tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-99498062024-03-12T16:39:47.078-06:00Borrowed FleshLMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.comBlogger1589125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-28873703909203726932020-04-11T13:43:00.001-06:002020-04-11T13:43:38.492-06:00goodbye<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxAkM7Yp1o32xxFjSX0Mg5-6TDtMRRjp5PbvDY3NyuvR-OorBR3lagfoJJNPrYhSihqJpDWZgfzhmQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-52643606346311196852020-04-02T15:01:00.000-06:002020-04-02T15:01:52.947-06:00day 32 of quarantine<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My neighbor was kind enough to check up on me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw_4BsbSL3UjvuMlVNr7-sBMuNLxQlUM5dHRhSZtNYK6fr4p9iCAfkQj_1xqYkiTsWEaUDNh8__yEw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-41589598075953401152020-03-30T12:52:00.000-06:002020-03-30T12:54:16.643-06:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>all</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>I</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>see</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>everywhere</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>are </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>the</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>dead</b></span></div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-1941894457404135242020-03-25T01:00:00.000-06:002020-03-25T14:40:23.174-06:00i made it this far<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VeOPsBkI75c/XnvBfY4ukzI/AAAAAAAAKCY/3zPEye-c234wNLozCmlM1j5J7X0VX9iDwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/fifty-three-2961271_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VeOPsBkI75c/XnvBfY4ukzI/AAAAAAAAKCY/3zPEye-c234wNLozCmlM1j5J7X0VX9iDwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/fifty-three-2961271_1280.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-50147414414796303492020-03-09T13:12:00.002-06:002020-03-12T11:08:46.229-06:00abstract trepidation<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I roll over in the musty sagging bed and attempt to piece
together the night before. The dank room I occupied was windowless; graffitied
walls painted pink with the lingering stench of a million Mexican hookers. I
lay naked on an old spotted mattress, itself smelled of mildew and various
indescribable aromas. The bathroom was down the hall. I arose slowly and
staggered to the sink next to the bed and took a piss, washed it with water
from the tap then splashed my stubbled face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gravity took over and I slumped uncontrollably back onto the
bed. I lay there dizzy and aching - head pounding as I stared at the naked
light bulb dangling from a wire coming out of a hole cut in the plaster in the
ceiling. Directly above my face, there was a bright yellow spot in the plaster.
</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>That's rat piss</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">, I thought, </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>not water damage. Rats always piss in the same
spot. Humans don't - unsanitary fucks...</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My mind throbbed with the kaleidoscope of a million images.
It had to be round nine at night, the bars were in full drive cause the
sidewalks were pregnant - crawling with twinky Mexican fags. They swaggered and
cooed to and fro from one disco to the next - </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Albatross, Bananas, Riches</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> - all
glaring and giggling at every crotch. The disco and chacha beats thumped as
outside between the clubs agile hustlers lurked in the shadowy shadows to rob the
unwary tourist or desperate old queen with time worn accuracy. We stood outside
</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Bananas</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> and smoked and laughed until I was invited inside for some much needed
drinks. He said his name was Arturo. Short in stature with a thin build and
black curly hair cut short. I loved his smile - heated me pants every time he
did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The place was lit, you dig. Wall to wall boys lined up
and jumping to the beat, swirling and dipping and cruising around like aroused
Tom Cats. The sexual tension was thick like only it can in these Mexican gay
joints.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Arturo introduced me to his friends - all fine characters
and there was one cutey - a thin twink named Manuel and he really took a liking
to me. And the boy really liked to drink his drink. On that note - beer and tequila began to flow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Arturo, Manny and I hit the dance floor and boogied until the joint closed down at 2am when the lights snapped on immediately followed by the shrill cries of trannies hiding their melting faces in dispair. The waiters ushered
the entire lot out into the streets where continued the frenzied socializing,
fags, trannies, and lezzies huddled in groups talking and laughing all
wondering where the next party was - a yellow hummer drove by and invited me to
a fiesta in the hills, I refused.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Arturo, Manny and I jolted drunkenly across the street to a
chicken restaurant and devoured delicious chicken tacos and made out in the
booths - where the waiter snarled </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>pinche jotos</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> but we just laughed under the
sneering glare of the fat mamacita that was running the joint - and that's when
Arturo came up with the idea to rent that cheap ass room. First we stopped to
buy a fifth of cheap tequila.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Down dark, trash littered alleys of mangy dogs and bums with
quivering hands reaching out forever, past shady characters glinting eyes under
fedoras twinkle in the moonlight and hissing hookers with silver teeth and
bruised thighs - we stumbled up worn wooden stairwells to a nameless hotel in
an unknown place and slapped down the twenty in front of a fat receptionist
chewing on a cigar so nasty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">With difficulty, Arturo pries the wooden door open, flicks
on the light and the cockroaches scatter. We ritualistically pass the tequila bottle
around - tastes so good going down. I retch. Little Manuel jumps up and down on
the bed - something breaks inside with a muffled </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>boing</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> - we all laugh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Tongues and fingers probe as clothes were peeled off and
erections exposed. I sat on the bed as Arturo laid me back and began to suck
my cock like a champ and that fucker knew what he was doing. Manny played with
my nipples as he continued to kiss me talking all dirty like in Spanish.
Arturo's fingers found their mark and were slid up in me and I didn't need to
instruct this horny fucker in anything, he puts my feet up over his shoulders,
spits into his palm, lubes his cock and slides in with slow deliberate
movements. Thrusting and lunging, Arturo fucked me as I gasped and grunted
through clenched teeth. Manny jacked me off, kissing and massaging me - talking
oh so dirty. Manny was the first, kneeling over me - he squirted his cum across
my chest...then it was me, with Manny milking it out, I gasped and squirmed in
an intense orgasm. Pounding faster and harder, Arturo pulls his cock out and
squirts his semen all over my stomach, too - falling next to me in a sighing
plop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We lay there talking a bit sharing a delicado cigarette.
