Wednesday, December 24, 2008

A boat story

If someone was to ask me where is the least likely place to find drugs, then I would probably say a cruise filled with old people...this apparently was not the case. So, on this boat I made friends with an Argentinian guy who was possibly one of the best people I have met in my life. Anyways, he had brought a lot of weed on the boat, so we spent most of the cruise stoned. He had also brought some shrooms with him, none of which any of us really wanted to do. We really didn't feel like hallusinating and jumping off the boat, or walking through the lobby on our knees looking at the wonderful colors that the carpets made. So, one night, the last night, we decited that if we weren't going to do them then we would have to throw them away (mainly because Chilean customs really give you a hard time). We found out that we really had no place to throw them away without it possibly getting traced back to us, so we got a couple of brownies and decided to eat them. We waited for about a half and hour and nothing happened, so we decided to get stoned. After we got stoned we decided to take a walk and maybe play some ping pong or something. All the while we were walking I noticed that my friend was not doing to well, he wasn't saying much and had an awkward looking face the whole time. We had stared our journey on the 4th floor of the elevator and we didn't make it past the 7th floor when my friend said he had to get off. We got off the 7th floor and made our way to the casino. I thought he wanted to play cards so I just followed behind him. Then I saw his hand slowly make his way to his mouth and he turned around and gave me a, "shit I need help" glare. We finally made it to the casino and so did the insides of his stomach. He threw-up all over the casino. I grabbed my friend and took him to the bathroom. Granted that throwing up on the boat is not an unusual thing, specialy when the boat was moving, as it was that night. After the throw-up scene we made our way downstairs and he appologized and told me that he had to meet up with me later. So, there I was left all alone. I hadn't began to hallusinate yet, but I did feel a bit funny. I made my way through the hallways of the moving boat trying not to make contact with anybody I knew. This then turned out to be a theme for the night. I was like a ninja walking through the boat hidding from any moving object. I had tricked my brain so much that this game I created began not to be as much fun anymore, I was really hiding in terror from everybody. I went to the game room and started to play pictionary by myself. After I found this to be fruitless I grabbed some literature and went to the kids corner, where the colorful rugs and the plushy pillows kept me entertained for hours. After, I decided that enough was enough, and I had to go to sleep. I walked into my room and woke up mother in the process. My lightning thinking prompted me to tell her that I had felt a bit sea sick so I was going to stay inside the bathroom until it went away. I told her not to worry, that I was going to be there for a long time. I went inside what would become my white dungeon. It was very bright inside and so I escaped to the shower, where I took my Obama Time Magazine, closed the shower curtain, and spent the night underneath the trickling faucet.


Sunday, September 14, 2008

Letter to Pati

Not to worry though I will sleep...

Freud is an amazing man that I have begun to boyishly unravel. I am reading a book about him, and every page I flip seems to have the same effect as does opening a fabulous gift on Christmas.

For instance this is what he had to say on poverty:

"Our whole conduct of life presupposes that we shall be sheltered from the direst poverty...
The poor, the common people could not exist without their thick skin and their easygoing ways. Why should they feel their desires intensely when all the afflictions nature and society have in store are directed at those they love."


Well I must apologize for not responding to your lovely letter on Eduardo Galeano. At first glace it didn't strike me as fascinating.
Let me reword,
The poetic rhythm and the pairing of the words was nothing short of brilliant. The reason I was not taken by it was due to the content. The heart (in matters of love) for me is a place filled with frustration. Perhaps this is why Freud, a man of mind and intellect, is so fascinating to me right now. Taken this to account, I read it once more...

("Hoy llueve mucho y pareciera que estan lavando el mundo .
Mi vecino de al lado mira la lluvia y piensa escribir una carta de amor , una carta de amor a la mujer que vive con el , y le cocina y le lava la ropa y hace el amor con el y se parece a su sombra . Mi vecino nunca le dice palabras de amor , entra a la casa por la ventana y no por la puerta . Por una puerta se entra a muchos sitios , al trabajo , al cuartel , a la carcel ,a todos los edificios del mundo, pero no al mundo , ni a una mujer , ni al alma, es decir , a ese cajon o nave o lluvia que llamamos asi , como hoy que llueve mucho y me cuesta escribir la palabra amor por que el amor es una cosa y la palabra amor es otra cosa y solo el alma sabe donde se encuentran y como y cuando , pero el alma que puede explicar ? Por eso mi vecino tiene tormentas en la boca palabras que naufragan , palabras que no saben que hay sol por que nacen y mueren en la misma noche que amo y dejan cartas en el pensamiento que el nunca escribira , como el silencio que hay entre dos rosas , o como yo que escribo para volver a mi vecino que mira la lluvia , a la lluvia , a mi corazon desterrado "

The mere thought of love makes me nauseous. An effect in which I had non while reading this particular piece. In fact, it only supported my theory on the subject matter. We are so scared to love because a broken heart feels so much worse. The closest I can compare it to is to being drunk. We hate being drunk the very next day when the effect of the alcohol wears and you are left feeling ten times worse. This is why the "vecino" has such a hard time describing what love truly is. Once you define something it is because you have identified it. Once identified, then it can shake the core of you.

That is all for tonight. I really didn't mean to write so much.


