"No, sabe que? Todo bien." Ella dijo.

It is a brand new day!
Gracias por las lecciones
De nada por las lecciones
I loved every minute inside you

De tus ojos
Y aun asi
me hayas dejado
quemando por dentro,

Estoy feliz.
I am happy,
because it didn't feel right
towards the end there.

It became something of a joke,
My love for you.
Que Dios os bendiga a los pecadores
Ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte,

Amen!

Que sigamos resando
por perdones ajenos, queriendo
momentos prestados
nunca devueltos.

Cambio de papeles
Click Click Click Click
Alma capturada digitalmente
The Ghost In The Shell, it

Whispers sweet nothings
to an ear eager to please, just then
emotions become toys
la lengua en la oreja.

There is something to be ware of:
Te ame.
Verdaderamente lo hice,
pero eso fue, y no sera.

En el nombre del Padre,
del Hijo, y del Espiritu Santo.

Lunar Pirate

Post apocaliptic soft release party

As it turns out things are well. To my readers, or those who just stumble upon this site, finally there is something about my life that I can say I am excited about. Will start English Pedagogical studies in about a months time. What does this mean? I will be able to teach English here in Colombia, South America; or even a far away place like China. I really want to get away and see the world, there is so much to see, to taste, heart breaks to feel, loves to miss, and strange looks to be had! Hahahaha. Truly though, I am blessed in the sense that I have finally fallen into a groove which makes me want more than just a 9 to 5 with 401K, a wife, kids, and a dog named spot. I don't want any of those things. I want to gorge myself with reality, with life and the air of far away lands. I wish to sit beneath a giant tree in India and hang out with Yogi's. All of these things I wish to do, and they will happen.

I left the US because they wanted to turn me into a statistic, and I will not be made just a number of. I would much appreciate if the state of the United States made itself aware of the erroneous ways of what it is making its' people live. Either way, I escaped the prison state, and I find myself thankful for the experience itself. It is not easy to live something like that, and walk out unscathed. I am very lucky.

Still though, one person still runs through my mind. She will always do so. I do not understand my obsession with Sour Girl. It was her genius, her soft fingertips, the silky strands of her hair, possibly her eyes, or the soul which laid behind aching to be touched. Still I see her in my dreams, her voice is a voice of reason for me, and every time I happen to make a good decision it is her who I envision pleasing by doing so. I do not understand my sickness, all I know is that I still ache for her, and although she will never speak to her, I sometimes hope she peeks in here for a bit of my insanity, and knows that I have not forgotten her.

On depression

So the thing about depression is that you can never really leave it behind. No matter what you are doing there it is, no matter how hard you pretend there is always something hiding behind eyes that once ached to see the world which turns them towards the dark and only want to sleep. In fear of sounding like some over sensitive idiot I tend to stop writing mid sentence, but that's only because of a series of social stigmas implanted by schooling and television, ex's, people who often drift through your life, which dictate that expressing emotion is wrong and shouldn't be done. Well, sometimes we stop caring enough to actually put something down on paper, or a digital format to be viewed by others. Maybe to help, maybe to vent, or it could just be to help the ego.

It just hides back there, in the darkest little parts of the mind. Any moment and every moment you spend on your own is a moment it gets to reach out further into your soul(?) and pulls it apart. So far, 28 years have passed through me and each and every year since I recognized this, it keeps happening. Sometimes the happiness lasts enough to let me see some sort of opening ahead, but just then the depression comes back and drags me back into the bush, away from reason and the ability to contain one self. As of recent one thing had kept me going, and it was as selfish as it could be. Being selfish after all, is but a lingering string that lets us find the way out, or sometimes even deeper into the woods. It really does often feel as if there is nothing one can do, that this is an end of sorts.

Covering up the wounds has become second nature, smile at the passing professors, the fellow students. Every once in a while you run into others who are pretending just like you. Something calls you to them, there is an inherent need to be near them but... it's never going to go into fruition, damaged goods and damaged goods probably shouldn't be together. Then again, in the pit everything seems like a bad idea, even the best of things that could help one move forward in life. There is nothing like depression to bring you to a dead stop, literally.

