Last night I dreamt I bought a blue guitar and I was jamming with my dad.
To dream that you have or play a guitar, represents passion and emotion. It also relates to sexual connotations and may signal an erotic dream.
Blue represents truth, wisdom, heaven, eternity, devotion, tranquility, loyalty and openness. The presence of this color in your dream, may symbolize your spiritual guide and your optimism of the future. You have clarity of mind.
November 1st, 2007
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
I'M AND UNCA!!!
"It would be funny." The letter said.
"If she really knew why I decided to do what I did she would be worse off than she is now. It's just entertaining to see her play her little game, creating that world in which I had everything to do with how she feels now and she's left being the victim."
The letter had arrived that morning and had been sitting on the dining room table all afternoon until I got home from work. It was just waiting there, almost like a guest we were having over for dinner.
I went into my study to be alone and to read it. It was heavy, a number of pages folded up perfectly. His writing was still uncanny, his almost obsessive-compulsive habit of taking up almost every single blank space with writing.
He started off his letter with menial, typical things. The weather, work, the long-winded wait his girl and him are having to go through in order to make all this procedure as legal and crystal-clear as possible.
It wasn't until midway through the third page that things took the turn they usually do.
"She's still bitter and that's fine with me. I've had enough of feeling guilty of what I did, it makes fee like puking, almost hormonal. I don't intend to do a thing about it though, it's her life she's leading and if she wants to do it this way it's her own decision."
His hand writing, if you've seen it before is this perfect series of straight lines. Seen from far away you'd think he was only scribbling, not really writing, but taking a closer look you'd find these words in between words, two lines of text inside a single line of a ruled sheet. It's almost scary to look at.
"What she needs to remember though, is this: Even if she makes everyone believe that she had absolutely nothing to do with what happened, she still has to live with that resentment she has towards me, she still has to almost schedule certain part of her day to hate."
My eyes soon started to hurt from reading the letter. Reading his notebooks at length will do that to you. Suddenly you'd notice words moving, or you skipping a line because of how close together he writes them. I had to stand up and rub my eyes several times to let them rest. Looking out the window helps, that way your eyes remember what the normal world really looks like.
"But, like I was saying in the beginning. If she really knew why I did what I did she would probably hate me more than she does now. She thinks I left her for someone, when in fact I left her for something, which ultimately I didn't get anyways."
Those two words written in bolder writing, he never specified what it was but I had an idea.
"It's ironic how I had left her weeks before I had even met my future wife."
That's something that I had already known, but we never talked about. It was easy to see what was missing in his life.
"Life plays an unfair game with everyone. Time is supposed to help you heal, but it's only willing to help if you're willing to give something back. I lived through my penance, I gave myself as much shit and hard times as one man can give himself, but I became tired of it, I had enough of feeling like shit over something I had to do."
By this time I had grown used to his handwriting and I was flipping through the pages as if they were the a novel, the ones he always gave me a hard time for reading.
"I just hope this all ends for the best, the best being me far away from here, smoking a cigarette with my wife, watching a movie, our kitten sleeping soundly at our feet. I don't care about anything or anyone else right now, the time has come to give myself exactly what I've always wanted. Something I've already found."
His letter ended quite abruptly, I was almost sure that pages were missing so I searched in vain. Everything was there, all ten pages of words and thoughts. He had left months ago pursuing something, pursuing "his" thing, showing the world he deserves what he has and he had to do what he had to do.
"One thinks that in a relationship of several years feeling exactly same as you felt when that relationship began is the greatest feeling in the world. For me, it just felt like it was going nowhere."
He definitely wasn't "nowhere" anymore and, as far as I can see, he's starting to find the places he's been looking for all these years.
Like a home.
In the grammatically incorrect words of one of my favorite places...
"Jaded people are J A D E D!"
There are people who still cannot see to get over what happened. Big deal, a relationship got fucked. Everyone makes mistakes.
But what are you doing now? I haven't heard from you in so long. You left me hanging a few months ago saying that you had to leave to do something important and I haven't heard from you since. I know where you are, I just don't
know HOW you are.