Monday, September 8, 2008

A moment of self analysis

Three women decide to leave me for another man.
Two of which decide to never speak to me again,
and one of which is actually my mother.
If I'm not as clever,
or as equipped with the capacity to be so self analytical,
then perhaps I would be in deep shit.
Although I do believe I am experiencing a momentary depressive state of mind,
I have no doubt in my mind that I will pull through.
So three very valuable women leave and what is left,
but a very valuable life lesson.
Let it be a life lesson,
and not a way of life.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008


Oh Isabel,
Never think that you are being over looked. The one that watches sees you my dear. People come and go and some never return, but the ones that stay seem to never go away. I tell you the truth my dearest, hang on and hear the things that you should hear and shut your eyes to the things that will forever blind you. You stand there thinking that perhaps this is the end, but I tell you to hang on. Soon someone will arrive and take you to places you thought you would never see alive. Hope is but a thin string we use to tie down an angry elephant with. But stand tall my dear friend, for the string will hold. The seeds that you sow will soon be the fruit that will feed your life forever and ever. So even though you might feel neglected, just know that someday you will triumph, for your spirit in nothing short of electric.
Sometimes when I look into your eyes I see nothing, for you wish to show nothing. Soon you will learn that hiding is no fun when no one is trying to find you. So I tell you my dear friend, look to see and hear to listen. Never eat without tasting, never grab without touching, and never take without asking. Be cautious in matters of love, for humanity loves too much and gives too little. The people you trust should be trusted and never doubted. The people you love should be loved and never hated. Never take anything for granted, for it all can be taken away as quickly as it was given. Life is a precious thing my dear, live it and love it. What you learn here will never be forgotten in this life and the next.

So it shall be so and forever will be
Says the mere mammal

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Work in progress...

When you fall you instinctually try to grab
a hold of the things around you.
Surprisingly the things that you thought were sturdy,
prove to be the exact opposite.
So you fall regardless.

The moral of the story is:

If you go through life loosing your bearings,
You will loose your friends along with it.
If you want to keep your friends,
it's best never to rely on them for help.
More often than not you will be surprisingly disappointed

(Need to finish this next part)

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Quick Thought

Measure yourself not on the things that you do,
but rather on the things that you could do.


Monday, August 11, 2008

The anatomy of my heart

I think my heart stopped working.
I reached out and touched my wrist to feel a pulse and felt none.
I looked around for help and realized I had none.

I screamed out only to hear back the sound of my own echo.

I am but an empty shell with no pulse.
The things I loved I love no more.
The things I hate I know abhor.

Like a drone I fed the cycle
The machine loves those who make great disciples.

I've lost my vision
Now I'm blind
They have flourished
and left behind
a soul malnourished
and a clock to wind

But once this clock begins tick
Time ill' be told to not exist.

The beginning and end is never near
As is, the past is uncertain and the future unclear

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Rambling Ramon

There is something that is slowly brewing in my mind.
Something that needs to come out.
There is this thing that must be said.
Something must be done.

My Brain is about to implode.
Pressure from the outside,
Is tearing my brain from the inside.
I look for relief in things that will eventually make my situation worse.

I drag my feet down the dark path that seemingly has no light.
I begin to run only to be overcome.
I walk to slowdown,
only to realize I must run.

I feel like a rat on a wheel.
Round and round I go,
Where I'll stop
Nobody knows....

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Lesson Learned

There are so many things I wish to say to you, but the fear of saying the wrong thing prevents me from saying anything at all. My mind feels repressed at the mere thought of you. A huge callus has grown around me and has covered the once soft mushy surface. You have changed me completely. My light had once flown freely, but now a prism stands in the way of it. I see you now and you seem different. Your eyes have changed. You used to be this untouchable magnificent creature, but now I have come to realize that you are just like everyone else. It was all smoke and mirrors and I fell for it. To think that I would have ever fallen for such a trick. Never again will I ever be so willing. Perhaps I have you to thank for this beautiful life lesson.

I can not pretend to know much about women, but what I do know is
that they exist. Everything else is just a mystery.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Drunken Ramble

Here goes another rant and ramble about seemingly nothing. As if all I write is meaningless to those who see it. The few who hear it are the ones that are probably just as insane as I pretend to be. Everything is an illusion. Like a mad magician conjuring up a spell to take over the world. As if the world was for the taking. Live like the natives who lived off the land, not like the Europeans who lived and still lives on the land. Fight the power and be strong, hold steadfast to your belief, and you will soon see the battle. War is imminent and peace is distant. Everyone has their own views on everything. Agree and disagree endlessly. The point of the matter is that the fact only points to nothing, for nothing is factual. That is a fact, that nothing is certain. Everything is based on opinion. Experts are only so because of money. They have bought their way and now claim to know, when in fact know just as much. What prevents me and you from knowing nothing? Know nothing and you will be in better shape than knowing everything. Everything must come to an end. Time is limited, but yet imminent. Matter moves and so must you.

Goodbye for now,


Tuesday, May 27, 2008


repugnance hatreD LOVE

From hate comes love...

You can't truly love a person unless you hate a part of them.

There is a thin line between......

Evolve, survive, love and hate!



Gjiu fjifjr id irjrjfirfj cnihdccij. Ecncu sosdjeojf nj ioejifi, jeoifj, soicisdjc, oejfoe!
Fkjefij ekfj mie mnfirenf nirf ijnri. Ynujf eufg fbuyr urfgr fight.


Monday, May 26, 2008

Pure Randomness

Perhaps the greatest sense that man possesses is his sense of humor

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Public Brainstorm

There was a time when I thought I was crystal clear about everything. Now I seem to live in a fog of confusion and hesitation. Recently it seems as if the world is running in the opposite direction and my ill attempts at moving seem to take me nowhere. As if I am running in place like a fast treadmill in which I can't find the emergency breaks too. I wish to run away--far far away. The constant spinning of the earth has got me dizzy. I feel nauseous of staying put while the earth spins rapidly around me. I sleep a lot now, perhaps to escape. I love to dream. I think I could sleep all day and not feel bad about not getting anything done. Sleep is my drug now that substitutes my want for more. I have come to realize that I can't get everything I want. It was a hard lesson to learn and perhaps I have not learned it. My stubbornness will always get the best of me. My willingness to throw myself into a situation no matter what the consequences, will be the death of me. I think I am good at blaming everyone, but I am best at blaming myself. I don't know what to do anymore. Running in place seems to wear me out and staying put depresses me.