Drugs. Never had any experience with anti-depressants except for one bout where a doctor prescribed some wellbutrin to help with the cigarettes. They didn't do very well, still smoked. Ended up dropping the meds, it just didn't feel right. Alcohol has always been a friend, although sometimes it seems like the kind of friend that is willing to stab you in the back at any moment, a real cunt. Cocaine and other "hard drugs" are just that, hard. It's like getting fucked in the ass by a large prison inmate. Feels great at the moment, you enjoy yourself and even cum a little, but afterwards you feel dirty, used, and like your ass is going to explode. It's a real fucking trip. Marijuana is the only thing that has helped to keep it leveled. It lets some happiness in, reminds you that it's alright. Too bad it's as illegal as it is around here, nothing like having the government tell you that you have to get their sanctioned anti-depressants which might kill you instead of smoking a plant which grows from the ground. And people wonder why I'm so fucking depressed.

I was about to write some great paragraph about how people can be there and help you but, it's all a fucking joke. People only make it worse, you start to depend on some cunt of a friend and next thing you know they are just another notch on the post of souls to be avoided. Real fucking hypocrites whose only need for you is to justify their existence, be it with words or my dick. There is nothing like fucking a corpse, someone you know is already dead or dying in the great scheme of your life. Good-bye, it was nice knowing you, don't mind the load I've left in your "tunnel of love." There is something wrong with me, and all I know is that I'm the only one who can deal with it. I'll stick to my drugs, to my loneliness, to a sort of conventional mind fuck trip, a trivial yet ergonomic existence with the way in which the world has treated me. A real fuck you to the stars and to the heavens. There is nothing holding me back, so I feel like I can do anything, even if it's writing about my sadness, depression, about the small moments that add up to nothing, about the love felt and ignored. Because no one is going to read this and thing "gee, he had a point." They'll only think "what a sap, glad he never made it."

Amour stained synapses (a fleeting feeling)

In the moonlight
it's when I think best.
As the sun rises
it's when I feel the most.
When the air blows
it's when I breathe easier.
When the sun shines
it's when I close my eyes.
As the rain falls
it's when I feel better.
When her smile glows
it's when I feel warm.
With the touch of her skin
it's when I feel alive.

Fleeting?

If love is fleeting
then why does it stick
like shag carpet
to a strip of Velcro
every time
it comes around?

Like the time
that I fell for my
tequila queen
She still hounds dreams
and imagination.

Now I've felt the wind of
falling face first
onto the floor of emotion
but I keep catching
myself just as I'm about
to bust my face on the
linoleum.

Because I don't want a ghost
of a woman
to haunt me anymore.
Because there is no feeling
like no feeling at all.
It is peace.

(SELF) Sabotage

Video by
Beastie Boys - Sabotage


-(SELF) Sabotage-

Because things are too good
when your face isn't covered in dirt
because when you want to dance
nothing is going down
there isn't anywhere you can run
where you wont face your own sabotage
the places you've been
the facades you've seen
they all fall apart
and the world only makes sense
when you are neck deep
in the lost feeling
of self loathing
and destruction
Self Sabotage.
So fuck all the fakes
and burn all the bridges
because the world is fucked
and you are just another doll
waiting to be ripped
by the hellhound
sent to eat paper faces.

This is my multi-pass.

It's another weekend
she's already called
"my mom is taking me over
be there soon."

He waits in his bed,
under the covers.
It's been cold out lately
and he didn't sleep very well.

A few minutes pass by before she's there
he hears her say hello to his family
and walks over to his room.

The door opens,
she enters and closes it behind her.
A tight fitting shirt outlines her figure
thin yet curvy
her breasts perky with youth
baggy jeans
which soon come off before she makes her way to him
long slender legs
smooth to the touch and very kind to the eye
she's white like snow
and he likes that.

She comes into his bed
kisses him
caress him
"I missed you."
they kiss
and pop The 5th Element into the VCR.

Her bosom presses against him
her hand running up and down his chest
one leg over his pressing on his thigh
her lips slightly part as their saliva mixes.
His fingers feel the contours of her hips
the texture of her underwear
as his other hand touches her back
and pulls her closer to him.

She rips her top off
and he his
their bodies scream in ecstasy
as bare skin touches bare skin
and they press hard against each other
trying to break that point where the one ends
and the other begins
making way into one another
ending the separation of time and space.

Interchanging tactile sensations
eyes closed
eyes open
the smell of her hair
her skin
his sweat
their kink.

She jumps atop him and pushes him down
they stare into each others eyes and smile
just as her hips grind back and fro
she positions him just
so he presses between her lips.

They wear one last layer each
to keep themselves at bay.