Eventually both had to split and they did. They got dressed, we shook hands and
said good night - I finished the bottle of tequila we had purchased and fell
onto the bed.</span></div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-6062225611220497222020-03-01T18:36:00.000-07:002020-03-01T18:36:40.246-07:00the gay agenda<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We think we want sex. It’s not always about sex.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s intimacy we want.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To be touched. Looked at. Admired<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Smiled at. Choked out. Laugh with someone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Feel safe. Feel like someone’s really got you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That’s what we crave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's what I crave.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-83413304330903909562020-02-22T01:48:00.001-07:002020-02-22T01:48:42.618-07:00 l'obscurité est mon seul ami<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_IHxrn0QhfM/XlDoNo3UyOI/AAAAAAAAKAo/fINhu1Eic3AopbBJy1Ib4y-_LRm-oGm7ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/source.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="296" data-original-width="400" height="295" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_IHxrn0QhfM/XlDoNo3UyOI/AAAAAAAAKAo/fINhu1Eic3AopbBJy1Ib4y-_LRm-oGm7ACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/source.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, here goes: I am not normal and I have never been normal
and I’ll never be normal and please don’t ever say I’m a nice guy because being
a nice guy is the last thing I consider myself. I am a horrible, damaged
monster doing his best to stagger through this shit storm I was born into. I suffer crippling manic
depression and have been diagnosed as borderline schizophrenic. I can almost never
go to sleep. After a childhood and adolescence filled with continual abuse and
violence, I literally feel as if I’m dying when my body does something stupid
like try to rest. I see demon or monster faces when I close my eyes. This is
similar to meth addicts who have stayed awake too long and probably just a
product of my insane insomnia. I am not a person. I do not do things a person
does. I haven’t been a person in years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don’t want your pity. I don’t want a fucking thing from
you. I’m not posting shit to look cool. I’m a garbage person attempting to expell through written word what I’ve done with my life. Simply allow me to write and make my jokes. This is
all I have, understand? Ah yes, I forget, you cannot understand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have been, and inevitably will always be, trapped alone in this black diving bell at the bottom of a lightless ocean...cables severed..</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-28915996814883833602020-02-05T13:48:00.000-07:002020-02-05T13:50:33.700-07:00homeless, hungry, happy<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9g4oljuf8nU/XjspujcbkxI/AAAAAAAAJ_0/_JSqhw6_gKg28vonD4agjGjxoZOYpfEfACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/1_B-dr_xZhhFbJxnfHJJVCZA.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="904" data-original-width="1600" height="226" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9g4oljuf8nU/XjspujcbkxI/AAAAAAAAJ_0/_JSqhw6_gKg28vonD4agjGjxoZOYpfEfACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/1_B-dr_xZhhFbJxnfHJJVCZA.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">An age such as ours is the most difficult one of all for an
artist. There is no place for him. At least, that is what one hears on all
sides. Nevertheless, some few artists of our time have made a place for
themselves. Picasso made a place for himself. Joyce made a place for himself.
Matisse made a place for himself. Celine made a place for himself. Should I
rattle off the whole list?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Those who are perpetually talking about the inability to
communicate with the world, have they made every effort? Have they learned how
to be as wise and cunning as the serpent, as well as strong and obstinate as a
bull? Or are they braying like donkeys, whining about some ideal condition in
the ever-receding future when every man will be recognized and rewarded for his
labors? Do they really expect such a day to dawn, these simple souls? I feel
that I have some right to speak about the difficulty of establishing
communication with the world since my books are banned in the only countries
where I can be read in my own tongue. I have enough faith in myself however to
know that I eventually will make myself heard, if not understood. Everything I
write is loaded with the dynamite which will one day destroy the barriers
erected about me. If I fail it will be because I did not put enough dynamite
into my words. And so, while I have the strength and the gusto I will load my
words with dynamite... You want to communicate. All right, communicate! Use any
and every means.</span></div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-8599424680460368632020-01-27T11:50:00.002-07:002020-01-31T11:40:56.150-07:00one more tomorrow<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">horrible horrible horrible i cannot take this anymore i need to escape this prison i have encased myself in </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">i am not living </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">i am waiting to die xxX</span></div>
</div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-63919130733179483882019-09-30T01:00:00.000-06:002019-10-01T15:45:28.813-06:00recollections<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-miSkVVONET8/XY0XWuw3YHI/AAAAAAAAJ_A/B-dbn7BCqpQWore8-sgWn6OZSxySfPb7QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/deyty95tyssyntdw8trj.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="636" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-miSkVVONET8/XY0XWuw3YHI/AAAAAAAAJ_A/B-dbn7BCqpQWore8-sgWn6OZSxySfPb7QCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/deyty95tyssyntdw8trj.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On the dusty sidewalk next to me squat my black duffel bag
overstuffed with clothes, notebooks, and personal items I just couldn’t
live without.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A few feet away, the massive silver and mauve bus lay
idling. The passengers - all Mexican citizens - stood silent and pensive
just like me. Mostly elderly - stooped old men wearing tattered yellow Stetsons
and faraway looks clinging to cardboard boxes tied with nylon string. I mulled
over what they were thinking about. New lives? New vistas? The simple fact of
spending their remaining years with loved ones? I envy the dead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then it dawned on me what I should have been thinking about
and the thoughts were this - I had wasted a year of my life in a numbing
existence of relatively comfort and normality. A day hadn't passed my mind screamed, "How
can people live like that? Doing the same thing day in and day out - year after
year. The same friends, the same conversations - polite patter over warm
cappuccinos on a frosty morning – languidly walking the boulevard window
shopping for items you could never afford. How can people go on?" Without hesitation
I forced myself out of that early death - Change is Life. Chaos is Change. Live
to experience and not to simply exist. I made the decision to turn this stale