Your old apartment is still there, still reeking of cigarette smoke, trash and dirtier things that I'd rather not make too public. I'm keeping it just the way I found it that day when I went to look for you and you weren't there, I only found the open door and all your stuff gone. I mean, not even a note to say goodbye?
I stayed in the apartment for a couple of days trying to breath in your life, I thought maybe it could've given me a small glimpse of what you were going through. I didn't get anything, not from the smell, or the empty notebooks you left behind. Who were you planning to write those for?
I know it's dangerous where you are right now and I have no idea where you found the courage to go back. I know of the people that are still there and the kind of threats they've thrown at you. I know about all the whining and cursing you still hear in the background, all those supposed mistakes you made while you were there, I don't think they're worth trying to fix, I think it's better just to let them rot instead of hiding them in a closet showing the world how weak you can be sometimes. Either that or you might just be lazy.
Are you still standing strong? Are you still convinced this is the best thing to do? Things here are as you left them, I haven't moved a thing just in case someday you come back or appear out of nowhere like you usually do. Very few times did I get a heads up whenever you showed up.
I still can't get that stupid idea out of my head. You, smoking. What a trip it was to believe that. I guess some things are just more surprising than others. I guess people down there still see you with a cigarette in your hand and tell you "What the hell are you doing?" Trust me, i get that all the time.
So is everyone else still around? Are they still bitching at your heels trying to change your mind or make you feel guilty? Do you feel guilty? Something tells me you don't, you wouldn't be doing what your doing if you were. Knowing you you'd still be hitting your head against the wall realizing how you could've done things a little better. It's just the way you are.
Anyway, I hope at least where you are you're finding what your looking for. Know that at any time you have a home that's far away, a room where to sleep and a friend to talk shit with. I've been dying to know what kind shit has been happening down there. The kind of shit that makes you feel better about yourself, the type of shit that makes you say "Hey, at least I'm not as irresponsible, mediocre, pathetic and whiny as them."
"At least I left this god-awful city. Something some people could never do."
Flightless bird, American Mouth
Iron & Wine
I was a quick wet boy
Diving too deep for coins
All of your straight blind eyes
Wide on my plastic toys
And when the cops closed the fair
I cut my long baby hair
Stole me a dog-eared map
And called for you everywhere
Have I found you?
Flightless bird, jealous, weeping
Or lost you?
American mouth
Big bill looming
Now I’m a fat house cat
Cursing my sore blunt tongue
Watching the warm poison rats
Curl through the wide/white fence cracks
Kissing on magazine photos
Those fishing lures thrown in the cold and clean
Blood of Christ mountain stream
Have I found you?
Flightless bird, brown hair bleeding
Or lost you?
American mouth
Big bill, stuck going down
-0-
What does a life-time of search brought me?
A life-time looking for the right details to fill in the numbers of a life should be. The colors acquiring shape, the shapes building a whole different whole.
"An American mouth..." an ample embrace and love, a smile as simple and true, without fears, without resentments, without doubts. I've found more than I had baragained for. I played my cards and played them right.
A farm and a ticking house, scared sheep, lost guineas and dead ducks, letting the fire in the yards behind that old house dress us all the same in it's warmth, hearing the thunder land nearby unsure of how to come without frightening us, wanting our company, wanting our life.
The friendly dogs with clumsyness and slobber, undressing memories on top of the table around a piece of peanut butter pie. Walking the length of the porch at night, smoke from our hands filling our lungs with floatings words.
Dreaming in the ticking house, sleeping on a lumpy couch woken up be kisses from tongues other than yours.
A ticking house, a peanut butter pie, animals and a farm, an aritficial pond and dead ducks.
