how fickle my resolve is when confronted by someone i want to make mine.

take a deep breath. hold it in. that’s what it’s like. chest constricting and lungs burning. the quickening of the heart. prolong that feeling and amplify it. seconds take too long to pass. waiting in vain for the answer that you know that you don’t want to hear. wanting to get the thing that you think you should have had. is it enough to wish and hope. not sure for what. just something that will cut apart the waiting.

but here’s something to throw into the mix, did i remember to ask the question one last time. a question that doesn’t seem to be needed to be asked, yet still i am unsure if i asked it clearly enough, often enough, loud enough, ernest enough. not sure if it was unasked to a degree of askingness that makes it obvious that i’d like an answer. but far be it for me to come right out and ask. no, that’s too easy, too needy. so no i will not ask for an answer to a question that i have yet to ask again and again.

i’ll just wait. and let the stirring feeling in my head hold court over my heart. let it all not ever make sense. not at least for the present and soon future.

not making sense is fine. i’ve got things to say. but nothing is clear enough to make these words matter too much to me right now.



_______________________________________________________________________



so in the endless foreverness of it all. i know so many things now. and i need to let it all happen in life before it happens here.


but you know, ini, how i feel, how i’ve felt all along. and there are never enough words that i could say that could make you know what this is exactly like. but i want to try, i want to take a thesaurus and use each word twice. but let me show some restraint. i have time to be bold again. i’m in no rush whatsoever.

from the beginning i never knew when to stop…

Worst of all i never knew when to start.



So school has started again. After a month of letting my brain shut down, it all started all over again. i’m not sure if excited is the correct way to describe it. I feel a little more weary, especially now that i have to factor in an hour commute. but a couple weeks into it and i don’t feel any worse for wear. I’m starting to get used to waking up at 545 in the morning to get on the road in time. As it is i should be asleep as i type this. but i’m not. school is school, and it’s good i’m no longer left feeling stuck in that city, that i can start to roam the earth in pursuit of new and interesting experiences, but i must admit that the convenience was nice. the solitude was nice. the peacefulness was nice. the way nothing was surprising or different was nice. the rut was nice.



but nice is just nice. it isn’t the real extremes that help to define taste. it just is. so i am glad that part is semi over, but also missing what i’ve grown accustomed to. but that place has been quickly losing the things (people) that made it all relevant in the first place.



so forge a new life similar to the ones that i’ve previously lived. does that mean i’m bound to the follies of what i’ve tread before. or do i get a redo. or am i really just kidding myself. my life is mexico city. built upon the trash heap of my ancestoral existence. new things trampling and grinding the emotional wreckage of years gone by into a fine well versed dust.



yes. yes. and yes.


and somehow no.



i get a chance to just let things be the way they are without really having to change much. too caught up in everything and too smart (or dumb) to forget anything. ghostlike. they linger in my brain and heart. and not at all apparitions. real tangible people i know and love. sometimes in conjunction with other people i know and shouldn’t love. at least love at the same time.



you can’t accuse me of being timid. I tried and tried until i was plum tired. and i still won’t stop. can’t stop. i’m deluded that i’m not being delusional. i have said more and can go on and on, but i’ll wait for face time to say what i think of you. what i think of … us? that might be the best way to phrase that. not really an us to think of. conjured us. make believe us. they’re not too far off from real us, but the differences feel monumental and the odds insurmountable, when i line them up and take tally of them all.



in a semi pathetic moment, but one that perhaps shows my strength. i want to know how you feel. every person i’ve ever been involved with. i want to know how you feel. about me. about love. about like. i want you to make my knees crumble. good or bad. i want to beg you to tell me your heart. that’s all i’ve ever wanted. and i half way believe that that’s all i’ll ever want from anyone. okay, maybe a fifth or two at least.


but i would never beg for that. (or have i in less clear headed moments that i’ve tried to forget? i just don’t remember) there’s just something too desperate. i’m not trying to be slick or to trick you into something miscued from maybe a sad look in my eyes. i’d like it unsolicited, much in the same way that i went about the whole ordeal.


I can’t help but want that. and i admit it to convey that i’m scared and just want to have my fears alleviated. to know that i’m not so entirely screwed up that good people are incapable of loving me.


selfish i know…

nothing yet…

a new year to get things right. a new year to get things wrong. a new year. i want you to read these words and hear music. swimming songs of romantic intent. swoon for me. for these words. for these words were written for you. can you feel it? the build up? the climax? the denouement? crescendo to morendo? our lives allegro? enough with the musical metaphor. or is it something else. like. analogous is like something right?


well i analogy you.


does that work? make sense? you get what i mean. you get everything i mean. i’ll give every meaning i can give.


pregnant pause. waiting for the day that things can give way to something new. something more clear, less cloudy, less troubled by the heart. the tug of the heart.


but i’ll miss that tug once it vanishes. once the achiness goes the way of the dinosaurs, i’ll miss that feeling. that fear of that unknown. it doesn’t make sense.




think of me for a moment. and i’ll think of you. soon i think.


soon i think this will all be over or just beginning. start and stop are all the same. just like everything and nothing. so total in their totality. so definite in their definitions. precise precision. need i go on?


ever since i could think for myself i’ve troubled myself with understanding the grey. trying to figure out the middle the best way i knew how. nothing yet.