life up a notch. Plan? Eh? A couple of weeks in Tucson, a few in El Paso, maybe
San Antonio via Laredo then onward to New Orleans to finish and settle for a
bit in La Perla, Puerto Rico. No time limit - just travel and write. Sounded
good to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At the bus station, I took another long drag from my
cigarette. Glanced at my watch - the bus was running twenty minutes late. I
struck up a conversation with an elderly mother in a faded yellow granny dress
with red wicker purse waiting silently next to me, “I hope this bus gets
going.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Her face wrinkled into a smile - skin the color of a rumpled
paper bag - and nodded, looking out into nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In her tinkling voice she said, “You will get to where you
are going, </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>joven</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">. Not only that, you will come back and then go someplace
else.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The words of a Guardian Angel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The fat, mustachioed steward poked his head out of the
reception window and announced in Spanish it was time to board and with ten
other passengers, we herded onto the bus. Taking my seat in the middle -
as I always do, right side - pleased in the fact that the bus was not packed
and that all the passengers, including myself, had a seat to themselves. I
stowed my overhead luggage and hunkered down to the long, unknown future.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">With a blasting fart of black soot and whining of gears, the
bus shuttered and slowly rolled its way through congested street traffic to the
on ramp of the 5 freeway north.</span></div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-92065542989166523552019-09-28T01:00:00.000-06:002019-09-28T01:00:00.716-06:00camptown ladies never sang all the doo-dah day<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sky was illuminated by incandescent blue bursts of electrical
fire. Rain fell hard from tumultuous, darkened clouds, drenching me and the
scrawny hooker tittering on the corner in see-through plastic platform pumps.
She resembled a melting wax figure, like she had acquired some hideous cancer.
She squawks at me and through a rainy haze and the sound of her voice revealed
she was a he. I press on home - streets now had become rivers and sewage
outlets vomit forth a dry winters worth of back up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I cut the corner to my trap, soaked to the bones, turn the
key and slop my wet shoes into my house. Lights are turned on and I peel my
clothes off like a used condom. Stove burns blue flame, water boils and steams,
and a cuppa hot coffee is made. I hunker down and watch David Lynch’s
</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Eraserhead</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> just to make sure my life isn't that bad. The credits roll and I
slip into bed. Rain always made me drowsy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Had a headache, me, and took a handful of aspirin before
knocking off for the night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Poom! Poom! Poom!</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Somebody was knocking at my door. The
clock read 2:36am. </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Poom! Poom! Poom!</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I fling the covers off and reach for my
pajama bottoms (I always slept naked. Can't have it any other way. Wouldn't
you?) I pull the front door open to find Jose, a teenage kid from the
neighborhood standing on my landing with kind of a glow. Eyes all pupil and sniffing constantly. He went into some tirade about how he was in need of money
and his grandmother was sick and that...</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Basta!</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Can't you tell how late it is!?
I was sleeping! Some of us hafta work for a living instead of staying up all
night taking dope! Don't bother me again! </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Slam!!</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Had a hard time sleeping after that. Put some Juliee
Cruise on the stereo - she always makes me drift away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The alarm goes off, reggeaton blares forth; it is 5:20am. I
stagger to the shower and bathe in tepid water, dress and hit the dark streets
- still wet after last night’s storm. I purchase two burritos pulpa from the
plump smiling woman on the side of the road - traffic whizzes past us going toward the United
States - there is black dust in the cracks of her face. I gobble down one
burrito before vaulting the turnstile to the International Bridge. Wait grudgingly in the long line to
be waved through by a red-eyed and bored looking customs officer. Once on the
Other Side, a phone call is made and a coworker picks me up, stopping first at
Starbuck's for a Frappuccino mocha.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Work dragged like a wounded snail and I was nearly comatose
by the time I clocked out. I hitched another ride back to the border and jet
across that long divide. Shriveled, shit covered junkies in rags and grime coated
ponchos, hands outstretched, looking like beat Christ's begging for change down
under the bridge. You can hear their pleaful cries...they go unnoticed, as all
I saw in front of me was an impenetrable wall of bouncing, fat asses </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>en masse</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> as we trudged across that hump.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stopped by Burrito Row - I ordered a burrito mole with manzana
fresca and shoot the breeze with Beto, the hottie who works at one of the
stalls. I chomp my mess all the while wondering what it will take to nail that
fine ass. I digress...I was still extremely sleepy and decided to make my way
home. Mumbling adios, I walk through the muggy air - the occasional tsk tsk
from the prowling chunky chilango hooker - dodging the kamikaze bus, the
suicide taxi.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I reach my humble flat and snatch the $150 I stashed
under a beat copy of Edgar Rice Burroughs’s </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>A Princess of Mars</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. Down stairs, I pay rent to the slightly crazed landlady as her oily son looms silentky in the corner, arms crossed, watching me - the
old haggish bitch counts the money and miscounts twice before agreeing it is the
correct amount.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back at my place, I languidly sat with a Sol cerveza and switched
channels on my 32inch flat screen telly recently purchased with my tax
return. Nothing but crap. There was a rap at my front door and was surprised to
find Oscar standing in the street.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Inviting Oscar in he began bleating the same old same old
and needed cash and, well, one thing led to another and I found myself sucking
that cock - not ten slurps up and down his stiff brown shaft and he was
squirting gobs of semen into my mouth; clenching the bed covers with one hand
and grabbing the back of my head with the other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Both of us showered, I gave him one hundred pesos and he