Recently I have discovered what does move me. I think it is people's doubt in me. Their doubt has turned into my doubt. Thus leading me to write this rambling brainstorm of where my life is headed. I come across people who for a brief moment see what I see in myself. Then they leave. I guess their sole purpose was to remind me of me. I wish they wouldn't leave though. Everyone to their own agenda.

One day I wish to see the world. Travel on foot and speak to everyone and see everything. Hear and smell the different things that my body wants to experience. Sometimes I have a fantasy of packing up everything and leaving.

I need to get some sleep....

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Meeting with an Agent

Look, I didn't come here in a spare of the moment type thing. I came here to see you. I have it written down on my mirror "Drop off head shot at 6363 Wilshire Blvd". It wasn't by chance that I came in here, it was planned. It was an assignment of mine to come down here. Now I'm not one for self promotion--I abwhore it. I tend to shy away from it. But you have seemed to spark something in me today that will allow me this exception. Please sir, don't get up, I'm not finished. Now get back down and sit in your swively little chair. Yes now grab the pile of head shots off your desk and keep thumbing through them as you were doing so before, good. Don't look at me, look down at the head shots, good. Take a good hard look at what you were doing. Then ask yourself Why? Not now (you are under a lot of stress), but at home. Or on in your car on the way home--or whenever it is that you become yourself again. Here take my card and call me whenever it is that you figure it out.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Step Forward

Indian blood runs through me as I listen to beats and chants of the beautiful war dance in my head. I spin out of control and I will not pull out--not this time. I will let my body flow to the natural rhythm of life. Let it take me where it takes me. I will let the insanity emerge and I will begin to unwrap myself. I will begin to speak the words I was meant to say. No longer will I censor them for fear of approval--The drum plays heavier and faster now matching to the beat of my anxious heart.

Friday, April 11, 2008

I Think Now it's a Good Time to Eat

I owe you the world, but the world is not mine to give. Give more and you will receive. Give with an expectation to receive and expect nothing. What goes around comes around, but nothing happens if you do nothing. Speak your mind and you will begin to listen to it. Talk with your heart and you will be heard.

Last night my world was stopped by a homeless man who had to share with me a simple phrase, "I think now it's a good time to eat". I think you are right dear friend. We all seem to go through life with such a dissatisfaction for it. We complain that we are hungry for more, but never take the time to eat. We live in a world where everyone is watching their weight. Careful not to consume too much of what the world has to offer. We go on diets that censor foods which give us tremendous amounts of pleasure. We are scared to eat, thus becoming malnutritioned. The outside becomes like a beautiful shell waiting to cave in on it's hollow womb. I think my friend the homeless man was right in saying, "I think now it's a good time to eat".




Rock and Roll


I Can't Understand Bob Dylan, but I Love Him Just the Same

Listening to this man today is like taking the perfect prescription for an illness that will forever go undiagnosed. His words and variational musical notes seem to defy unpredictability. As if his music strikes the core of human doubt. His seemingly incoherency only adds to the truth that miscommunication is at the heart of human existence. To be misunderstood and loved at the same time for it, is like seeing a giant Picasso canvas, or reading one of Becket's non linear writing. What truly creates lineality? The mere fact that my computer asks me to spell check "lineality" only adds to the ridiculousness of life. As if the word never existed. Maybe my computer is telling me something. Perhaps nothing is lineal. Maybe when you are on the path it seemingly looks straight, but when you really look at it from a different perspective, you see that you are actually traveling in a never ending circle. Orbiting the endless timeless watch that will forever keep your gravitational pull constant. Sometimes your orbit comes across another, creating a compromising situation that will either result in harmony or chaos.

Sometimes I see and choose to close my eyes, other times I choose to look away. Only when my eyes will be truly open will I find nothing to see.


Thursday, April 10, 2008

Bunnies and Hats Bore Me

The things that one sees around always seem to be an illusion. A mere magic trick. The hidden object never seems to appear in the hand I choose. As if perhaps such object never existed. It was only a figment of my imagination to begin with. Magicians are tricky people, no pun intended. Run when you come across one-- as far as you can go. I would like to meet a clown now. It's easier to see through the mask of a clown than to see past the illusion of a magician. A clown will make you laugh, and they seem to be quite simple creatures. They know what they want, and if they don't know, they will be sure to clearly tell you. Their face is transparent and clear to see. Whereas a magician can be the exact opposite. Chasing a magician is like chasing a cloud of smoke that leads to a giant furnace, in which you are tricked to jump in. An illusion that eventually consumes you only for their personal gain. Another one fooled. Another soul gained.

Minus One to Titan

I sit here now alone in my space ship staring at the seat next to me. Wishing that the missing seat would have been filled by the one I left back in Venus. I tried to persuade her to come, but she was too stubborn to move. The floating poisonous gas consumed her body to the point of ecstasy. There was no getting through and so I left. I never plan to go back for her. Breathing her world made me an addict of it. I fear going back will forever leave me addicted. So I sit here on cruise control waiting for my body to heal so that I can begin to press the gas. Soon Venus will be miles away, and It's sole occupant will be but a faint distant memory.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Titan Seems Miles Away--Can't you see it?

