this thing has taken on it’s own life. i suppose. i don’t know who’s who. it might just be one person going on, or maybe a few people actually still reading this and responding. quite curious. have at it. maybe if the latter is the case then you try the whole blog thing for yourselves and feel free to post a link here. then you’d have more autonomy. but if not, it’s fine here.



so what has it been, it feels like a year, but probably only a couple of months. i guess since i’m writing this an update is in order.


nothing happened


without going back and reading where i left off, ini moved away, i stopped teaching and went back home, and myself and my other are working things out. things are good, and everything seems to be moving in the proper directions. but i still think of her and what might have been. my feelings are no less true in hindsight, but i don’t look back out of habit. proximity and all of the other things i mentioned before were all true. i hold on to the idea that it was more than just a one sided thing, that we had real feelings and real things happening, but way too much in the way to make way for anything to really happen. so i’m home and making art and happy.



good luck out there.

where have i been? nowhere special.


nothing really happened, i just needed an extended amount of time away from being so self reflexive. it wasn’t helpful to do something or plan on doing something, then immediately write about it. it started to feel staged and stiff. i just wanted to let things be.


but there is something more to that. i really didn’t know how much more i could talk about the same thing. it felt difficult and redundant to keep revisiting this thing that had no immediate resolution. this thing is more of a long haul type of situation, and it needed a moment of literary quiet to let things move to the next place they needed to move to. and where is that? i don’t know any more now than i did before. all i know is that i’m still holding out for that teenage feeling. all the loves that i’ve had harken back to that moment when i didn’t know better. and that’s okay.


but if you are curious, this is what i did. i put myself out there as a person who is in love with a girl that i can’t have. i’ve admitted that i won’t win, but that doesn’t mean that i’m defeated. i can’t not be in love with her, whether she wants me or not. i’m not giving up, i’m just giving in. here are our lives, and maybe one day things could be different, but right now this is what it is. i am so entranced by her, i adore her so much, and i am grown up enough to just let that be the way it is.


and i never really left. but i don’t know if i’m back.

i don’t talk specifically about my art. only that i do art as a thing that i do. the reason being is that it would become easy, easier, to figure out who i am. maybe give people the ability to figure out who i am actually, or figure out how to connect who i am to this suite of writings. and i don’t want either happening. but i can maybe describe what i am interested in, in terms of what it is that i make art about. let me try to put it in the simplest of terms.

my work is about loneliness. not about romantic loneliness, although that is there. It is about being alone in the evidence of everyone existing around you. this manifests itself in a lot of different ways. most evident would be through landscapes. i also make more graphic based images that reference my internal dialogue and how i occupy my time trying to combat that. i also make sculptures that are gestures of more time killing. playing with legos type of thing. i make videos too. not quite sure what that’s about. not yet at least. as for performative type of arts, i do think that there is a level of theatricality in the way i carry myself. however it is not the typical manner that is associated with artists, and i do my best to promote the archetype as well as subvert it. i play music too and am slowly in the process of making an album with my family. it’s been on the backburner for a while. but hopefully over summer it will be done. stylistically the album will be based on the moments leading up to the reformation era. but in a larger scope i range from late 70s garage rock, but not really punk, and funk and soul. we are writting songs simultaneously for all 3, but are closest to completing the first one. It is not at all a professional type of recording, but we have enough history in music that we can make it happen nicely. and there is something i do like about the low-fi sound. and lastly i am a meager writer. i would love to write a novel one day, but i mainly just write prose. nonsense really. so there it is.

hope that clarifies a bit. if it doesn’t reread it and stop after the 7th sentence.

it is the furthest thing from boring, but it’s such an insular practice and specific dialogue, that unless you knew it, it’s hard to get.

it’s not a lack of ability or desire to say the words. it’s a matter of being timely and allowing her and i the ability to not air our feelings in a lopsided manner. it is personal between us and i feel it should take place there before, if ever, it takes place here.

i am suffering from a mild case of brain vertigo. not real vertigo, but the brain version. i don’t think that means anything actually. let me figure that out. um. revisionist history. oh i know. it could mean that my thoughts are off balance. that the things i think about have lost their equilibrium. that works.

yes, thoughts out of whack. off balance. in an ongoing life happening, things are crazy and busy and so filled with how scattered my days are. i’ve just been working non-stop. i’ve been driving back and forth. i’ve been no one place for 2 days in a row. but i’ve been going home more.

life is strangely coming together in ways that i didn’t anticipate. life has filled in properly. busily. i am making tons of headway in the studio. i’m making work like i haven’t made work in a long time. oh to be making art. there really is nothing better. it’s like i’ve fallen in love with it all over again. it feels like it had been away for so long.

i have filled my life with as much rest as i can when i have the chance, so certain things have fallen by the way side. it can’t really be helped. time away to recharge the batteries as it were. the ebb and flow. the wane and wax.

but what of it all. what of the things i spoke so hopelessly romantic towards. nothing to say just yet. nothing to you. not just yet. only because i still have million words to say. i have letters that pour out of my head. everything that i’m thinking. i want to lay it bear. all for you. not for them. for me to i guess. you. me.