split. Vibrating in meloncholy, I dressed and marched out - the late afternoon streets teeming with
life. Fat fag in pinstriped jeans checks me out as I pass the shoe store;
smells waft of mouthwatering rotisserie chicken displayed in neon blasted
windows with blackened filthy bum pissing on the outside wall. Small Indian
children, snot caked on their copper cherub-like faces, grab my pant leg as I walk by -
</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>moanay! moanay!</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> - a clown, a fucking guy dressed as a circus clown, DJ's in
front of a record shop. Three tattooed toughs slouch under a street lamp - flicking of cigarettes and toothpicks click between teeth - side eye me as I saunter along. My way is clogged by a group of young boys in soccer
outfits - they stand laughing and talking in front of the dusty pane windows of an ice cream parlor, I stare at them with shattered
limitless lust. Shoeshine boys call out to shine me leathers as I stroll past
blue, yellow, pink adobe houses and crumbling buildings erected a hundred years ago. Shop vendors hawk their wares - vying for my attention. The music from
various cantinas is deafening - I cut into a cafe, order a </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>coffee americano</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, and
scribble these words out...</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- </span><i>excerpt from handwritten journal, </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">
<i>cuidad juárez, march 1998</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-14677717696944328932019-09-27T02:00:00.000-06:002019-09-27T02:00:03.591-06:00one from the vaults<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ceasar was only interested in the financial aspects. His concerns more focused on supporting his wife and newborn daughter.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
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LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-53257768607995045862019-09-25T15:46:00.000-06:002019-09-25T15:46:10.094-06:00don't do it<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5qLHzGu1YNg/XYvfqxdtjyI/AAAAAAAAJ-I/bQjoeEa5jDM1XyvUBwmSs3hJbITtwvYIACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/bukowski-c-1981-by-mark-hanauer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="883" data-original-width="650" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5qLHzGu1YNg/XYvfqxdtjyI/AAAAAAAAJ-I/bQjoeEa5jDM1XyvUBwmSs3hJbITtwvYIACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/bukowski-c-1981-by-mark-hanauer.jpg" width="294" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"If it doesn't come bursting out of you in spite of
everything, don't do it. Unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your
mind and your mouth and your gut, don't do it. If you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen or hunched over your typewriter searching for
words, don't do it. If you're doing it for money or fame, don't do it. If
you're doing it because you want women in your bed, don't do it. If you have to
sit there and rewrite it again and again, don't do it. If it's hard work just
thinking about doing it, don't do it. If you're trying to write like somebody
else, forget about it. If you have to wait for it to roar out of you, then wait
patiently. If it never does roar out of you, do something else. If you first
have to read it to your wife or your girlfriend or your boyfriend or your
parents or to anybody at all, you're not ready. Don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of people who call themselves writers, don't be
dull and boring and pretentious, don't be consumed with self-love. The libraries
of the world have yawned themselves to sleep over your kind. Don't add to that.
Don't do it. Unless it comes out of your soul like a rocket, unless being still
would drive you to madness or suicide or murder, don't do it. Unless the sun
inside you is burning your gut, don't do it. When it is truly time, and if you
have been chosen, it will do it by itself and it will keep on doing it until
you die or it dies in you. There is no other way. And there never was."</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">- Charles Bukowski</span></i></div>
<br />LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-53394178880957238372019-09-12T15:49:00.001-06:002019-09-13T11:58:09.738-06:00are you there, francisco?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The sky was a mottled grey from the drizzling rain. The
wailing of an ambulance below, distant rumble of air hammers, always building
and repairing in The City.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I sat naked in the rickety hotel chair and watched the boy
sleep. 1:47pm the clock read. Could be wrong, felt later. Lighting a
cigarette, I sat transfixed as his erection melted away in the early afternoon.
Francisco, he said his name was and looked enough like a Latino Leonardo DiCaprio
from </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Gangs of New York</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> to pass as his brother, floppy light brown hair and
scraggy goatee. He lay naked on his back amid rumpled yellow sheets in this
ratty hotel embraced in the arms of Morpheus and content as a nodding junky. I
took another drag and scoped him out, hairless thin frame, eyes shut, pouty
lips parted in sleep breathing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We met last night at a dive bar on Broadway called </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Chee
Chee's</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> and struck up a conversation amid the thieves and the dykes and the just
released cons and </span><i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Atomic</span></i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> by Blondie</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> blasting over the juke box. Next day had brunch
with him at a local Chinese restaurant - afterwards we walked over to a bar.
Chit-chat ensued over drinks and then walking drunkenly to the Hotel
Pickwick, a flop that by American standards can't get any shittier. Looking at
me and smiling, Francisco said he needed to score for some meth and would I
front the twenty? Sure, why not? Walking down several alleyways covered in
shit, bums, and abandon shopping carts, copping his dope from a slick black with
gold caps, we soon entered the dank hotel lobby. Flaming old withered fag with
bad purple-tinted permed wig at reception.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"How much for a room?" I croak.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Two Queens?" The receptionist asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Nah, just two boys that need some sleep." Quipped
Francisco. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I laughed with cigarette between my lips and the warm glow of five
whiskey sours in my gut. The room was occupied by large black roaches and bad
tattered furniture. Yellowed walls stained by second hand smoke. The pillow casings had the faded tell-tale blood spots of bed bugs. The television
got three channels; English, Spanish, and soft core porn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I lay on the bed and watched Francisco take a shower, water
running down his long thin smooth frame, over an ass that was like a peach. He
sits naked on the bed and asked if I wanted to try a bang. Nah, not in any
condition. Needle clogged twice, thin line of blood from inner elbow to wrist.