Sometimes things happen because they are meant to happen. Time is an obstacle that many seem to stumble over and over again. There is no one in the world that can give you what you want unless you go after it. You only live once right? Maybe one day the world will tilt and spin on it's equator and we will someday see nothing but light for years to come--at least one half of the world would. It seems as if half the world is on one side and the other on the opposite. Creating an awesome ying yang that not even God could have predicted. The almighty scientist who mixed elements together with only an educated guess on what the results might be. Who could have predicted the world to turn out this way? Man and woman are created in the same image, but the inner workings are miles away. Venus is a planet that I wish to conquer. Perhaps not the planet itself, but one resident. Stubborn is this citizen of Venus. I arrive in my space ship and tell her that I will show her the galaxy, but she chooses to stay--always. She likes being the only occupant of this desolated place. "Lets go to Titan" I said, "Help me create a new world". She tells me to go at it alone. I said, "I would and eventually I will, but there is no one else in the universe that I would have more fun on this journey with. I can't promise you that we will ever get to Titan, space is filled with unpredictability. Different gravitational pulls that might take you away from me is to be expected. You see I don't want to trap you. I just want to fly with you, even if it's for a day." She tells me to leave and come back--she needs space. I tell her, "I know". So I sit here now and I write in light that my words might impress the universe to act. I wait for time to tell me when to go back. Titan waits for me to arrive, but I refuse to go at it alone.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Empty Minded

The soul is empty with no food. Keep eating knowledge and you will learn, but never know. Facts are fake. There is an opinion for every grain of sand on earth. No one will ever know anything. Our senses are filtered through our own individual perspective. It's impossible to be correct. Right was only created because or else everything would be wrong. Nothing is nothing and everything is everything. Nothing is not plural, but singular. Everything is valid and invalid. Count the stars and you will get something. Numbers are scary and so is time. The end is near and so it's time.

Friday, March 28, 2008

Ying and Yang

Relationships consist of a Ying and a Yang, a positive and a negative. One could not exist without the other. How could Ying know it was Ying if it didn't have Yang to show him who he truly is. Same goes for Yang. Yang would not have a clue in who she is unless she had Ying to show her.

Often people get confused. They believe that their ideal partner is one who is the exact opposite. I don't believe this to be true.

Just like Ying and Yang help each other to recognize themselves, your ideal partner should do the same.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

I speak

Today I feel alright. For the first time in a while I feel hopeful and optimistic. Life is a beautiful thing man. I don't know why I feel this way. Perhaps the new perspective that I have been waiting to come has arrived. Today I feel like it is the first day of a whole new chapter in my life. Finally the last chapter is over. I am very grateful for the lessons I've learned, but now its time to apply them and learn new ones. This next chapter I feel will be a good one.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Where to go from here?

It's harder to be left than to leave someone.
It's easier to be right than to understand.
Looking up for all the answers is hopeless.
Looking down leaves you helpless.


3am and full of random thoughts...

Alone at last I feel again. As if the tides never seem to change for this bottomless ocean that sits in my heart. Waiting to be filled by that someone that has that infinite amount of water to fill it. There are so many things that I wish to say and so many more that I don't even know how to say. The beauty of it is to try. So here is my attempt at it. Being loved is possibly the best feeling in the world. But to love is a different story. I miss loving someone. I miss being loved by someone. I just want to get under the covers and embrace her. I miss that feeling. I wish to hold her hand and walk around. I miss taking showers with her. I miss her and I don't even know who "her" is. I know its someone. It has to be. Someday perhaps. I keep saying that lately. As if today is not good enough to be that someday. Someday perhaps my perspective will change. Someday is a day that may never come, but will fuel me till the day I die. Death is the resolution of passion or sometimes the climax of it. Death is certain.
Will I ever find someone that comes close to filling that void that I feel? I don't want to get tricked again. Every action one makes is a selfish one. I can't blame them. Sometimes I feel like leaving here. Going far far away. Perhaps that is why I daydream so much. Sometimes when I drive I imagine myself running and climbing the trees that I drive past in my car. When I used to go to school I used to imagine myself suddenly floating and the class looking at me wondering what was happening. Then I would have something profound to say and fly away. I feel like I'm meant for something. Something big, something bigger, bigger than me. My work is not nearly started. I will hit the world like a thunderstorm and provoke the thoughts of those who need provoking. I have been sent here for something and lately I have had tastes of what that is. I thought that maybe I can do this work with someone. But it seems that I will have to go at it by myself. It's lonely in here. Ha!

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

The Delightful Creature I Met in the Urban Forest

I took a long walk down the urban forest. When suddenly I was stopped by a delightful creature that asked of me to describe myself she said:
"My dear sir if you don't mind it is not your change that I am after, but your thoughts. I say what a beautiful day it is wouldn't you say? Have you noticed the leaves on that tree? Do you not see what I see? The seemingly inanimate become animate when you spend some time with me. Green, brown, and blue are the colors of nature therefore my favorite. Tell me something about yourself my kind friend. I have shared with you my true colors perhaps you might do the same. Describe yourself to me. Not accordingly to what others see, but what you see. Tell me the things that you wish others never to find out or hear about."
I took a long pause for this was not a question I was ready to answer without thought. Although this is not what I said to her, I wish I did:
"I am what you see before you. I am a man of flesh and bone with no clue of who I am. Every time I look upwards towards the clouds I feel small. Perhaps how an ant must feel. I see the cars that drive past us and wonder who the driver must be. He must be lost just like me. The pace of life moves so fast underneath our feet. It is scary to slow down and run the risk of being left behind. Sometimes I feel that I am far behind. Like a boy in a brand new world seeing everything for the first time. Everybody seems as if they are well put together, they have a clear opinion of who they are, and what they stand for. I don't. I have a hard time articulating my thoughts because half the time I don't know what I'm thinking. I drift into this other realm that I find comfort in drifting. I see tortured people walk the earth and make precautions never to be like them. I go after my dreams for ultimately that is my reality."
We stopped talking for a while and we sat and enjoyed the beautiful true colors of the urban forest.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008


I walk the night with my dark clothes reflecting no light.
Walking and looking down to see no night.
My rubber soles leave no imprint on the cold cement road.
I walk and ponder the strange questions of life.
Death is the ultimate destination of life.
My feet that walk the earth will someday be,
but a faint memory to the earth underneath this cold cement road.
The past that once was will never return again.
Only but a shadow that remains illuminating the path that I now walk on.
Seeing nothing ahead, but more of that cold cement road.
My light is out and I am no more.

