everyone did try to keep these kinds of things to themselves, specially if it involved other people in the same group.

"Here, see this? It's a moon." he told me she was saying to him, "And if you hold it like this it'll tell you where it goes." "It was as if she transformed and became someone else. I don't blame her after all that happened. She's avoided me ever since."

-"The drunken nights were some of my most entertaining moments I've had." He said, making that familiar grin and taking a sip from his coffee. another habit he'd recently started. Apparently this new town he and I had shared with before he disappeared had become their playground. At least for a few days.

We continued talking over lunch but things got fuzzy after that. I could tell he wanted to keep talking about but felt as if he'd said enough for one day. I knew he was scared as hell of what had happened these last couple of days and that he'd try anything to make everything alright again. Neither him nor I knew what would come after all of this, the uncertainty bothered him terribly and it was making him feel his age

It's incredible how much you can age in two nights.

   This is me being taken for granted. It's not hard to say that never found myself so alone. It's easy to disappoint, It's better to place the blame on a name and point the finger at someone else.

   I'm being taken for granted, one day the sun will decide that it's time for him to rest for a while. Even then, in chaos and desperation, I'm expected to react, even then I'm taken for granted.

Summer after spring, like the dampness after rain. I'm to do what I'm expected, achieve but never control.
A wish after a shooting star, a dream while you sleep. Few care that mine are nightmares and that a shooting star is rarely seen.

   This is me being taken for granted. If you only knew how deeply you can cut with words, even deeper than with none at all.
   Am I trying to disappoint? Am I gong back to the room where everything new decided to die along with the rest of my soul?

   This is me being taken for granted, this is me being left behind.

   Es un desperdicio de nuestro tiempo viajar por todo este mundo y tener nuestros momentos. Es una lástima creer que todo esto lo creamos para olvidar; los insultos y los atardeceres, las fotos obligadas y sin merecer.

   Estamos haciendo esto por costumbre, nos están llevando de la mano pero las ya no se encuentran.

   En cuanto anochezca me volveré a ir. Nunca había visto un ...ya no te amo traducido en una sola palabra. Nunca había podido entender por qué no escucho tan bien como quisiera.

   Es un sentimiento mal acostumbrado esta sensación de haberme perdido en un lugar que conozco tanto. Es un sentimiento que me detiene el cuerpo; los silencios y las noches solo, las imágenes que no cambian y lo lejos que me siento.

   Continuamos un juego que no tiene el fin que queremos, ambos lo jugamos, uno de los dos tiene que salir perdiendo.

   En cuanto amanezca ya no estaré aquí. Nunca había visto un ... ya no te siento traducido en un rechazo, apenas sonreirías al instante de irme y te ni cuenta te dabas que nunca me fui.

   Es un desperdicio de nuestro tiempo esperar tanto si no nos damos nuestro espacio. Es una lástima que todo esto se desvanecerá como en una fotografía...