I look away, always freak me out watching someone probe for a vein. He sighs as
it goes in sweet and pure. I sure can pick 'em.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The sex was much needed - hostile, violent, hot - the bed
creaked and rattled with our fucking. Your basic crimes against nature. Several
nasty positions later, covered in sweat and semen we lay embraced as the rain
pounded down outside our fifth floor window.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Like I said, sat there and watched the boy sleep. Finished
my cigarette, gargled with what was left of a can of Steel Reserve, got dressed
and left twenty dollars on the nightstand. Sweet dreams, kid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I dart out of the hotel onto wet sidewalks and incandescent lagoons. Shifting through time and The Long Wait. Cigarette smoldered
down to a butt - the cries and shouts and hacking of a hundred hobos echo in my
mind. I stand and I wait. Waiting for the world to turn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am up to speed with the necessities of my quest - that long
walk to Nowhere. But I am doing it anyway, you dig? The natives are getting
hostile and I am quite drained from their antics - I don't wanna here of your
pathetic problems, got my own.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nothing to write - cause nothing’s going on.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>- handwritten journal entry, </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>San Diego, September 12, 1993</i></span></div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-77168485264065111482019-09-10T15:28:00.001-06:002019-09-10T15:28:21.679-06:00tijuana bohemia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-60166706788805303262019-09-05T14:42:00.000-06:002019-09-05T14:48:20.823-06:00cuidad juárez<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My foul smelling hotel room rests on
the garbage cliff overlooking the poor Juárez barrio, tin shacks and white
roofs of crumbling adobe, crisscrossed in dusty wire cables and television dish
aimed up high with little dirty gardens down below bounded by the rusty metal
wall and superhighway nightmare 20th century I-10. I stand on my garbage cliff
under the setting sun rays of Huītzilōpōchtli and understand I am at the end of
Mexico - the longing pulls at me, depression of a million nostalgic images inundate
my withering mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The town is so noisy – dirty and
trash laden, streetfulls of wild boys all night brandishing their erections
under chino pants, drunken nacos in yellow Stetsons and sagging pot bellies, vulgar
restaurants, nasty whore hotels, musicians, half American stores, jumping beans
and tortilla concessions, Chinese Masonic lodges and barbers too. Big halls for
hip-hop discos and ranchero music, painted crudely with monolithic donkeys. A
portrait of a Chihuahua glares down at me donning Sante Fe style kerchief and
bejeweled vaquero hat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I light up a cigarette and walked
through the border at night back to my sad, lonely apartment, a dead silent
fairyland of U.S. dusk - deserted ghost streets and sad quiet air-cooled diners
with white capped waitresses joking softly and no one on the streets.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A dream. We live inside a dream.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>- handwritten jounal entry,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>march 3, 1997</i></span></div>
</div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-34393233747214689722019-08-31T12:54:00.000-06:002019-08-31T12:54:33.714-06:00and so it goes<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-so78H5QQ6Y0/XWWW8XhiEjI/AAAAAAAAJ9Q/Qf3yH0m6blkSl4THYrIHODpRxfBKLQC4ACLcBGAs/s1600/380953_10150423262091099_548581098_8633130_1482075741_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-so78H5QQ6Y0/XWWW8XhiEjI/AAAAAAAAJ9Q/Qf3yH0m6blkSl4THYrIHODpRxfBKLQC4ACLcBGAs/s1600/380953_10150423262091099_548581098_8633130_1482075741_n.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He lives in my neighborhood. You know the type, languidly hangs out in
front of the liquor store, bumming smokes, spitting on the sidewalk with
another sulky vato or two, doing nothing but dreaming through time. He drops by
my place now and again. Mostly when his mother is giving him flack to get his
lazy eighteen year old ass out and get a job. A listless loser. But, a sweet
kid, too. And so it goes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He has a girlfriend - a plump little number with the gift of gab who
lives with her alcoholic aunt in a shitty, red-brick building over by the dusty
warehouses with the occasional cholo shootout. She seems to love him. I'm
certain he loves her, too. And so it goes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I met him a while back coming out of said liquor store - asked for a
dollar, said he was hungry. Brought him home, fed him. He likes to lounge on
the couch, immobile as a lizard - playing video games or watching movies. He
really likes the Bruce Willis and Jackie Chan flicks. Mindless entertainment
for one so mindless. Once in a while, we'll sit and talk for hours about stupid
shit. He'll sometimes ask to pop in a porn and watch with that frozen, slack,
poker face every straight guy displays when watching porn. I blow him when he
want to. He asks and seems quite happy to leave it at that. And so it goes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I gave him the nickname Squirt on account of one afternoon we were on
the couch jerking each other off to straight porn and when he came, his semen
squirted over his head and splattered the wall. He still laughs about it. I was
upset for I had to clean it up later, cursing the virility of a twenty-one year
old, cursing my faded years. And so it goes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today, I was crossing the street and Squirt and his girlfriend were
walking in the opposite direction towards me. He caught my eye and guiltily
escorted her quickly in another direction into a shop. The meaning is quite
clear, my friend, our worlds can never cross.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And so it goes.</span></div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-28720564426529787892019-08-30T09:56:00.000-06:002019-08-30T09:56:01.936-06:00i am the fury of my own momentum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<br />LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-13969753062418731862019-08-27T01:30:00.000-06:002019-08-30T14:51:02.634-06:00melancholy memories<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>Maybe when our story's over <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>We'll go where it's always spring <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>The band is playing our song again <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>All the world is green<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>- Tom Waits</i></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was bitterly cold and we stood in a circle under silver clouds