Waiting for Revelations

Triumphantly we march ahead of time trying to minimize the rhythmic flow of life. As if the dawn had a new light. I tell you to fight. The endless persecution of the stars and heavens will soon merge in front of you. You the people and civilians of this war that will put you in the front lines. What will you do fight or flight. The departed become the enemy of the battle that will cease when He comes without warning. Ancient civilizations that will soon be the destiny of all of us. To be extinct and seemingly breathing. The pedestrians that walk the cross light will halt to a stop mid stride in order to see the blatantly obvious light. The clouds will part and you will see the sky at the glory that it deserves to be seen. The long for muted voice will speak the words of peace and a future to come. Then it will disappear as quick as it came to leave mankind in its miserable state. But we will rebuild and remember the prophecy of the voice that seemed so far away. We will remember it until we forget. The glory of the one above is only seen by those who wish to suffer the blindness from the light. To see in the dark we shall forever be. Night creatures that walk the earth looking and craving for the light that will someday bring about hope of a new future to come. A peaceful rebellion that is to shape the face of the world will take place and we will see the true potential of who we are. This is what we are destined to be, creatures of peace and happiness. Somewhere along the way we have lost our way. A new dawn that is to come will bring about the true nature of what nature intended man to be.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008


Like Atlas I stand here bearing the burden of the world on my shoulders. As if I knew the only joy was to carry the giant burden that propels me forward. The giants that try to sway me from my path are only those that are small enough not to see. The light that shines through the brick of stones is what I see. I am the conductor that rides the train that runs a muck. Atlas son of pain and bearing the torture of the world. See the light that shines through the seemingly endless eyes of human poison. I know the feeling my dear friend Atlas. Let us both see and hear the things that we bear on our shoulders. The world is big, but not too big to bear. The burden that we hold up so dear to us is what will set us apart. Atlas how you are remembered my dear friend. How strong you must be. To hear the mockery of the world and stand up for it. Let us never fall into the abyss that you hold us from. To bear the burden of the world is a task that we are destined to fill. Destroy the evil of those that seek the good of mankind. For they are the light of the world that fill the void that many seek to find. The endless war we fight and loose will be worth remembering.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

What happens when we die?

Seeing that perhaps the illusion of mankind lies in ones own reality, who is to determine the rightful truth of anything? What happens to us when we die? Close your eyes for a brief moment and see the darkness before you. If in a sense we see only in according to what our own eyes are able to grasp, what happens when we shall forever close them? Dreaming is of course done with our eyes closed, so would it be fair to speculate that when we die we would forever be in a state of dreaming. But can one dream or even think without a living brain? Does the core of humanity lie in the heart or in the mind? When one is heartbroken does one not feel it in the chest and not in the brain? Or does it register in the brain and then it translates to the heart? A blow to the heart means instant death, but a blow to the brain has a chance of survival. So what does occur when we shall forever close our eyes? Do we cross over to a Utopian society where everybody is joyous and merry? What happens if a loved one on earth didn't get through the so called "Gates of Heaven"? Would you be joyous and merry knowing that you will have to go through eternity not seeing the ones who didn't "get in"? Is hell like our judicial system? What if we are already in hell trying to work our way up to heaven? Why is heaven considered to be in a higher plane, rather than a lower one? Why must we always put things that are superior in a higher place? Does one not find life lessons in watching an ant trail? Does one not find the most meaning in a simple act as sharing a meal with a loved one? I say that what is above is to be left for the birds. Its nothing but clouds and twinkling white dots. If you are looking for God, look right next to you. Stop praying to the ceiling and begin to connect to what is directly around you. To pray means nothing. To act is everything. So what happens to us when we die? It is hard to take in that perhaps all that happens is that we die. We cease to exist. So if this be true, why waste your life? Forget the saying that perhaps tomorrow you will die. Someday perhaps we will cease to exist. Whatever you choose to do with your life, make sure its what you want to do with it. Never live it to please others, and never settle for anything less than what you deserve. Someday we will all die. Make the most of it.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

A Humble Ballad- - By a "nice guy"

Something eats me today. It's been eating me for some time now, but today it threatens to swallow me whole. I feel like I give too much of my soul to the ones I truly love, but never seem to get the same love in return. It's like playing a game of tennis with no one. I keep hitting the ball, but it never gets returned. I feel like a dumb child who has burned his hand on the stove, but yet reaches for it once more. No more reaching. It hurts to burn the same wound that has not yet healed. Now I feel stuck. I want to search out for the one that truly deserves me, but I don't want to get burned again. I don't really want to give my all to anyone anymore. It's too much. People take it for granted, as if I will always be here for them. They could of had me forever. I feel like people always look past me. I'm considered to be a nice guy, but what does that get me? A pat in the back and a slap to the face. Jerks get the nice girls. My loyalty always brings about betrayal, but I stay loyal like a dumb dog guarding the master that beats him. Maybe someday the tides will change. Someday--but not today.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Soon is Not So Far Away