sigh.

life isn’t that difficult. it is, but it isn’t. i’m living just fine. i have food and water and shelter. better than that i have friends and family and fun things. even better still i have the means to afford things and time to enjoy them and space to spread out. and best of all i have the capacity to fall in love and the realistic expectation that it doesn’t go unnoticed and that this love gets acted upon.


i cannot begin to describe where my life is at right now because i have no idea where it is. i find that it is easy to push away certain aspects of it for a bit of time. at least while i try to figure it out. i’m allowed to throw myself into my work and, not really forget just be more preoccupied with the tasks at hand. so that’s where i’ve been, what i’ve been doing, why i’ve been.


and absence makes the heart grow fonder. at least i hope it does for the people in my life, because it sure does with me.


but valentines day. what to say about such an auspicious day in the annals of romantic endeavors. well, i’m not too interested in it honestly. not at all because i am not romantic. quite the contrary. everything that i do, everything that i am about is geared towards extending my romanticism towards someone else all year long. doing it on valentines feels expected, it feels generic. so honestly i try to avoid it.


but honestly i get caught up.


no real status updates as to my situation though, because i have none to give. confusion is my real partner, my lifelong companion. forlorn heart comes in close second, with the actual women in my life trailing behind in the madness of my choppy emotional waters.


is it enough to just know that i loved them all. for me or for them? i’m capable. i’m not your average human being, i have skills and brain power to do it realistically. i just didn’t know it, but i’m starting to know it now. i can see that everything i’ve done has been honest, maybe selfish at times, but that selfishness extends from the constraints of trying to fit into real life. am i being confusing? good because it’s confusing the hell out of me right now.

my love for you is selfless. it wants nothing anymore, except the chance to extend itself unto you. how terrible a line ‘ if you love something let it go’. i used to think hang on to it for dear life. but i understand it now. don’t pretend you don’t want it secretly expecting it to come back. just accept the fact that you will never have it and be happy with the moment that you shared, however brief. those thoughts are yours, sit in your head and heart for as long as you can, stronger and more potent than any other kiss or caress could ever demonstrate. my desire is no less real. i understand now so much more. i can be the man that loved you for this moment and will never let that moment go, but in real life i can comprehend that this love has nothing to do with making me happy, that it can just sit and exist in my heart and for some insane reason that can be enough. i underestimated how potent and real this has been, banking on the constraints of love that i had known, limiting what it was for what i expected it to be. but this is different.


everything is moving. we are no different . i have in my life a place for you.

we use the world the way we were built to. no apologies. no sacrifice. no need to ask. we are what we are.


the world turns and churns and burns under our feet. it does so with no help from us.


but love. we can slow it down and speed it up and slow it down and speed it up. this is what it is. in a moment it comes crashing down without warning, and just as quick the screeching halt. and it begins again. the lumbering and the stutter. it is enough to know that it has the ability to never end.


no end. how can this end. it doesn’t. even if it isn’t still pumping blood through your heart, still tugging at those aortic ropes, it never leaves. it never gives up. how can you forget? you can only remember the way it burns itself in. impossible and indelible. it is a secret that we can’t hope to forget. that we can’t ever let go of. we wouldn’t. we shouldn’t.


______________________________________________________________________



Let me hang on to you with everything
stay with me a moment longer
Pull this sheet over your shoulders
shudder in the cool air
my hand falls across the small of your back
I try to grasp your skin steal your warmth
one last time before it never ends

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.

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…

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.

I knew that one day I would fall in love. I knew that it would happen in a realistic manner. That it would be reciprocal. Not the way love had been lopsided in the past. I knew that my heart would be chased as much as it was chasing. That was when I was young. That was when I knew better than to admit that I didn’t know better.

Now. Older. Smarter but not wiser. What is it I know now? Everything I wish I knew then and then some. But in reality no more now then ever before. I know that love isn’t something you can ever balance. You can try, by god must you try, but it can’t happen. It’s like trying to keep the water inside of a glass steady while you’re sitting on a boat. And in a macro sense what is steady when the earth spins on its axis, rotates around the sun, spins through the galaxy, collapsing on infinity, growing towards nothingness. We dance around like fools for something that we can never control.

This is not pessimism. This is celebratory. I love love. While love is not victimless, it is by no means a crime. It only feels like that sometimes. It only is like that sometimes. Maybe even most times.

It’s no different for me. I’d like to tell you that it’s all figured out. But I couldn’t. Not honestly. I know that love and life might not be the way I hoped, the way I dreamed( the dream I dreamt a million nights for as long as I’ve known you), but it doesn’t stop me from loving. It doesn’t keep me from wanting. It just keeps me dreaming.

You there, the girl that placed my head in the clouds, all of this has been for you. I hope that this has been something worth your while.

A quote attributed to kristofer kristoferson:
“it’s bad when you love them more than they love you, but it’s the worst when they love you more than you love them.”