He pulls her down by the neck
and kisses her hard
he then rolls her on her back
kissing her neck
kissing her chest
stomach and thighs.

Her smell drives him near insanity
he kisses her thighs and bit by bit
slowly makes his way to her last layer.
He bites onto the edges of her silky underwear
pulls it down with several jerking motions
like an animal tearing at bare flesh
preparing to enjoy a savory meal.

With his bare hands he pulls off her underwear
silk up over his head her legs now lay on his shoulders
just so she arches her back and pulls him in with her legs
a smirk over her face she pinches her nipples tight
his face now buried in her cunt
he can taste her
smell her
feel her
she is everything
his thirst is quenched by her love
her body starts to flush
just as he uses his hands on her hips
to keep her rhythm with his.

He smears her all over his face,
then kisses her belly
breasts
neck
just as he gets to eye level
she licks his lips
savoring herself
then kissing him.

She takes his underwear off
stroking him as she kisses his lips
then taking him into her mouth
soft tongue
soft hair touching his thighs
she lays on her side
with her legs open to him
his fingers caress
her soft petals melting in his fingers.

When she has him as hard as she wants him
she straddles him
uses one of her hands to take him into her
as the other keeps her balance.

He feels her warmth as he penetrates her
everything wavers as reality condenses into this.
Time stops,
space implodes.
She arches down to him and they kiss
bodies are now intermingled
they both push hard against one another
so much so they can hear their hair grinding.

There are explosions in the background
as Korben Dallas destroys alien scum.

Her hair hangs over his face
her eyes shut close
and her body falls limp on top of him.
He bites her neck as she whimpers
grabbing her ass with his hands
to gain leverage over her.
She scratches his chest
emitting a moan that makes him go deeper
harder
squeezing his hands over her flesh.

He then takes her head with one hand
and starts to kiss her lips
feeling his cock get really hard
his balls are now squeezing
both bodies are quivering in orgasm
his moans intensify hers
as he unloads himself deep inside her womb.

They both now lay in bed,
breathing heavily
watching as Lilu Dallas is asking Korben
"What is love?"
They both look at each other and he says
"This, this is love."
"Show me." Says Lilu.
"Show her.." Says the priest.
And so he kisses her.

Looking at each other
hearts beating hard
they kiss softly
between puffs from their cigarettes
smiles and caresses.
Her leg over his
as her soaking cunt drips down on them
she leans into his ear and in between nibbles whispers
"again."

Try Try Try

It's days like today which make me wish I was able to just go, to get up and move away from here. These four walls, the lack of privacy, the unstable home situation. It tears at my inner psyche, I'm unable to cope because I'm unable to care for myself at the moment. Without work, without a bright light at the end of this tunnel, what am I to do? I feel ill, physically as well as mentally. I don't want to be tied down like this anymore, but there is no other way for me. My creativity is at an all time low, I blame it on the lack of "alone" time. I am always surrounded by someone, be it my sister or my mother, they are about at all times. Feeling ostigated with their presence I wonder if they feel the same about me, and if they want me gone as badly as I want to be gone. When will they know that I left a long time ago? That mentally I have tried to be away from them for so long. I sometimes don't understand these things, though I do know that what I do is because it makes me feel better, it allows for me to be somewhere else entirely. I often wish that things would be different, that I could take care of myself, that I had my own place, maybe then my family and I would get along better.

She came back into mind again. I met someone this past weekend, someone who reminded me a lot of her. Blond, thin, with a bag full of pills, and a care free attitude. I knew to stay away from the moment I laid eyes on her, sour girls are not something I want to be hanging around with. Other than that the festival went well. I met someone who I thought was really nice, but they may never know because I didn't say so. It was one of the volunteers, brunette, nice figure, and a go get 'em sense of being that I enjoyed. Too bad I was too busy making sure things were ok to do anything about it, to chat her up and say more than just hello. I'm such an idiot sometimes. What I hate the most is feeling alone, especially when I'm surrounded by people.

Kindred Spirits

There is little else left but friendship
be it that of individuals once thought lost,
to the ones who have all but forgotten.
Keeping it simple helps a great deal,
not letting life get too complicated
will make all the difference one day.
It's like a standing body of water
once you dam the whole thing to hell
it will rot and fester
without being able to flow freely.

As the years go by nothing much seems to change
but the expressions on the faces of my generation.
A certain pull from gravity which brings down
even the brightest and widest of smiles
into a visible frown, those poor clowns.
These years which lay so heavy on our faces
only bring sorrow in the knowledge
that we'll never see them again.
Inside we are jealous of our younger counterparts
because it is their tomorrow we want so bad.