The ideals of the realist are just as valid as the ideals of the idealist. Is there such thing as realism? What is real? Reality is what we make of it, so essentially we are all idealist. Why is the world divided over perspective? As if one's perspective should be enforced upon others. How do we learn anything from that mentality? As if certain cultures are far more superior than others. Where do we get the confidence to think this way? There is going to be a time when this country is going to need the aid of those who they have tried to manipulate. Its a small world. The value of the dollar is declining and banks are having a hard time staying afloat. Credit card companies are loosing billions of dollars because our people are having a hard time paying the bills. A future in which our Government will rely on the generosity of those who they have oppressed is close at hand. This great empire is declining behind the smoke and mirrors of war and politics. The economy is hurting. Soon we will all be brothers. The classes will merge to form one. To have one voice. A voice that will speak of a revolution of perspective. Enjoy the time we have being the king of the hill. Soon it won't be this way. We will give way to another imperialistic empire that will try to learn from our mistakes, but will make them again. We will be the ones oppressed and manipulated. There is only one solution. When you go to the polls to vote for a puppet, make sure you vote for the one who has the least amount of strings. These strings, sowed in by the corporate giants, are the downfall of our country. They are never pulled in favor of the people. Perhaps there is hope for us. Pray your prayers and pray that this day will never come.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

The Homeless Man

There was a time when everything seemed so fine. So great to just laugh and play. As we grow we tend to forget those beautiful days that once filled our days. We grow up and have to take on responsibilities. The mere thought of the word makes me sick. I wish this was all a game. Maybe someday it will be. So many of us walk the earth hating the lives we live. Work is hard, relationships are strange, and the world has no pity on the weak. The homeless man who sits by the road is considered a conman. One who pretends he is poor, but secretly he lives a life of luxury. What a ridiculous concept we trick our minds into thinking. As if he fabricated his own stench, his empty gums where teeth should be is a mere illusion, and his clothes are no more than a costume. This is the truth we like to believe so that we don't feel bad when we can't cough up a dollar. A dollar. How hard must times be when one has to take the time to rationalize not spending a dollar on a man who clearly needs help. Write them off as crazy, but even the insane need nourishment. They brought it on themselves you say? Is the world so unkind that certain people get chances and some are neglected? Don't get too close for whatever ails them might ail you. Yes and leprosy is also contagious. Perhaps what you wish not to see is the truth. This country houses mass quantities of insane, deranged, contagious, and filthy human beings. The rest are left on the streets.

In a Moment of Self Indulgence I Wrote:

How easily you forget me. How easily you push me aside for another. Talks of forever never last. I thought I knew you--I thought I understood you. The wonderful times we had together are now in the past. Sometimes I wish I could go back to those times. Or if I could somehow tell myself to cherish every moment that I had with you, we probably wouldn't of fought as much. I miss you. There was a time when you used to be my world--my everything. Now it seems as if we are worlds apart. How have you been? What have you been up too? These seemingly insignificant questions I wish to ask--thats all. I know you've found another and thats OK. Although I miss you, I do not want you back. I have grown more than you know. Perhaps now you probably won't recognize me. The face is the same, but my eyes can see further. I hope you are doing fine. I only wish you would call--thats all.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Fifty Nine Deaths from Heartbreak Alone this Year

Fifty nine deaths this year alone from heartbreak. The year is young as young as love is. How easy we forget those we loved. How fast we move along. Zip through the music as if you hadn't heard it. Dance to the tune of your heart beating, until it breaks. A pause in the step of a step not worth taking. Fifty nine deaths from heartbreak and counting. One by one we all go down, until eventually we find those who are meant to be found. Then what? The independence you once had is completely gone and the stacks of compromised ideals begin to stack up. Then, once you feel you've had enough, it's not so easy to break up. Break up the heart that was one made whole by the person you wish to leave. But you must leave because the world misses you. All this time you were in love, the world kept spinning and moving along. You wake up and realize that this perhaps was a waste of time, but you wouldn't dare think that twice. No regrets. So where to go from here? See, fifty nine deaths from heartbreak alone this year.

Saturday, January 12, 2008


Rose full of thorns and passion you are. Hide and seek you play with fear of emotion to come. Leave some room and leave some space-- headache and stomachache. The body and mind are so attached to the surrealism that is our reality. Ponder what you may or may not may. Who is to say what reality is? It's a mere illusion to say the least. It's what we make of it--what we think of it. Grow your thorns, but leave some space. Growing too many thorns will poke the beautiful pedals that you have. Self-defense and protection is a must in a world that one wishes to abide by. This is fine, don't be scared of becoming numb and full of hate. Just as in autumn and winter your leaves leave, spring is soon around the corner, to mend your wounds and weave that beautiful web that is the leaf that once left in order to grow again--and the cycle continues like clockwork. Never missing a beat. Dream the beautiful dream that you dream so dreamingly. Don't be afraid of it. Ideals and realism are one. They are not two separate entities. What we create in our world is based on fiction not fact. What is a fact, but a mere illusion of confusion that we deem so correct. Do the math, numbers don't lie because we deem it so. Question the endless questions and never get results in terms of how you expect it, but the mere act of questioning will allow you to gain new perspective. Grow your thorns, but leave some space--back to the matter in question. Many enter and many leave. It is those that stay that you are to keep. Some cope and some fold. It is not you who made them fold, but rather the hand that was dealt to them. Blaming yourself for things that you have no control of is like blaming God for the chaos in the world. Some things run amok like a derailed train. You are the destination. The tracks, their destiny. Be easy and be kind to the self that should let go and unwind. Masochism masochism masochism. To be melancholy is fun to some and tedious to none. Relax, breath, everything will be fine.

