Pretty soon I’ll forgot your face and that you ever existed. I hope you’ll forget mine. And maybe in the blankness of our lives we’ll find the time to move on . I don’t know why we chose this form of revenge. I guess we’re both really cowards in the end. Deleting each other from our hearts like we were viruses on a computer . I honestly don’t want to believe that. I truly wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. But now I’m falling for someone else and am committing myself to someone else and I can’t help but think of you. I hate that we made each other perfect for someone else. Hate that we couldn’t match our frequencies long enough to last a lifetime. In the end I can look back and say it was my fault because I was the one who left you And I can’t remember why, I remember being uncomfortable I remember not wanting to feel like I wasn’t enough. And we talked about everything but I just didn’t have the strength at that time to fix the darkness surrounding our relationship. Leaving you hurt me more than anything I’ve ever done in my miserable life. You made it tolerable and made it stressful at the same time but I loved our little stressful life, you were my why. In my twisted little mind I always thought you’d chase me again, I always thought it was temporary, but it’s been more than 6 months since I left and I can’t keep holding on to us like a hopeless romantic. If I ever see you again I’ll have to run from you and I hope you understand why. we’ll always have Paris, we’ll have our late 20s we’ll always have Amsterdam, we’ll always have shared movies, like Chico and Rita, and the before trilogy, we’ll always have 4 years of Spotify playlists, more specifically we’ll always have drive by milo.
Letting you go is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life this far. I cry all the time because of it. Not a day goes by where I don’t wish we weren’t dead to each other. I’m trying the hardest I’ve ever tried to be alright with my decision and I’ve been trying even harder to erase your beautiful features from my mind. Love was not enough for us and that’s not okay but I hope the next time we see each other we’ll be able to have that very adult and mature conversation we missed out on last time or better yet avoid it all together and just stare at each other like the ending in La La Land somewhere in the city.somewhere in the cocoon of the forgotten past We would live in a hedonist mirage, maybe then in a future pretend, is our permanent happiness. I hope you’re the happiest you’ve ever been now and I hope someone is fucking you a million times better than I ever could. And I also hope you’ll never read this and know it came from me. I rather keep my sadness a mystery. It gives me strength somehow. And I know I’m not ready not see you as just another stranger . Just another lover fallen from grace. I’ll never be the same again. I’ll never fall in love again. Not like I want to like when it was with you.
I’ve got impressive tears to wear before the headache plays in unison with you like an orchestra of pain it’s my favorite instrument to play when I’m all alone lying in my bed and my underwear is best used as a blanket for my mucus while it dries from a broken night at 7am where I’ve been pretending to not miss you for all this time since Christmas. I’ve been rewriting how to say it poetically so you’d know I still care to miss you wondering if your there wondering if your presently a canvas for the streets or a spring semester devoted non-casual bookworm. The algorithm showed me your new colored red hair and I swear I wont be browsing the gram again until next year, that’s for sure, and perhaps I’ll be better then, in managing the letdown that comes between all types of screens in my life and vibrating knock knocks on my thighs on my butt on my balls on my phone and the expectations of hoping its you reaching out. wanting you to be the alert reaching out. needing you to be the voice in my mouth. because I’ve learned i’m a coward in all the ways that matters your so much braver than me and my shattered shadows put together. your much smooth and clever like a meat cleaver cutting out my heart without me even noticing til I was gone.
There is an emptiness within an emptiness somewhere beneath my soul around in the center where my heart goes. It knows how valuable I hold on to words like commitment and loyalty. I am fractured there now in the place I know you know, that somewhere beneath my soul around in the center where my heart goes. Or should I say grossly went and swam and danced and drank and whammed and half-slept and scammed through those common roads where common folk go to pretend a little. And though brittle they are they continue. I know I used to. I know we bloomed there to . Even when the road was packed with traffic and embarrassment we kept the trudge. merrily mingling and pumping and sucking for others to share in our love affair. I’d go back to the road alone if need be necessary to. tattoo you on my wrist too let time include forever with you. squeeze out the blue from my lagoon and just let me hold you. No one gave hugs like you. catching my lungs in your ear. did you ever get the chance to hear my eyes close and my lungs fill in your most wonderful aroma. I’ve forgotten your face and the spaces they intrude are only digital and sadly mental. Its an awful permanently new feature I’ll never get used to.
