Say goodbye to France for me

First of all, I would like to say: Fuck. Yes, f-u-c-k. Fuck cancer, fuck my liver and fuck my lungs. Fuck my colon (not literally, si vous plais) and my kidneys. Fuck drinking and fuck smoking. Fuck akward fist fights, bruises and broken bones. Fuck drunk driving, fuck seatbelts and fuck bumpy roads. Fuck uptight conservatives and fuck whiny liberals. Fuck macho homophobes and annoying flamboyant gay men. Fuck racists and fuck people who live up to there comedic stereo type. Fuck hypocritical activist/philanthropists and fuck hypocritical nihilists. Fuck shallow chic and fuck messy slobs. Fuck ikea, fuck bed bath and beyond. Fuck hopeful teenagers and fuck bitter middle-agers.

But most importantly, fuck me. Who is all of the above and neither.

That said, I shall write about current events with less gratuitous cussing. SHIT FUCK!

I thought about writing a letter to maria right now. But it would be just another letter unanswered letter. So I'll write about it here. I thought about telling her the wierd dream I had last night in which we where touring France by skipping trains and stealing wine along the way. I wanted to tel her how at the party I went tonite i was introduced as, "the guy who has a soulmate in belgium", swear to god, I was introduced that way. I wanted to write about how she would have probably had fun at this party since when we were drunk we started reading eachother passages of naked lunch over cigarettes and whisky. I wanted to tell her how now I am known amongst the people here as the drinker, or the alcoholic. I wanted to say that I do not say much in my defensive and I am ashamedly proud of this title. I wanted to say that I miss her, but since I say that in every letter I write to her it might seem needy. She already knows this, so I probably would have written it anyway. When I would have sent the letter I would have felt ashamed or embarrased somewhat because For the last week I have been writing her a letter at least every day, at least in my mind. I would start thinking of how I rehearse what I want to write in each letter during my day. When something interesting happens I say to myself "Hey, this is something I can include in the letter." I start thinking of how when I write these type of things a strong, charming and enthusiastic narrator starts talking in my head as I type the words. I then imagine this narrator as a voice over in a scene of a WWII drama in which the dead soldier writes letters to his sweetheart back home and she reads them on the beach looking out to the sea, hoping the young man eventually comes back from the great war. I think of Il Postino. I think of how bashful and teenage this all is but then i reflect and think that this is how it has always been with Maria, because we've known each other only as teenagers. I want to tell Maria that I am carefully selecting songs to make a very good playlist when she comes back. I think to myself how creepy and clingy this is. I think to myself, "Maybe I am just idealizing this woman because she is far away and I can turn her into this mystic awesome figure". But then I think "Nah, Maria has always been an Awesome mystic figure to me...."

P.S.- I am still as creepy, clingy and needy as when you left.

Festina Vite Lente

home again...wait, home?

...And here I am, home again. Although I believe the defenition of home has shifted the last couple of months. Old friends, I am here again: (relatively) thinner, (relatively) wiser, and...why not? more out going. Nostalgia hasn't treated us well. has it? Maybe I was being naive in thinking that I would comeback, and be greeted with a smile. "It's not like you're coming back from the great war, David. Relax." And yes, that is what I did. We analyzed strip bars and strippers. Things were so simpler back then, and retrospect, things are always more simpler. But we had some drinks my friends, some cigarettes and some good conversations, I have said before... thats all I need.
I saw old flames, and went to a house party like we used to do. Only this time I danced, I am a wall flower no more. I conversed, became the charmer I was meant to be, or at least thought I should be. American life is quite boring, but at least it's more fun than our small beach town.
"Why are you so high strung, dude?", you asked. "Well, its the living in the city" I answer. Don't believe that shit. I'm just trying to sound interesting. I am so high strung because I am so fucking excited to see you guys, I just don't know how to act.
Yes, this is the season of THE big comebacks. Everyone is coming back from their first semester of college, everyone has stories to tell. So lets sit back, have fag, talk about itm and maybe in while we'll dance and pretend we're back in highschool again, only this time, we know what the fuck we are doing...barely.