Thursday, January 10, 2008


Where do you come from who fills my mind with idiosyncrasy of idiomatrics? Did that make sense? I bet it did to you. The reader of this blog, the one who this is for. In short, no pun intended, I will summarize my words so that they may be vague to some, but specific to you. Who knows what to say that may or may not evade the truth of the matter is how smart you are. But not tallied in books as you like to dust off occasionally, but rather in truth. Revolutionaries from birth we walk the earth as if anything and everything needs to change. Enormous life you have in such a small frame. My path came across yours, but who can miss it. The enormous light that shines from it gives sight to the blind and blinds those who refuse to see it. Masochism masochism masochism. Enjoying the blog eh? Fill my eyes with sight, soon I must go for a flight. Only because of you. What would I do without you? Friend of mine. You came at the right time. Say what you must of your selfish self, and your vanity, or your sexuality. Lies I say. Pick up a leaf, examine it, all in a days play. What a lovely creature God has made. What joy he must have had designing you. The ears and nose probably made him laugh and your big calves probably could have been cut down to half. Joking my dear. I love your self. Your entire self. I say self because it also implies me. As you see sometimes I feel you are me. The good me. The fun me. Chao pescao'

-Perro Caliente

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Piece by Piece- - Thought by Thought

A piece of me leaves every time I say goodbye. A piece of me stays every time I am afraid. The seemingly pieces of me that seem not so easy to see are the ones that want to be seen-- but are so afraid to show themselves to the world. These fragile seemingly insignificant pieces of me, are the ones that hold the secret to me-- but no one sees. Forever and ever I can show you what you want to see of me. The seemingly blatantly obvious me. But these hidden pieces of me you will not find, for I will hide. Hide and hide and hide until perhaps one day, someday, along the way, someone might stumble across me. "Oh the day that someone along the way might find me"-- I pray. So I wait and I pray--wait and pray. Perhaps someday, tomorrow lets say, someone might find me along the way.

¿Truth Riddle?

Dreams become a reality when you stop believing in dreaming. The truth that hides behind the light that blinds you to see the truth of the matter. So be it. What do they know of it? The man upstairs who never shows his face. So be it. Alone at last and forever we where from the dawn of time. Space is infinite and time is limited, try to figure that one out. The stars that we see in the sky might be already dead, but we can't tell from down here, as if we are blind to the fact--but we still see the light. Try to figure that one out. Or this: The government who spends millions on welfare, but refuses to acknowledge the true fact of poverty. We are poor because they are rich. Keep the people from thinking and keep them guessing. Bend the truth and cover it. Advertisement is just a tool for their constant manipulation. The conservation of our environment is unprofitable unless it is commercialized and sold for profit. Organic consumption used to be a normality now it's a luxury. Water is free as it always should be. Bottle it, label it, build a corporation around it. Everything seems to be made in China. Apparently Communism is more productive than Capitalism. True Communism can never exist. The drive of man, the hunger for power, and the desire for more will always prevent it. Capitalism will crumble and the value of the dollar subsiding. European countries cheering. Its their turn now. They get to have all the pleasure of slowly declining as all great empires have. Just like the Romans. Why is it that we never learn? As if history never repeats itself. Be weary of the future to come. Read your history and you will understand. The past is our future, and the present is at hand.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

So be it

My soul feels empty. My passion subsisting. Where to go from here? I have no one to turn too. No one that understands me. For the first time I feel alone, completely alone. I feel like running away, going away, far far away. To places where no one can find me. Then one day I will triumphantly emerge as a different person. I sit and wait for that day to come. Sit and wait--sit and wait. It takes too much effort to be outgoing. I try to make things happen and it blows up in my face. People always seem to misunderstand me. My intentions they find malicious, as if I am always up to something. I have come to realize that everybody leaves, no matter what the matter, everybody leaves. No point in ever getting close to anyone. It hurts more if I do. I grow and I learn. I sit and I wait. I grow sitting, waiting to learn, observing, and sometimes interacting. Sometimes will now turn into rarely. I'm done reaching out to others. Your arm always gets cut off mid way. I had two arms, now I have none. I'd like to keep walking, running, sprinting. Its hard to walk with no arms. I hope someday I can have them back. No more reaching for love. No more pursuit of it.
People think I am weak. I think the exact opposite. My strength is feeling too much. So many of us grow numb from feeling. They think this is strength. I say this is weakness. We feel because we live.
I had somebody I thought. Now I know I have nobody. So be it.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

A Wise Old Boy

There was a boy long ago who believed in the power of superstition. He lived his life on eggshells scared of this scared of that. He wore the same underwear every morning and washed them every night. He slept with his light on in fear that someday something might take him away. He set his alarm clock every night at 8:13am and turned it off after he snoozed it three times. This cycle continued everyday and every night and on and on and on. Until he finally realized this:
"My life consists of a cycle that until this day has proven to be effective. Today is different. I am old, no longer a boy. I have found nothing new. I have lived my life in fear of change and thus I have not grown. The people around me have changed and I have remained the same. I have not adjusted to the times and have refused to modernize. I have refused to reinvent myself, and I have become old much too early. Although I think its not too late, I wish to change."
The next day when he awoke he didn't bother hearing the alarm. He wore no underwear, in fact he wore no clothes at all. He walked into the street and yelled "I am free! I am free!!".


I see the world for what it could be. Sometimes I fall into the trap of living in it. I hate it when reality sets in. Things sometimes just don't work out how one expects them too. The world is unfair, its unjust. But we must keep on living. Keep on striving to achieve the things that someday will be realized. One must have faith that this realization will someday happen. Why do I keep writing blogs? There is so much that I've needed to express lately. So much that I've needed to say. I'm tired of living the earth and walking quietly. I have observed for far too long. How to begin? How to start this massive plan in my head? Sometimes I fall asleep tired thinking about it. Disillusionment sets in and I try to forget. Forget the things that haunt my mind. The things that I see that others refuse too. I grow old and numb--bitter and angry. This is not the person I wish to be. Sometimes I walk with blindfolds on. My sight causes me to see things that leave me depressed and thoughtful. Sometimes I wish to stop thinking, to not see, to not hear, to be numb. Sometimes I pray, sometimes I hate the thought of it.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Sabio the Clown