This is a fight against oneself. In my mind she’s waiting for the 15th for at the very least an obligatory happy birthday text. But I’ll never send it because I’m a villain and villains do villainous things like breakup with someone the day after Christmas. In my mind she’s crying for me and my attention. This mental self torture doesn’t let me sleep or enjoy the taste of food or even find pleasure in watching strangers fuck. But after the 15th it will be over. After the 15th I’d be able to sleep again and do average things like constant checking my phone without the agony of it not being her. I wanted this. I needed this. Remember it when the lump comes back to your throat. Tell it to your soul and scream it to your ancestors “ I left her!” I need to take it like a woman does when she magically and miraculously gives birth. I need to take it like a newly created famous rapper after being shot multiple times because of envy and street beef. After the 15th I’ll never fall in love again, for love is too painful to stare into her eyes and give a kiss on lips that don’t want it. Lips become all stiff and hollow with no promise of tomorrow. Lips that say enough with stillness. She didn’t kiss me back the last time I saw her beautiful face in the rain . Now we’ll never kiss again and all the years wash down the drain.
I discovered my mantra today while at the Dentist office. Don’t laugh at me it really worked. In my recent past I aspired to practice Nichiren Buddhism, and thank god I stopped picking up their calls because I didn’t have the courage to tell them “Nam Myoho Renge Kyo” didn’t work for me. October is kind of a psychological problem for me and an existential one if I may add. I’m always messed up about my birth month so it makes sense why I found my something to cope finally. Dr.A is my first official dentist of my own choosing, the other ones were nice because they gave me candy at the end. Dr. A is a good looking young Nigerian from Atlanta and he’s gentle enough, so I’m not going to say it was because he was killing my teeth because he wasn’t. Mantras come to us unexpectedly or at least the really good ones do. This one is my first ever so I’m pleasantly excited. The more I repeated the words the more everything just drifted away. It’s like that moment from Rocky when he’s getting beat up really bad and his corner has him repeat “no pain, no pain” . Since I loved the Rocky movies as a kid I’m going to cough it up as cryptomnesia. “Take the pain” soothes me, it acknowledges that my depression is real and my pain is real. How do you deal with pain? I do nothing . I let time pass until my body and mind heals itself, I’m practically almost a vegan if that makes any sense. Most of my pain comes from broken hearts, poverty, and the occasional Bathroom session. I know “take the pain” sounds like something you tell yourself while you get fucked up the ass. But all Im saying is if it works for you be sure to send me a thank you.
It has been more than a month since I shared myself on the web. I guess it’s that time of the month again so I better bleed the blackest blood into these words. my silence on the triple w is equal to my own existence sometimes. It funny how I act in person or even how some would describe me in person is completely different than my writings. The masks I display in public can be very convincing. I wonder if we’re all destined to be this lonely or even this false. I’ve been feeling like a failure again because I can’t seem to match my own ideals of living a health life. I was dead without my girlfriend only 2 months ago and thank god we have made up since then because I’m addicted to her. but we’re not perfect and we’re niggaz from the Bronx. We are Spanish niggas from the Bronx unable to deal with ourselves in our current situation. Unable to deal with our emotions and yet we still find a way to love each other but we’re toxic because for too long we’ve lived in a toxic environment. It seeps through our clothes even when we go to work in the city and have to be amongst civilized people. we’re the savages from uptown. we don’t belong there or anywhere. we don’t even belong amongst our own. We’re the peasant class, the lost ones, the untouchables, the dirty niggas from over there, we even kill each other from time to time. but we love each other like nobody’s business and we make each other cry at the same time. Who else are you gonna treat like shit worse than the ones you love? The answer of course is no one, like Alicia Keys is singing it to me.
