nueve-cinco

Its 71 degrees exactly
I'm not use to the consistency
my eyes are burning as red as christmas
can eyes blister? cause mine feel like their going to pop

I'm being efficient and pro-active
contributing to society
but insides want to be out
want to yell and scream
this is me grown up
this is me 9-5

hi bob

On the regular I'm enticed to send you a little something, but then i go over the last email you sent me. Telling me how happy you are, how everything is going so well for you in your new relationship, how things have changed and how i need to look into my mean ways. It almost makes me want to vomit. Maybe I'm one of those people that's disgusted by other people's happiness because mine keeps eluding me. What i want is for you to curb your enthusiasm and come save me from this.

breathe

Its a weird feeling waking up and your sheets sticking to your bare legs and chest. Its hard to breath now in January. I can only imagine how bad it's going to get in April. I've been looking into getting a dehumidifier but they're too expensive so i let the air come in from outside. Contrary to what you might think. I like waking in my own sweat. I like to think that im burning some calories as i sleep and the sweat is the evidence.
There's a smell that lingers every once in a while if i don't let the northeast wind in. I don't notice to much when its just me but when i have someone here I can smell the stench just as i wake. Its not the good manly smell that i like to so weirdly stick my nose into when someone good is gone, but its a basket of dirty laundry in the corner kind of stench.
Every time i regret it, seems good the night before but the lingering stench in the morning reminds me to open the window and see you out.

Happy Birthday To ME!!!!

I'm fucking old, I make my way into Rite Aid to find the cheapest way to make my wrinkles disappear. I stare into the mirrors and convince myself " that was always there" No, it actually wasn't. I'm deathly afraid of aging. I always ask people their ages and compare my visible wrinkles to their visible wrinkles and tell my self that i look way better. I think the level of disillusion grows as you get older. I keep thinking some how that stuff will be magically reversed by sleeping just the right amount of hours, and not sipping on any more whisky. I've gotten so old that i don't even care if anyone remembers my birthday anymore. I use to shout it from the roof tops now i try to hide behind my hair. Shit, getting old sucks.

Patatas bravas

We walked all day, what seemed to be 10 or maybe even twenty miles. we were famished and looking for a good place to have a hearty meal. The occasion? Thanksgiving in Barcelona. We tried to see all the sites during the day of course, but we out did ourselves. what looked like short walks on the map turned into long misguided turns to streets we couldn't even find on our "guide to Barcelona", nonetheless we were determined. we had our end goal in sight and that was a feast.being typical Americans we got back to out meeting point just at the right time to have our dinner, our feast. sadly we found that everything was closed and would reopen in a couple of hours. So we kept walking, surely something would be open. We found a little cafe our typical American fantasy of a feast was minimized to patatas bravas, paellas, and vino tinto, It was delicious. probably one of the best Thanksgiving meals i had ever had. The company, setting, and just the people and culture around made it one of the best experiences of my life. Sorry America, BBQ, gravy, mashed potatoes, and turkey just don't cut it for me anymore.

Flashbacks of a Life Once Lived

Its as if i was living in a parallel universe. i might as well had of been seeing where i am now. Putting up with things and people that i cant stand but do because loneliness takes over.



I once lived in a place where i could get one of the best bottles of wine for 5 dollars or a cappuccino for $1.50. A place filled with so much history and culture. It was all around, I could touch it with my fingers and see it with my eyes. It was in the buildings, in the color of the food and inside the vino rosso. I could even hear the pride of their culture in their tongues. It's been a year since i've lived in my paradise. To say that i miss being there is an understatement. I hope to return but in the meantime here are some pictures to hold me over. The picture right above is of my old roommates and I in a square in Firenze, Italia.

For a second there...

i thought it was you. The same pretty face, pensive eyes, same shoulders, and body. For a second there i couldn't breathe, my heart jumped into my throat. I thought for a second you had read my thoughts. Maybe you knew how much i still wanted to see you, maybe you felt how much i miss talking to you, and then reality struck.
Why would you be at a pool in Portland? You hate Portland. Why would you be surrounded by screaming kids? It's amazing the thoughts and feelings that come into mind within a split second.
It doesn't matter. I know what you have going and i know how you feel. Your tone and the sound of impatience from our last conversation still echoes in my ear, it still stings. The tone and irritation acts like an infection, crawls into my brain , catches a ride with a red blood cell, and travels south to my heart and takes refuge. It doesn't spread it's milder than i thought, but it's still implanted there. An implantation that i don't want. It causes problems, hallucinations of you being in a pool surrounded by children.