Festina vite lente, Bitches is back in town

These...(a letter to my father)

These are not the words of revolution
I expected to here from you, Doctor
Well, yes, technically I am alive
A better fate than most, I suppose...
If fate I can call it.

Remember when we had hopes, Doc?
When I would be an astronaut
and you...
Well, you would still be Doc.

Remember when the light was bright, Doc?
When we would have long discussions
of whether the light was too bright
or our eyes too weak?

Remember when you would look,
over my cradle when I was asleep?
Well, I don't, I was asleep.

So, yes Doctor...
I am alive,
Or at least do not have sufficient proof
of otherwise...

Mi carta a Mexico...

Fuchi...

Fuchi el tricolor, el bicolor
y demas arocirises que forman
el juego de mesa que llamamos:
Politica Mexicana

Politicos pagados
por cometer errores;
Pero como dijo Herodes:
"Hey...
O te chingas, o te jodes."
Y no hay NADA
mas Mexicano que eso....


Por que luchamos
para ser mas como nuestro vecino del norte
y hacer menos a los vecinos del sur.

Pero ahhh que chulada!
Mira nomas, como va el progreso!
Si ya tenemos una Macroplaza, un Galerias,
tenemos comunidades enrejadas,
y nuestra propia concesionaria de autos!
Ya somos toda una Urbe,
una sociedad compleja.

Sociedad compleja?!
Bueno, supongo que tienes razon...
Somos bastante complejos,
le damos vueltas y vueltas
y MAS vueltas;
a algo que pudimos resolver
a la primera,
o bueno, te doy chanza
a la segunda vuelta.

Mexicano en Mexico?
Pues, si lo podria hacer hoy
pero es que
en media hora empieza la novela y...
Mexicano en USA?
Yes Sir! Ahorita Patron,
Cortititito queda el pasto va ver.

Curioso...
Como el trabajador,
se siente mas trabajador en otro pais
Asi como yo me siento mas mexicano,
no estando en Mexico.

Festina Vite Lente

Amigo...

Lei las cosas que escribiste, me tome el tiempo para leer todo lo que me habia perdido los primeros meses que estuve aqui, lejos de casa. Claro me informabas, y te daba los consejos que yo como amigo te debia de dar. Pero una cosa es que me los cuentes, y otra cosa es asomarme en tu diario.
Lo hice por pura casualidad camarada, por el hecho de evitar hacer mi tarea, y tal vez hasta evitar dormir. Pero por esos 15 minutos, fuiste mi maquina de tiempo.
Regrese a la prepa, a las fiestas de los de 5to semestre cuando nosotros estabamos en 1er, a los cuales nunca estabamos invitados pero nos creiamos en derecho por que la hermana de juan estaba ahi. Me acorde de la primera vez que lei tus babaluqeos y descripciones vagas de historias que ya conocia. Recorde estar en el pasillo sentado con ustedes haciendo las tontadas que uno hace cuando esta sentado en los pasillos en la prepa. Recuerdo los cigarillos a escondidas detras de las bancas pensando que algun dia me iban a atrapar, nunca lo hicieron.
Recuerdo cuando me tratabas de meter a bares, cuando juraba que los 18 nunca llegarian. Ironico, ahora que estan aqui quiero regresar a los 16. Recuerdo cuando experimentabamos con cosas que no debiamos y otras con las que si. Las noches en el parque de valle verde, lo dulce que sabia la cerveza en la playa despues de pintearse la ultima hora con Bueno.
Pero ahora estamos haciendo lo que debemos hacer, estamos formandonos. Vamos en camino a hacer adultos productivos y funcionales en la sociedad. Que mamada... en mi vida he sido productivo, y en mi vida he conocido a alguien funcional. Bueno, tal vez sea yo. Melancolia y nostalgia siempre han sido mi fuerte amigo pero tambien un optimismo cynico, sea lo que signifique eso. Pero en tu camino a ser un adulto responsable, productivo y funcional solo recuerda una cosa....y solo una cosa....

Te quiero Carlos, realmente lo hago.

Festina vite Lente

An ode to the Honda Odessey

I look out my window
and all I can see
Is the cages we live in,
you and me.
Don't worry children,
just get a job
suburban cookie-cutter houses
and a walmart close
so you don't need to go afar.
Dirty lady magazines
is so 90's,
let's look at our Better Home & Living.