Another week goes by in my journey for self-betterment. It’s still a struggle of course. My patterns for laziness and my obsession with quick results are working hand in hand to make my life miserable. It’s about to be phase 4 here in New York. I’ve stopped paying attention to the news so I don’t know what that means. I find myself needing the gym theses days. I strangely want the gym at the most inconvenient times even before the pandemic. I used to want to go to the gym when it was closed. I used to beg the fitness gods to built me a gym walking distance from my house. A few years ago the gods granted me that wish with a planet fitness right by my house. Unfortunately I never went. I seem to keep fooling myself into thinking the gym is what I need. In reality anyone can get a good workout from home. If judgement day ever comes for me I’d like it to say I always tried my best. Dane Cook just flash through my head “I did my best, I did my best!”. Inside joke for anyone who saw his Vicious Circle comedy special. I hope everyone is doing great out there and yes I’m obviously trying to deflect because I put so much pressure on myself to succeed and its exhausting. This journey is conjuring up all the horrible childhood memories I never addressed at the time. Now these bad habits are getting harder and harder to get rid of at my age. A perfect example being, not finishing what I started. There have been way too many countless times in my life where I never finished a book I started or even something simple like homework,which i rarely turned in. and I mean not finishing books that I actually wanted to read,the perfect metaphor for my current situation. FYI, I can be really negative sometimes just go with it. I haven’t thought about this fact in years but it took me 5 years to graduate high school and I hate that about me. I know everyone learns at there own pace and blah blah blah but being different in the standardized school system makes me feel like a bigger joke. I know I have to stop moping around but do you ever feel like your life passed you by? have you felt asleep most of your life like me? What a sick joke the universe is playing on me. I remember wasting away in my room doing nothing productive for hours and hours and hours. so much so that the concept of life being short would throw me in a rage because I knew I was wasting away my teenage years and most of my twenties. Yet knowing this so young I still did nothing. youth is really fucking wasted on the young. now I’m running around trying to catch up to some unknown glory with the mentally of a 15 year old and the body a 30 year old. It’s like the reverse of 15 going on 30 which is probably true for women but for men like me its in reverse its more like 30 going on 15.
waiting for things to calm down in your brain for the small chance of days similar to before. a reciprocated love war. afraid of being afraid,are we? you’ve given up trying to fix my fuck ups, have we? ran the course of all scenarios to rearrange this? Tomorrow truly may never come. these days are an embarrassment. they store emotions like a shopping center. pick up shame and get restlessness and endless waiting for free. They shame the deals that came before. These days are worse than ever before. Don’t become bitter. Don’t start a war. constant reminders in the mirror. don’t bicker with her. Learn to love yourself first. be like glitter. Learn to love more. The world has enough poor devils living their own personal hells. If fire burned out it wasn’t worth the flame. Start another. try again. Start a bigger one. It’s never over. if you want to try again. get yourself in order and try again. She’s done it again. pretended with silence that she isn’t making a mistake. 2 days ago she told me she loved me so much. but yesterday she left nothing. If its lust let it be. let it be us undressed in your bed dead chasing our shortness of breath drowning in sweat from the best sex we’ve ever had. call the morgue and let it be our story. sex wont fix this but it will fix my sadness. I’ll take it and steal it run away with it as fast as I can. 2 days ago she asked “what if we could only fuck one last time, one last night?” Oh the number 1 . Her favorite number. The scariest number. If its true, i wouldn’t be able to. I took it at first like a cute little joke, but then it became real. I picture myself in the hotel room on Saturday crying and begging and leaving. apologizing for my weakness. I want more from her than just her body. I need more from her than just her body. I need the same constant security that she needs. the same love she needs. the same attention she needs. The same patience she bleeds for. so I wait. I wait. til I’m in a marriage. I wait til I have children. I wait til I make her jealous. I wait til I make more money. and I’ll wait a little more then til I dissipate into a sweet meaningless lonely nothing.
Happy Strange Sunday. It’s a day after July 4th the American Independence Day. Thank god it’s over. My instagram feed was filled with fireworks and parties and bbqs and a whole bunch of criticism of America, land of the free, and slavery. I’m glad a lot of people I know didn’t forget about the recent protests this country was going through. I even wonder why we can’t move faster in making the changes we want politically. But great change takes time they say. I just hope we don’t have to wait another 100 years for it. I’m reminded of Issac Newton and his laws of motion which applies to pretty much everything. The first law specifically is the law of Inertia. Which means an object remains at rest or at a constant velocity unless a new kind of force comes along and stops it, slows it down or accelerates it. There has always been police brutality that is definitely a constant and the coronavirus definitely assisted in the explosion of these protests world wide. Assisted by the unemployment rates which hit numbers none of us have ever seen in our lifetimes. I just hope when things go back to normal we won’t forget the power of the people and the need to fight for a better world. A good economy keeps people divided and unaware. I hate to say this but I hope things get worse because it’s the only way I’ve ever seen so many people united against injustice. Imagine what other changes we could fight for. The police murdering black people is just one of many issues.