Resurrection Fern
Iron & Wine
In our days
We will live
Like our ghosts will live
Pitching glass at the cornfield crows
And folding clothes
Like stubborn boys across the road
We'll keep everything
Grandma's gun and the black bear claw
That took her dog
When sister always says, "Amen"
We won't hear anything
And ten car trains
We take that word
That fledgling bird
And the fallen house
Across the way
It'll keep everything
The babies' breath, our bravery wasted and our shame
And we'll undress beside the ashes of the fire
Both our tender bellies wound in baling wire
All the more a pair of underwater pearls
Than the oak tree and its resurrection fern
In our days
We will say
What our ghosts will say
We gave the world
What it saw fit
And what we get
Like stubborn boys
With big green eyes
We'll see everything
And the tender shade
Of the autumn leaves
And the buzzard's wing
And we'll undress beside the ashes of the fire
Our tender bellies are wound around in baling wire
All the more a pair of underwater pearls
Than the oak tree and its resurrection fern
-0-
God damn you , Sam Beam...
...and thank you.
Star Mile
"I need to write. HOly -shit do I need to write down some words." He said while lighting up another cigarette.
Things had changed since the last time he was around. I cant say he's better but I definitely cannot say that he's worse. It's difficult to explain, his face was the same but his voice was different, and I'm not talking about a change from the smoking, it was more like an elder speaking, a seasoned old man telling his tales.
"So, I'm getting married..." He told me with a smile. "It's the strangest feeling in the world. I wasn't nervous or anxious to propose, it all came so natural to me. It was as if I had breathed the words out."
He had told me about the girl months before but he never brought it up again, I had thought that nothing had come from it and that, like most things in his life, it had come to a premature end.
I knew life had been hard on him these past couple of years and during that time I wouldn't have been surprised if had gotten a call telling me that he had somehow died by his own hand. Now he's a changed man, like I said before, not better or worse, just more suited for what's to come.
"Are you sure about this?" I asked in between the smoke coming from his lips.
"As sure as I've ever been. For the first time there wasn't any fear or hesitation, I knew then that I had to take that momentum further and use for what I wanted to accomplish. I still have things to work out by myself but I know at least that part of my life is set."
I could still see smoke billowing from his mouth with every word he said, as if he hadn't blown it all out before he uttered his answer.
"Things are going to change as they always have." He continued, with his cigarette hanging from his lips. " Things are already changing in other people that at one point meant the world for me, but now I can't allow myself to be pushed to the brink of guilt. I did what I had to do to survive and now I'm picking up the fruit of that decision and it's one whose taste I'm enjoying."
He took another drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out, building a wall of smoke around him that hazed the edges of his face and gave the his word movement and a presence while traveling through the smoke.
"it's that I'm relishing in the guilt, it's more that I've learned to live with it as a part of who I am. I had to unintentionally hurt people to get myself where I am., anyone would do the same, everyone has."
That last comment made me look down to the ground and realize how right he was. People hurt and get hurt, people get over it and people like to get stuck on it. He's had his war and although he's far from winning it he's given himself the opportunity of fighting back.
I guess we all need that. He had changed.
I guess everyone needs a little change.
I'm hitched!
Engaged at least hehehe.
Wow, what a trip!
I might be "popping" this soon...
-“It’s amazing how easy it is...” It began. I had received his letter a couple of days go, actually the morning after he had stopped by and dented my wife’s new dining room table. It meant that he had sent it before that night. I was afraid it would be some sort of suicide letter.
The envelope had no return address, just my name and my address in his handwriting. The zip code he wrote down was incorrect. The back of the envelope was taped up, it’s what he does, like an elderly person he’s a bit paranoid when it comes to mailing something this personal.
I hadn’t opened until this morning, two days after I had gotten it. I don’t know why, I guess I felt scared about what was inside. I didn’t want to see the words “farewell” or “I’m going to be taking my own life” and have that burden on my shoulders, the burden of having him sitting right beside me and not being able to save him, not even noticing he wanted to be saved.
I had read the letter a couple of times since I’ve opened it, just trying to see if I could enter his mind, if I could see what he was thinking. The first time it had given me a headache, his handwriting is extremely neat but difficult to read. It’s like trying to read a cuneiform scripture from times long passed in a language forgotten or dead.