passing beneath a dark navy sky full of stars. Two trains roared on either
sides - great monsters of steam and metal - one going to Tucson, the other
towards San Antone. Our stomachs were warm from the thin potato soup that was
just served for chow. Near our shivering forms, huddled in knots, men stood in
dirty coats - collars turned up in a vain attempt to thwart the vile wind -
smoking, spitting, coughing, talking. All black shadows in the dim lamps of the
shelter.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Switch frequencies fzzt!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sitting in the bright ass Texan sun with a hangover struggling to patch
together the kaleidoscope of images from last night. I squat on a low brick
wall in an alley downtown - Camel Wide in one hand, tall boy in the other - the
small menudo for breakfast gurgling in my stomach. Lying nearby, Robert snores
in the shade of a saguaro bush. I lean over - </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>bleeech</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>!</i> I stare down at my
steaming vomit. Oh yeah, now I remember...</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Switch frequencies fzzt!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Went to Juarez yesterday. Old boy had changed. It was kind of like
once, long ago, when you scored a sexy lover - had a lot of good kicks, you
separate and after a few years you meet up again and seeing that the person had
degenerated into a disgusting, obese slob hard on the eyes. Well, crossed the
bridge spanning the Rio and first thing noticed was the bomberos missing (The
old fire station - use to stand and watch the hot firemen play soccer) walked
down Juarez Ave. Military soldiers stood four deep; AK-47 strapped to the hip on
every corner - looked like Nazi occupied France. Not one taxi asked me for a
lift, not one vendor beckoned me to enter their shop - it was...weird. The
streets were teeming with pedestrians - life was continuing, however the
tension was there - fear was there.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Switch frequencies fzzt!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Woke up at 3am amid farting and snoring of one hundred sleeping hobos.
I slipped my feet into my plastic shower shoes and put on my coat and shuffled
outside to smoke a non-filtered Camel. The sky - the sky was fulla stars!
Beautiful! Finished, shivered and came back inside.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Switch frequencies fzzt!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gasping up from troubling, insidious nightmare. Suffocating in a black
steel box. Charred walls of my iron tomb pitted with pock marks and scratches.
Woke with the putrid taste of metal on my tongue. Put me straight into a funk.
I roll out of my bug infested bunk and shuffle bleary eyed into the mensroom.
Already occupied with seven or eight terminally addicted hobos washing,
shitting, pissing. The room smelled of farts and soiled socks as I stood in a pool of piss at the urinal taking a piss. Showered, dressed and ate a nameless slop
served for breakfast under the glare of the snarling kitchen staff. Even the
Victory Coffee tasted especially rancid this morning.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Switch frequencies fzzt!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">How many cigarettes does it take to wait? How many cups of coffee? I
sit in the dead end diner with napkin firmly under coffee cup - I was told in
that style, you can tell when someone is waiting - watching nothing out of the
big dust streaked pane window. Long shadows stretched across the gray tiled floor like the bars of a prison. It was the exact moment between melancholy tunes
on the cafes radio - that hushed quiet. Outside, it was cold and colorless.
Gritty wind whips eddies of trash down a lonely street. A long cry from the
sunny, warm surf crashing against the beach only two weeks ago. Here the sky
was a harsh cold blue - though dazzling bright, gave no warmth - only a bitter
cold; you can feel it in your marrow. I sip more coffee, took another drag.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Switch frequencies fzzt!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Diego and I cut out of the bar into a humid Tijuana street and swing next door to a $5 a night
hotel. Pay the fat mamacita behind the black bars and dash up warped wooden
stairs to a room with an overpowering effluvia of mildew. The yellowed, tobacco
stained walls were a multicolored kaleidoscope of scrabbled graffiti of both marker and
spray paint and, plopped in a corner, was a tired, slutty mattress sprawled onto the floor. Diego
smiles and whispers some dirty shit as we peel off our duds and flop onto the
mattress - bedbugs and all. Diego - this short shit - flings my legs up over
his shoulders, spits on his palm, lubes his erection and <i>whammo</i> - begins rutting
like his sad poor beat life depended on it. After a bit, he squirts and I
giggle 'Again!' and he does with me flopped around lying on my stomach.
Afterwards, forementioned Diego confides his fantasy was to screw a gringo and I was
his first. <i>Awwww</i>, I smile inward.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Switch frequencies fzzt!</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The fat taxi driver sat wordless - hating me (the foreigner) or his
life in general as we hurtled over the hills toward the ocean. The cold wind
blew in my face and whiped my hair as I sat deep in the back chair and I thought, </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Fuck - I'm not
going anywhere...I live in the coolest place in the world!</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">power cut. end transmission...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-88936050372581366612019-08-25T16:24:00.000-06:002019-08-25T16:24:56.426-06:00room to dream<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-43177733927519091682019-05-26T02:00:00.000-06:002019-05-26T02:00:09.343-06:00a junkies journal<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sun slowly crawled
over the horizon. Off in the mist, a dog barked - a car passed. The depression
hit me full force. I had been up for days now and my mind felt like
mayonnaise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The apartment – what’s
left of it - was a filthy, dank den smelling of burnt metal and musty farts.
The mattress lay exposed from messed sheets - stained in sweat, semen, and God
knows what else. Without all the furniture I used to possess - all sold for dope - the cramped room had become empty harboring the long shadows of a prison.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I lay on my bed with a
cigarette in moist hand staring at the spotted ceiling. I had nothing. </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Nothing</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.