Sabio the clown lived an interesting life. The traveling circus that he was apart off was a very popular one. In fact he was one of the main attractions. Sabio lived the life that many clowns had wished they did. There was only one problem--he was a clown. No matter how many people he made laugh no matter how many people he entertained, at the end of the day all he was was just a clown. Nobody ever took him seriously. "One day I will show them, show them all" he said as he stared at himself in the mirror. In the next show his cue came on to go on stage and for the first time with his costume and all he spoke, and this is what he said:
"You laugh at me because you thing I am funny. You cry not from sadness, but from laughter. You come here to escape the torments that have driven you here, and for a brief moment you are able to laugh. This service I provide to you out of love. My payment is measured in the volume of your voices. I have never asked for anything in return, but I will only ask for one thing. When you leave this tent leave with knowing you have heard. You have seen me speak. You have witnessed my passion. I ask that you too have the courage to show yourself. Your true self. The self that lies behind the mask. The self that doesn't conform to what other people see you as, or expect you to be. I stand here before you as a clown, but what you have witnessed is something different. Something that most are scared to be. So many sitting before me have settled, have conformed to what society deems them to be. A politician can be a humanitarian. An environmentalist can be a butcher. Never settle for what society deems correct. What is true is only created by a general consensus. So many of us fall into the trap of following rules and regulations, that we forget why they are placed there in the first place. To be controlled. To be manipulated. To function in a society that benefits those that we can't see. Those that will destroy your world in light that theirs might stay intact. You come here to escape from there. I tell you go back and deal with the mess you've made. The mess we've created. Its not too late. Go!"
At this instance Sabio disappeared. Nobody knows for certain what happened to him. Till this day people try to forget what they were told. They still attend the circus and try to forget the time when a clown spoke.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

A Conversation with a Priest

I took a stroll down the street and found a church. I approached the priest and asked him his advice on love. He smiled and said that he was afraid that he was of no use in talks of love. He told me that he would be much better on talks of scripture. I was disappointed with his answer. Surely there must be someone I can talk to. Someone new someone different. Someone with a new perspective on the matter. I pried and tried once more to ask him about love. He must have fallen in love too once--I thought. He stared into space for a while, and when he came back he said:
"Once, a while back when I was about your age there was this girl. There was nothing I wouldn't do for her. I adored her. She adored me. I Asked her to be mine and she denied me. I asked her why and she had no answer, no reply. Simply that it couldn't be so. We were too alike her and I. My stubbornness got the best of me and I asked her out again and again and again. She denied me all when I asked for nothing. This is the way the world works my son. She later married another man and I joined the seminary. I vowed never to love again."

Just as quick as we started talking we stopped. As I walked away from the church I came to the thought that perhaps the world is unfair. Poor priest, poor man. He found God because he was running away from love. I heard the sadness in his tone. I saw the hurt in his footsteps. I must be careful not to fall into the trap of falling in love. Or when I do I must be sure that she will take me. Its no use trying for love. Love is love. When it works it works, when it doesn't it doesn't. You can't make love work, It just happens. Someday perhaps I will stop falling in love and perhaps they will fall in love with me. One could only pray--like the priest.

IL Telefono è il Mio Amore

I watch my phone with intend to use it.
I watch it in hopes that one might call.
I see it
I stare at it.
I wait.
Ring dear friend.
I thought the phone rang.

Loneliness is my faithful companion.
We've gotten quite close.
He gets jealous when I go out.
He hates it when my phone rings.
He fills my mind with thoughts
Thoughts that feed my desolate mood.
I wish to be left alone from loneliness
I wish my phone would ring

Uma Balada do Pobre

The rich and the poor
Run amuck,
While we watch.
Homeless people starving.
Consumerism peaking.
Where is the justice?
The law targets those who are poor,
The rich are bypassed.
Those who have,
Have too much.
They give only to gain more.
The poor stay poor.
The aristocrats accumulate wealth
But they forget.
The power of the poor.
The power of the masses.
More and more are signing up.
To take hold,
To take control,
To bring balance,
To a scale that has been tipped
To one side far
Too long.

Les Jours Tristes

There is so much I wish to say
Not just to you
But to the world.
We live
We die
We're forgotten.
We are reborn
We forget who we once were
We live and die and are forgotten
The cycle continues until
You break it.
Live to be remembered.
Have something to say
Make yourself known
Arise awake
Sleep only when its time
Snooze is reserved for alarm clocks
Tic Toc
Times a ticking.
What are you waiting for?
History is history
The past is the past
Think fast or you wont last.
Tic Toc
Times a ticking.
Pause breathe
Life goes on
Make the most of it
Make a blog and post it
Be heard
You are remembered, forgotten or dead.
Life continues
Life goes on.
Stare unto space
See how small we are
Questions arise
Dizziness I feel
Faint I might
Perspective I've found.
The end is near.
Tomorrow today,
Who knows?
We live with fear.
Earth is not round,
But a sphere.
The things you thought you know,
The things you said you knew.
The human condition deteriorating,
The people who speak are few.
Let your voice be known,
Let your voice be heard.
Bronze is reserved for those who come in third.
The alpha the omega,
Show your face,
To the human race.
Times a peril,
Times a ticking,
Tic Toc,
Times up.

3:53 AM

I remember it like it was yesterday.
It was yesterday,
Or today.
Tomorrow perhaps.
History repeats itself
We never learn.

Thoughts are jumbled,
Words are mumbled.
Can't think.
Can't speak.
Things I want to say
I wont say.

Lets talk tomorrow?
Lets not.

3:53 AM
Like it was a dream
So long ago.
Or was it yesterday?
Tomorrow perhaps
Will happen again.
History repeats itself
We never learn.