-“It’s amazing how easy it is, I mean, to surrender all your hopes, your dreams and place them in the hands of a person that, most likely, does not want you here. To them I’m just taking someone else’s place, to them I’m just someone that wants something better, I’m nothing more than a poverty stricken dreamer, a possible terrorist.”
His words filled my head and I could feel them becoming the wallpaper inside my mind. Like a text flashed on a marquee every word had it’s own space and time to be read, it’s own light and shine.
-“I’m tired of it all. I’ve done everything I can and still the situations never change. Even if the sun shines brightly outside, inside my apartment it’s still dark, gloomy, depressing, almost as if all around me was dead or dying.”
I could see words crossed out where he had made mistakes or chosen a –more appropriate term. His words were the letter, he was in the letter, tears, sweat, blood, memories, disappointments, betrayals, everything was there even if he did not talk about it.
-“As you already might know, my time is running out. I can’t stay here forever, I can’t become another statistic of poverty or illicitness, I cannot become someone who couldn’t achieve anything if it wasn’t through someone else’s hands. I already owe too many people too much and I don’t think I could ever repay them. I’m stuck between my principles and the rest of the world.”
He always had his dignity. It could’ve been his downfall or his biggest asset but, most of time, he couldn’t help but notice that it got in the way.
-“I’ll be absent from our talks for a while again. I don’t think I’ll be going away anywhere or running away to try and find something better. I’m going to stay here and think, write and decide what my life is going to be. It’s already hell, I don’t think it could get any worse than it already is. Am I wrong?”
I truly hope your right.
He had been distant all afternoon. I wouldn’t have given it a second thought but even his words seemed to be uttered from a very distant place. We were at my home, my wife and kids had gone away to do some shopping, the truth being that my wife really didn’t like his company or having him around the boys, she said he scared her.
He called me at work asking me if he could stop by my house that evening and talk. How could I deny that?
The beer bottles were lining up on the table as the conversation went on, he was asking me about my life, work and family. I on the other hand had no idea what to ask him.
-“Remember that girl I talked to you about?” He said, finally landing back in my living-room, returning from whatever memory he was in.
-“Which one?” I replied. There had been so many up to this point.
-“The cowgirl. You know, the one I met before everyone else.”
-“Oh. Yeah, I think I know who you’re talking about.” I said trying to trace back through all the names and faces I remembered. -“What about her?”
-“She’s disappeared.” He said calmly, still with me, still in the living room.
-“She what?!” I didn’t know if I was surprised or concerned. He always spoke so vaguely. Last time he told me he was raped all he meant was that someone had stolen his personal journal. I guess in a way he was. I remember that day because I went to bed thinking that that person who stole it had an inside look to his life that I lacked.
-“She disappeared. I mean, she’s gone. I’ve been trying to communicate with her and I haven’t heard from her in months.” He paused. “I think she doesn’t want my friendship ever since what happened.” He sighed as he said this, as if going through his past again, through that specific moment that changed everything.
There was a moment of silence he used to take a drink from his beer. It was his sixth and I was trailing back on my third. The alcohol was making him speak and it opening up my ears to his words. It had been months since he and I spoke like this.
-“Nothing really happened between the two of you.” I said. “Is it really bothering that much?”
-“I’m not sure. I can’t really say if it’s that what is bothering me. It’s just me and the way I am, I guess, but it makes me think about the kind of person she is.”
-“What do you mean?” I asked after finishing m beer and setting it down on the brand new coasters my wife bought. She always getting on my hide over not taking care of the furniture.
-“She needed someone like me, I think. At least the person I was back then. I think she needed and outside opinion of her life from someone that hadn’t experienced it. I was there and she was there, she had the questions and I thought I had all the answers then.”
It felt like it took a lot out of him to say all that. I knew who he was talking about and I understood what he meant.
-“I mean…” He went on. “… I don’t feel as if she used me or anything. I don’t have any bad feelings toward and I can’t really resent what she did. It’s just that I actually put an effort into trying to help her find direction and answers to what she was looking for. I still don’t know what she was looking for though. I think it was just to realize that there was someone else like her.”
