drained.

Guadalajara, Guadalajara, hueles a pura tierra mojada

so it is not really my hometown but it feels very much like it.
i spend 6 years getting to know this city (1997-2003).
and even though i haven't lived there in 7, i still claim it as mine.
my street.
my house.
my friends.
my city.
where i am from.

color schemes

i like the blueness of my new cardigan.
and the forest-greenness of my winter coat.

it's late and i can't sleep.

things to do:

charge my phone.

make my bed.

pay light bill.

organize clean laundry.

read that book.

gym.

christmas shopping.

go to work.

buy a new daily planner.

keep it cool.

Carolina

I used to feel like California with baby's eyes so blue
now I feel like Carolina: I split myself in two
And I'm walking backwards from Chicago through Washington
but that aint enough no you want me to run.

D O M E S T I C I T Y

fall music.

long hair: success.

Evolution.

plans

"-La vida es dialectica - dijo Flor, animadamente-, todo cambia, todo se transforma."

Gioconda Belli La Mujer Habitada

field notes

- i am preaching a new philosophy based on the value of commitment.
commitment to family, work, art and ideas.
i am done with flingy aspirations.
it is time to set roots.

- i wear too much gray. layers upon layers of gray clothing.

-waking up and making coffee.
but the microwave is broken and you are afraid of fire.

-the day is colder. my hands are already numb.
a boy in a passing car screamed "HEY!"
i looked up. he was a redhead, probably ten.

i have a cold apartment on the nice part of town.

transition

(...)

anger issues / father issues

i am tired of trying to do the right things:

paying rent on time
saving money
being civil
pretending that nothing happen
pretending i don't know who you are
smiling when i don't feel like it
setting goals
getting involved
being on time. always.
being responsible. nice. understanding. committed. etc.etc.

when in the end i just get fucked over.
and i have to consume my rage in silence instead of simply saying what's really on my mind:
Fuck you. i am doing my best and you are just an irresponsible twat.

Results.

Barcelona 2010.

how do i avoid a nervous breakdown?

RoadTrips

a year ago we drove to Mexico for the weekend.

i've had a good few days:

long walks.

entertaining books.

green tea.

and a well equipped dark room to keep me busy.

lately i've been a combination of a petulant child and an uptight matron.

i need to loosen up.

shake a leg.

all is fair.

because if i am honest, i know that my issue is a broken heart i haven't dealt with.

101

i am convinced this is something i have to do by myself.

oh how strange it all is.

words. words. words.

self-portrait.

i am afraid i'll end up as neurotic and disagreeable like Charlotte Haze (as played by Shelley Winters)

summer.

i am currently obsessed with swimming.

Limbs.

let's make a joke out of it.

and keep on going. what else can we do?

*

i been getting these insane little headaches. they start at the front of head and slowly fade away.

my right hands goes suddenly numb too.

home

it is a rainy day in this salty city. (home i suppose.)

waking up in my own bed this morning has never felt so bizarre. it is hard to assimilate the fact that i am back to the routine.

extracts from an unkept travel journal:

sweaty palms.

a rush of blood.

an uneasy stomach.

(...)

men in suit. they seem to be already familiar with this routine. i feel like a foreigner.

May 12, 2010

leaving Barcelona, heading towards London.

(...)

i don't mind grey skies and rainy days.

(...)

i stretch. take off my shoes. making myself comfortable. killing time.

collective transportation: the hundreds of us, defying gravity and heading to the same destination.

May 19, 2010

here i am. 23 years old. laying in a bunk bed. earl's court, London. the rest are fast asleep. it is a friday night and i would love to be in some pub getting wasted. but so much walking has drained me.

(...)

i want to fully experience this world. but not in this quick-speedy way. but with the calmness one acquires when knowing that it will be there tomorrow. that there is no need to hurry.

(...)

ridding a train to paris.

ridding trains: a collective movement. the invisible connection among us. a bit of communal frustration (vandalism). the shared experience of movement. and then dispersing. a diaspora.

(...)

my friends sleep. mouths slightly open. rhythmic breathing. inhale. exhale. the landscape roles in hues of greens and cloudless skies.

(...)

lolita remains unopened.

May 22, 2010

paris:

metro.

crowds.

sun bathing.

pigeons.

long walks.

a boy with an easy smile.

historic monuments.

a view.

(...)

current location: a bench situated in that park behind Sacre Coeur. Alex seems impatient waiting for me to finish writing. his fingers dance. twitch.

there's a slight breeze and singing birds.

May 24, 2010

last night in short-unclear text:

paris.

sitting down.

whiskey+coke.

jumping fences.

public intoxication.

the Seine.

walks.

parisian rats.

a boy with an easy smile.

May 25, 2010

it's been raining for 2 days and we are leaving tomorrow.

May 27, 2010

the unexpected spark.

May 29, 2010

and then my sporadic writing stopped.

i am not magical. so what?

boys II

after a weekend of being the only girl among boys. i learned a valuable lesson.

they are simple creatures motivated by simple things:

food

sex

weed

(in no particular order)

boys.

the same old story. being liked but not enough.

these days is all about the long hair.

odessa

my goal is to make this a productive week.

Location

europe? ok.

extract

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call. 

"Lady Lazarus" Sylvia Plath 

my neighborhood

long walks, a cheap camera, and cheaper wine.

for lent i am giving up sex.

(it's funny because i'm not getting any)

i hate complaining.

but sometimes it feels that's all i do.

*

this morning i stayed in bed, drinking tea and listening to public radio.

family

for science fiction

i wake up every morning with a set of fixed goals.

do this. do that. go here. meet with so and so.

by the end of the day i've only done half of the things on the list.

im tired.

i want to :

hibernate.

take my time.

stay in bed all day reading a book.

write a proper letter.

take long walks.

organize my closet.

shed this skin and grow a new one.

123 mobile blogging.
Technology nowadays.

come pick me up

i wish you would
come pick me up
take me out
fuck me up
steal my records
screw all my friends
they're all full of shit
with a smile on your face
and then do it again
i wish you would

sweaty palms.

i'll take it one step at a time.

i'll burry all expectation and wait to see what happens.