My family hated me. I could not, would not, fall in love with anyone. Yet, then
again, what was left to love? Every relationship I attempted since my move to
Tijuana ended in psychotic fights usually instigated by my own sick mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The loneliness draped
over me like a cold, black shroud. My mind spun with the few dozen hits of dope I took throughout the night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>What is wrong with me?</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
I thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I began reflecting on the myriad of routes in life I could had taken - remaining in Los Angeles, keeping a menial
job, becoming a writer, or perhaps making movies. All those nostalgic plans in due
course collapsed into failure. Everything I attempted ran to ruin. Never any
moral support from a vile and vindictive family, never any trusting friendship
from money-obsessed, conning friends, and I won’t even go into an explanation
of the dope addicts I associate with. All they cared for was their drugs and
whatever they do have, it was never enough (As for me, it was never enough -
ever) – so, they would hone in after my supply like a shark to a wounded,
bleeding sea creature.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wanted to sink deeper
into the mattress. I just wanted to go away - </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>get out</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I attempted to focus on the
future.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One time, long ago, I
harbored great plans. Living in some posh house in the Hollywood Hills with a
handsome young lover, famous from my literary achievements, attending parties,
television spots on celebrity talk shows, getting written up in the papers -
all faded into mist. I had no future.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over the years, I apparently
acquired a mental state of such downward bleakness, whenever I did deliberate of
that hopeful future, I was confronted instead with a dark, cold abyss in my mind’s eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The depression sunk me
lower on those spinning memories. I never felt as sad, alone, and hopeless as I
did at that moment. What was the point of going on when there was no point? I
should simply die. It struck me as quite logical. Who would miss me? I would
miss no one. I wouldn’t have to worry about jobs, rent, my shit being stolen by
these damn naco junkies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My face wrinkled into
worry and melancholy. I glanced over to my end table - scorch marks, candy
wrappers, cigarette butts, and empty meth bags strewn across it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I picked up my only
meth pipe, held it between thumb and forefinger. Inspected its charred glass
sides - precious residue hid in some streaks along the shaft, behind black
char. My rage blossomed. It was this shits fault. All the blame of this
fucking addiction I acquired. God, how it controlled me! In anger, I flung
the pipe across the room and shattered it against the white-washed concrete
wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I yelped and leapt out
of bed toward the shards lying on the dirty carpet. I picked up two big chunks,
cradling those precious pieces. </span><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">What have I done? Oh jeez!</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Now I have to go buy
another one from some bitch I couldn’t stand. I examined the pieces and felt an
emotional pity for the broken parts. I felt a dismayed, kindred spirit toward
the little fucker and I just killed it!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Feeling so sad, so sad.
Especially at the stupidity of the situation, it coursed over me. There was
nothing. I had nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I rose and stumbled into
the kitchen and, removing a butcher knife out of the drawer, I knew what I wanted
to do. Why not? What reason was there for me to continue like this? Nothing.
Who would care if I was still around? Nothing. My friends would had forgotten me in
a week. Nothing. My parents didn’t give a shit, so why should I? Nothing,
nothing, nothing…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I stood grasping the
knife, clutched it in my right hand. I balled my left fist and raised my left
arm. The steel felt cold against my skin as I made that first slice. A trickle of
blood formed and streamed a thin line down to the elbow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Suddenly, I was
terrified. What the fuck was I doing?! I threw the knife into the sink and
grabbed a ragged towel to stop the bleeding. Then the tingling pain began to
throb. I was embarrassed more than anything - mortified at the foolish attempt
I had committed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I dashed into the
bathroom and grabbed a wet towel - it seemed I didn’t cut that deep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went to the corner
farmacia and purchased a roll of bandages from an unconcerned clerk; returned
home to wrap my arm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Shortly afterwards, I
sat in a nearby park. Kids jovially played, vendors sold balloons and frozen flavored
ice, couples strolled in love, the sky a bright, cloudless blue. Around me the ever
present heartbeat of life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I sat there; a
disgusting stain on this idyllic painting - a vulgar mark on the world. Such a
depression.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Trembling, I held my head,
cigarette dangling from my chapped lips - what a failure I am. Such a failure. I have
failed at so many attempts to better my life and today I failed at ending
it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Composing myself, I stood up and walked
over toward Coahuila Avenue to buy some more junk and get a new pipe.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>- Tijuana, 1992</i></span></div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-32331441428624778952019-05-24T01:00:00.000-06:002019-05-24T01:00:03.589-06:00all tomorrows darlings<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We’re all rocked by the
waves of struggle when it comes down to those circumstances that change us from
within. Whether you’re hurt, angry, jealous, or longing from afar, they prompt
you to keep on fighting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You’re carried on such
currents from somewhere that was once near-perfect in a moment, and permanently
tattoos every moved thought and emotion that traverses through the delicate
fibers of which you are composed. Your downfalls are brought about by the hesitance
to loosen the grip and let things be as they may. Returning to an existence
that is uninspired is feared, and so you try to run from it by holding on to
that short time when reality seemingly dissolved away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You do whatever we can
to chase down a fond memory, and in doing so, you bring out the worst in
yourself. Your own emotions dig craters that go bone deep, and you’re left as
cold and hollow as a winter’s night lacking even the slightest breeze. You
begin to loathe time itself and the cavernous distance it creates between the
past and present.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The moment you realize
that it will only continue you corrode you from the inside out is the moment
when you stop putting up a fight. Like even the best of times, the worst can be
carried off with every stroke of the second hand as long as you make amends
with what is, here and now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The fondest moments
will always bring longing bubbling to the surface, but loosening ties with it
and accepting where you are is the only way to keep being and moving on up.