My attention was fixed to his words. He hadn’t talked like this in so long. The last few talks we had he had been so quiet with him just asking question, trying to find answers to his own problems, I guess.
It was getting dark outside as he stared though the window into the street.
-“You have a very nice life.” He finally broke the silence. “I envy how you’ve managed to stay on the road to what you’ve always wanted.”
Those were his last words before he tapped the beer bottle on the table leaving a small dent on the surface and saying goodbye. He hasn’t found any answers, only more questions and all the roads he’s walking have signs in languages he doesn’t understand. He once told me that he felt as if he didn’t belong in this world, almost like he was born without that gene everyone has that lets them walk over other people without feeling remorse.
He walked out of my home putting his hand on my shoulder and saying “I envy you so much.”
All I could think of though was what I was going to say to my wife to try to explain the dent on her new dining table.
He had told he'd be going, that he'd be trying his best to be able to stay. This country of "opportunities" is what he wanted for himself. Not just only that but what he already had here. It is strange though how people like him are penalized for doing things the right way, the endorsed way, the legal way. He wonders to himself how it's no wonder so many people come here illegally.
He went to the city, he left the snow thinking he would find a warmer place there, or at least a more comfortable one. All he found was a complicated maze of streets, highways and bypasses that told him so much yet not where he wanted to go. He told me as he laughed, "I got lost a couple of times." Now that I think about it, that laugh seemed to be marked with a hint of irony.
We talked over cheap coffee and even cheaper snack foods at his more-than-normal run down apartment. If you had been me you could've seen how systematically his way of life got closer and closer to poverty. His coffee tasted more like water painted brown and scented with caffeine, his food was old and stale. "Hey! It's still edible." He said, "And if it's still edible it's still good." Half of what we ate was over it's expiration date.
His cigarettes hadn't changed and the fact that most of his trash consisted of ash and cigarette butts told me that it was a habit he wasn't prepared to lose. Maybe it was what little good he still had around him, his way of killing himself slowly without having to blame anyone except himself. He hadn't even emptied his ashtray, he does this because I've caught him several times digging through it trying to find a butt with still enough tobacco to light up. I offered him to buy him a pack but all he said was "It's OK. I'm trying to quit anyway."
The paints around the kitchen was peeling off. It wasn't the best apartment around but you couldn't really see that when he first moved in, he kept it tidy and clean, at least as much as he could. Now it looks as though he's lived here a few years without ever taking the trash out. I can honestly say that his cat was better nourished than he is right now. His face was paler than usual, his body looked frail and skinny, he looked like a skeleton wrapped in skin colored saran-wrap, the plastic barely holding on. You could almost see the skin on hi chest move from his heartbeats. He had changed.
We kept talking until late, he offered me the bed if i didn't feel comfortable driving that late in that neighborhood. I told him that it was alright and that I should be going back home anyways, "I have to wake up early tomorrow to go somewhere." I didn't say the word "work" because I did not want to upset him or make him feel worse.
He's having a hard time as it is.
9 Crimes
Leave me out with the waste
This is not what I'd do
It's the wrong kind of place
To be thinking of you
It's the wrong time
For somebody new
It's a small crime
And I've got no excuse
Is that alright with you?
Give my gun away when it's loaded
Is that alright with you?
If you don't shoot it how am I supposed to hold it
Is that alright with you?
Give my gun away when it's loaded
Is that alright
Is that alright with you?
Leave me out with the waste
This is not what I'd do
It's the wrong kind of place
To be cheating on you
It's the wrong time
but she's pulling me through
It's a small crime
And I've got no excuse
Is that alright with you?
Give my gun away when it's loaded
Is that alright with you?
If you don't shoot it how am I supposed to hold it
Is that alright with you?
Give my gun away when it's loaded
Is that alright
Is that alright with you?
Is that alright?
Is that alright?
Is that alright with you?