So bad we'll do what it takes to make sure they remember us.
Dead flesh still clinging to bone with nothing left
except for a name tag poorly attached to our emotions,
the only raw thing which we've kept downplaying for so long.
It is they who will ultimately destroy us
if we aren't knowledgeable of their humble begin.
If we are fools and don't heath to the demands
of a foolish heart every once in a while.
Because to live is to love is to live to love,
or something like that.

Kindred spirits will always say hello to one another
even when the two people don't know who the other is,
there are some things only time will tell.
Let the waters flow freely and carve the terrain
it is better to bring on change that to stifle the self.

Necrosis

it is your ultra violence

your indecision

your mental atrophy

that has left the world

standing still

only in your head

we've all moved on

lived and loved

the world within you

unstirred and hollow

you move away

but there is no sorrow

deeper than whats in your bags

deep

stowed away

Art dies, art lives.

My laptop has crashed. It will not turn on. It is officially DEAD.

5 years plus of writing, journals, and just random stuff all gone. I stopped using it so much, hence why I haven't been writing like I should in here, but the other day I went to turn it on and... nothing. Not even a boot screen, just darkness.

Well, the last time I made a back up was like 6 months ago, or sometime before all of this medical shit started. Somewhere around there. So much happened, though I wonder if it's just better that these memories/proofs of life then are gone now. Might be much better off this way.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Respect

Where has it gone? Who has it anymore? I for one do not understand where I went wrong, or if I event went wrong at all.

Get a call from a girl, whom I fancy, and she wants to hang out! I'm like "swell, of course I'll hang out!" So she meets me at her friends house, where I meet some pretty ok people. From there, we chat, we all go through our motions and our arbitrary conversations where we get to know one another. Things seem very well.

Suddenly, a group of people show up delivering the blues... not the music, but the substance that South Florida seems to be so infatuated with. She changes. She starts talking to their driver, and begins to ask me if I can score some pot for her. Sure, I say. I try, but come up dry. "Oh, I have some at home, we can just go pick it up real quick..." He says.

About an hour passes. A twenty minute thing has turned into much longer. I don't know what to think, I'm tired of just chatting it up with people whom I don't know. I'm done. I pick up my shit, and leave.

She wanted to spend the night, so she says. She wanted to hang out and talk, so she says. Then why leave me with a group of total strangers as you go off ridding with some schmuck. I don't get it. No respect, as a great comedian once put it. No fucking respect.

Don't tell me you want to hang out, then leave me to go "chill" with someone else. Don't tell me you wanted to be with me, when you leave me for some guy who just turned up. What am I, chopped liver? I just don't get it.

There is no respect left, there is no real understanding of people left. It's only garbage, or so it seems. Bob Dylan once said something along the lines of send me someone who is not a fucked up person, and I will give my life to you. How right he is, to this day.

What happened to respect.

Late night thoughts after a night of drinking.

Tonight I was hanging out with some good friends, had a really good time. Had a chance to see life from a different perspective, and it was good. Yeah, thats kind of cookie cutter, but hell... if I told you everything then there wouldn't be any mystery!

I did learn something tonight though, and that is to not let things get to you. Because no matter what happens, there is always something different going on.

I shouldn't let stupid medial bullshit get to me as much as I do. It's silly, really. Something I can always count on is the fact that life will change, no matter what. I wish things could have been different in the past, but these things happened for a reason. Whether it was to teach me or them, they happened. It's just learning to let them be that is the hard part.

Life is wacky, and there is nothing that one can do about it.


I hope soon I'll have something more to write about. I've been thinking about the things that go in the world around me, and I want to write about them. I will, whether it's one thing or another, I will. Because our world is a strange place, and very strange things happen. This is why I wanted to be a journalist anyhow, to explore the world around me and make a note of it, in order of future generations to understand and exploit, so that they may know what the world is like, and know what to do and not to do.

On that note, I leave you.

Slow month is slow

It's been a slow month. Guess video games have been taking up a lot of my time. Theres nothing else to do at the moment, I think I may have already talked about this on here, but whatever.

My desktop has a bunch of alt art pictures that are always rotating, I kind of wish I could be as awesome at drawing as these people seem to be. I can't even draw stick figures right.

If you want to know more about Alt-Art, click HERE