Perhaps if time is on your side, such moments will reoccur.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Only the rise and fall
of the passing days hold that answer.</span></div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-278618681905506562019-05-23T15:24:00.000-06:002019-05-23T15:24:36.464-06:00birdbox orchestra<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzXmgFS2Uw6rTRPY2AoG_cd0yZ6Vs5m7q6SeeAH8OeCpJ9igPYLqd-Wh8ucQM1J7cadoketoFY46l4' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-68481803211329851592019-05-19T18:42:00.000-06:002019-05-19T18:42:23.237-06:00rockets red glare<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think a lot about Holocaust victims who neatly packed
their suitcases, took their children by the hands and boarded the trains,
believing as long as they listened, as long as they complied, everything would
be okay. The lies compound until, by the time you realize what’s going on, it’s
too late.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“We’re just moving you to another town.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“We’re just taking your children for a bath.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Authoritarians count on our trust and us believing it’ll be
easier to comply than resist. The fight ahead is going to be hard, but we can
never give in to our better nature and compromise with monsters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You do not appease authoritarians. You destroy them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I apologize that this entry isn't "funny" or dripping in
sexual skirmishes. But things have been getting way out of hand for this
Nation.</span></div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9949806.post-62184247246082477742019-05-01T17:03:00.000-06:002019-05-01T17:03:33.363-06:00into each life some rain must fall<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cB-lFhZrQwg/XMojquwu5fI/AAAAAAAAJ6o/9aICPdjGh9ofDraHR5zNtqQsAaJzAzYrgCLcBGAs/s1600/oct2016_c16_mexicoborder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="643" data-original-width="1072" height="238" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cB-lFhZrQwg/XMojquwu5fI/AAAAAAAAJ6o/9aICPdjGh9ofDraHR5zNtqQsAaJzAzYrgCLcBGAs/s400/oct2016_c16_mexicoborder.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was an hour after
sunrise in Park </span><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Ingerente Guerrero</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. The </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>ftt-ftt-ftt</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> of sprinklers momentarily
shut off and the grass glistened from early morning dew. The sky was an
overcast gray common to early summer months in Tijuana, which carried with it the lingering chill from a brisk night. Glimmering palm trees – their trunks painted
white - swayed slowly in a slight breeze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The old queer lit a
cigarette. A </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>faro</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> – spitting the flecks of tobacco from a moistened mouth. He
stood on the corner - the sidewalk damp from the lifting fog - pulling his
beige sweater tighter around a potato-shaped frame. He casually waited to see
if any of the young rentboys were still around. Many did stay up all night and
eventually filter toward the park in search of a free breakfast from kindly
gentlemen such as himself and perhaps some quick cash for a room to sleep in
lieu an all-night romp of disreputable debauchery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With rheumy eyes, the
old queer scanned the vast park. No one. No one worth his attention, for that
matter. He took another drag off his cigarette and glanced over to a crazed,
ancient Chinaman selecting a greasy slice of half-eaten bologna out of a cascading garbage can; washing it off with a discarded bottle of water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Chinaman cackled to
himself, mumbled something in a squeaking pitch, and began to nibble. The old
queer looked wearily away. Blew smoke out into the brisk air. Off in the distance, a dog barked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The park was occupied
with about thirteen, ratty </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>immigrantes</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> - darkly clad phantoms, their grimy collars turned up to ward off the night's chill, slouched over on the cold, metal
benches, snoring loudly. The misty, early morning air was a light blue with
overcast dew, the sharp tang of stale urine wafted past him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The old queer curiously
peeked back as he witnessed the scrawny Chinaman rummage through something behind a
bush - watched as the demented hobo hooted and shoved objects into the pockets
of his bulging, tattered jacket, shiny over the grime. The Chinaman’s head
popped up like an animal sensing danger, quickly looked around, and then scrambled off into the post-dawn mist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The old queer casually,
curiously ambled over to where the Chinaman was previously hunched behind dirty
bushes. He stopped in his tracks, a gasp of disgust jerked out of his throat,
hissing through stained dentures.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A body of a twenty-two
year old man lay akimbo in the slimy muck under the shade of a dusty
bush. His pockets turned inside out - the white cloth of the front pant pockets
poked up like obscene tongues. Both shoes missing; one foot had a dirty, white
sock, the other bare. The young man’s lank, shiny, black hair cascaded into a
pool of sprinkler mud, urine and old, dog feces. His thick, chapped lips were
bluish-white, the look of astonished horror frozen on his inert, handsome face
- scattered near his torso was a syringe, trash, a few old condoms. His attractive and masculine face, the color of a brown paper bag was mottled with splotches of blue, discolored white around the open, grimacing mouth. His dirty shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a lifeless tattooed torso.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The old queer
flashbulbed the image of the youth’s face into his brain, a look of shocked,
unmitigated horror frozen on that young, cold face. He recognized the boy: a
popular hustler who prowled Plaza Santa Cecilia hooking the drunk old men and
bloated American tourists who frequented the bars and cafés.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The old queer pursed
his lips in disgust. </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Oh, dear! What did you see the moment before you died,
sweetie? Whatever did you see?</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The old queer glanced
toward a pay phone on the corner – a fleeting thought of calling the police.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He faltered, then casually strolled toward the Plaza, decided to score for a boy, instead. He was
certain the rentboys would be working the breakfast crowd at the cafés.
Possibly young Cesar would be there. Cesar always knew how to make a drab day
turn exciting…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: right;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">rest in peace Juan Carlos, tijuana 1992</span></i></div>
LMBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18139614801025505250noreply@blogger.com0