Is that alright?
Is that alright?
Is that alright with you?
No...
“La vida pasa y ni tú ni yo somos alguien para detener ese ritmo que ha puesto en marcha cosas mas grandes que nosotros.”
Los eventos y acontecimientos realmente pequeños del día de hoy me recuerdan a algo que escribí el año pasado, algo de lo que estoy plenamente de acuerdo y creo que es una verdad universal. Me ha molestado desde que he tenido que aceptar tal hecho. La vida se convierte en una maldita responsabilidad y deja de ser, en todos sus aspectos, una vida.
El momento del que estoy del que estoy hablando es ese instante donde la persona deja de valer mas que la educación que recibió y el dinero que gana, ese momento tan frágil donde consideran a uno “adulto” y tiene que luchar contra todas las corrientes en su contra.
Ganas dinero, pagas impuestos, consumes, consumes y consumes para sobrevivir y evitar, no solo una muerte natural sino, una muerte social. Aún está en discusión cual de las dos es peor.
Desconozco desde cuando remonta esto, tal vez siempre ha sido así pero antes no había tanta competencia por lo poco que había. Aún hoy hay demasiada gente y no ha suficiente para todos incluso con todo lo que se produce.
Tal vez deberían existir menos de “nosotros”, tal vez deberíamos encontrar la manera de saber quien es útil y quien no para entonces colocar a esas personas que se puedan aprovechar y echar de menos a las que sobran.
Yo me considero uno de los que sobran y debería ser echado de menos. Sería mas fácil exterminar a todo aquel que no produzca y dejar a los responsables, un contado elite que tenga las facultades adecuadas, no, mas bien perfectas para llevar a cabo y aprovechar el espacio que fue otorgado. Deshacernos de los mantenidos como yo que gastan el espacio y el oxígeno que alguien más apto podría ocupar.
Mi tiempo aquí se acaba, los se. Tengo mis días contados ya sea por mismo o por aquellos que me “mantienen” vivo.
Es hora de desaprovechar mas oxígeno y espacio.
Best crap this side of the border.
I had a nightmare last night, a dream and, for me it is very unusual to actually remember my dreams. I don't regurlaly get a decent enough night's sleep o be able to remember details. Yesterday I did.
I wont name names, I wont give details, just what I remember after a couple hours of being awake and losing the haze.
I remember people and things dying all around me, people that have been in my life for the longest time and others that have only arrived recently, they all died. The one I remember the most, she was bleeding from her forehead and it was dripping down her face, she was crying and she said to me before she passed: "How could you do this to us?"
The crimson stains were on my hands and the floor, people were dropping dead all around me and I couldn't do anything to stop it. Even Malachi, my cat, he was all shriveled, hairless and the size of a mouse. I tried to feed him and give him water but nothing worked.
I love to dream but I hate dreams like these, it wasn't that people were dying it was that I couldn't do anything to stop it from happening.
As I woke up I couldn't take the image of her bloodstained face saying those words to me, as if all the pain, all that suffering her and the people around were going through was my fault when I had absolutely no idea what I had done.
So it's early and I'm awake, the first day I was allowed to remain in bed I found my nightmare. I hate my sleepless nights.
By this time tomorrow I will become proud parent of a little boy.
His name...
"Balls"
Pictures very soon
"Time and all you took..."
I'm starting something out of nothing, I'm here with what little I have and I'm trying to start something, something out of nothing. I'm taking my chances, playing the roulette, using my best hand if ever had one, I'm here to "turn" into something.
Erie is a new place for me, even if I lived here last year, now I'm here for completely different reason, I'm here to build something people call a future.
"A future? What in the world is that?"
I don't know personally, I've lived my life day-per-day that I'm not sure how to plan for this so-called future. It's scary as hell, it's intimidating, it's what I've ever done.
"So, how am I supposed to do this?"
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
powered by performancing firefox
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.
powered by performancing firefox
¿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.And I find it kind of funny,
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had.
I find it hard to tell you,
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
Mad world.
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.
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.