I should be the one to complain,
my former existentialist questions of:
Who am I?
What am I doing?
Where am I going?
Silenced by the oh so important:
What's on TV tonite?
Is there Wi-Fi here?

Is there even a fighting on my behalf?
Or am I guilty of intellectualizing my apathy
by calling it "Nihilism"
Justifying my indifference
because the ones around me don't care.

So I am sorry friends of old
I do not read those biographies anymore,
But I can tell you all
what Nordstrom has prepared for us...
for next fall.

A playlist to rember

Mandy Moore's movies suck...

So, most of my friends are leaving town, as I have done. The thing is that the friends that are leaving are the true ones. The ones that I know if I find walking down the street, we'll chat and not a second would've past. But since they are going far away and on a plane with nothing to do, i have made them this playlist as a "See you guys later, you guys". So without further adieu...

THE PLAYLIST!

Morrissey- Hairdresser On Fire
Radiohead-Exit Music for a Film
American Football- Summer Ends *
Belle and Sebastien- The boy with the arab strap
Rocket Summer-Brat Pack*
Daniel Johnston-True Love Will Find You In the End
(If you guys feel lonely just listen to that song, it sure helped me)
The Format-Im Ready, I am
Death Cab For Cutie-Like Brothers On A Hotel Bed

(Some songs are fillers, but i put an asterisk next to the ones you should look up the lyrics for)


I know im forgeting some songs but I'm sleepy

Festina Vite Lente

I cannot kill the monster...

I came home from work today, it was a slow day in general until the end where i got a lot of shit from coworkers, but jobs are like that I guess. When I came home I just sat on the couch. Staring. Thinking of my life up to that point. I was a smart kid, or at least witty. I've always did OK in school. Not 10's but not 7's either. I guess it was just out of laziness. I thought of the people that I have met in the last five years. The people who stuck around. They people who arent here anymore, the people i didnt really care for but stuck around anyway. As I stared into the oblivion of the living room wall I started to ponder. If i would see any of these people again. I started thinking about the people I would meet in the next five years, if i should meet any at all. I wondered if I could make as strong friendships as I have with the friends I have now. I started to wonder how I'm percieved by the people I am meeting everyday. I bursted into tears.
Because I have been/ am in a shitty mood lately. I have not been quite myself. I feel displaced. Alone. My current living situation is that I am living in a house that isn't mine, there for feeling like a guest day after day. I work at a job that i hate yet i keep a positive atitude, still the people at my job seem to dislike me. And i have yet to meet people my age. When and if i do i dont know how I will react since i have been cut off of most communication with my friends (due to my work hours).
I miss my town because most of my idiosyncrasies (i.e. crazy habits/wierd shit i did) where often taken lightly, they came off as interesting or odd or curious. Yet here, being these my first impresions, i feel that all my quirks just make me come off as the mental patient i really am.
In fewer words, i feel alone. I am scared of continuing being alone. I dont want to talk to my friends about it (Cas,Maida,Pau,Alvi, etc) because I'm pretty sure they're fucking tired of me being such a fucking drama queen. But I do really want to talk to them, even about meaningess shit, like "Did you see the Transoformers movie? Did you notice the latino guy just disapears after the first action scene? I mean he doesnt die or anything, he just, isnt in the movie anymore..." or something like it.
I miss when me and Cas used to make fun of people right in there faces when they where talking just by throwing eachother this look. I miss Maida knowing every obscure movie refrence I make. I miss Pau yelling at some waiter in some godforsaken bar over trivial shit. I miss Samara just agreeing to everything I said during a drunken rant just so i would shut up. I just, miss you guys....

And suddenly the boy had the courage and the strength, he got up even though his 5'9" frame was barely noticable for the ten foot monster, yet out of his pouch he took out the one thing he had left, the memories of better times. The boy grew, and grew, and grew, and before you knew it the roles where suddenly switched, the monster cursed at the boy and said that he would come again, to which the boy responded "I will be expecting you, and i wouldnt have it any other way..."