It’s Monday and nothing went well. I didn’t get much sleep and then I overslept. It was a waste of an entire morning and most of my afternoon. And now the sun is out, the birds are chirping, and I still can’t go outside. Now I have eight hours to make my day worth wild. Time to stop complaining and get to work.
Ritroverò la carne delle tue labbra a baciarmi strati di pelle che ho messo su in questi anni aspettandoti.
Senza un preciso tempo il ritmo dei nostri corpi nudi emetterà vibrazioni tali che confonderanno lo spazio e scomporranno il vuoto. Ricomponendo il nostro universo…
You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.
— Albert Camus
Mi chiedo perché di pensarti non smetto.
i wanna say something, its interesting to me that President Clinton has repeatedly felt the need to apologize for his Neo Liberal Policies, and each time he does, he sort of stammers, seems conflicted guilt ridden, and generally honest. now you juxtapose that with President Obama, or Joe Biden, or his wife Hillary and there’s none if that, call me crazy even though I think I’m onto something, but I think it may have to do with his Sexual Appetite. I’ve come to realize that if we are to have leaders, then analyhsing the psychology behind their Sexual proclivities is important because it shows their true character, and I think because President Clinton loves pussy so much, he has a clear sense of shit, which also reminds me, one of my boys once told me “ Pussy Clears your mind up” and when looking at President Obama or Hillary, its clear they’re most likely Asexuals, and you can’t trust anyone who is an Asexual because they’ve taken themselves out of the naturalness of life, look how unemotional and non involved President Obama is, dude is a secret Asexual, I get no Sexual vibe from him at all, which is interesting, because usually us men of color we love sex. I think this is also what doomed that woman in New York that actress, no one was gonna vote for some upper class Lesbian, just looking at her I knew that as she had no ENERGY to her, what authentic LGBT person you now doesn’t have energy ? people weren’t going to vote for some upper class liberal lesbian, because they essentially could tell she was fake, that her lesbianism was a sham, she ain’t authentically that way, she just hopping on the bandwagon to be fake, now I’ll tell you this, if she would’ve came to her race, with some BLACK DICK she would’ve won, why you may ask ? because people would’ve been like damn she got a brotha with her ? ok I’ll vote for her, BLACK DICK would’ve humanized her, look at that other real Lesbian from New York that AOC endorsed that Latina, when I first saw her, my first thoughts were this BITCH got ENERGY she’s gonna win, just how she carried herself, you could tell although she was a dyke, the bitch was REAL, and you know what ended up happening to her, it was so clear to the DNC that she was gonna win, that they committed fraud to prevent her from winning would you imagine that ?
but i’m telling you SEX is important, and people on a subconscious level understand that, when it comes to leaders, choose people who love SEX, who have healthy SEX LIVES, because SEX shows someone’s love for humanity, and as my female mentor once said, its also procreation, who can create children to move us forward ?
My Dream house is with you In it 🏡
if i looked through your window tonight / i wonder who i’d see sitting on your couch / occupying the same space my body used to / see the casual intimacy / you bringing her a glass of water, unprompted / her hands trace circles on your skin like mine did / the warm yellow light in your living a room a spot light illuminating the love story i used to star in / but it’s not mine anymore /
i’d stand under the street light outside your house for a moment too long / i think i’d miss you again / i think i’d maybe love you still / i’d think many things and say nothing / so i’d let the night end and walk the miles back home /
i know i won’t get to come back again / i’m still learning how to be okay with that.
it won’t stay like this forever
and it’s better that way
you’re allowed to feel
the way you do right now
don’t be ashamed
one day you’ll look back
and it won’t matter
you’ve moved on
no matter how rough it gets
how badly you want to stop
just hold on
there’s so much ahead
the world waiting for you
needing you to survive
I need you to hold on
Lo sai che l'anno scorso, per te,
ho perso il profumo della primavera,
ho dimenticato la spensieratezza dell'estate,
non sono rinata in autunno,
non ho vissuto il sonno dell'inverno?
Vorrei potertelo dire, oppure no,
vorrei solo dimenticare e la promessa
di non doverti più pensare in termini di resa.
Tornare a sorprendere, nell'aria di aprile,
nel freddo della sera,
le invisibili tracce del nostro lento mutare.
La fronda de los violíes
Te conocí en un nido de golondrinasllena de misticismo y me pregunté: ¿regresará alguna vez nuevamente ha mi sepulcro?
Y entre dormido balbucie tu nombre imaginario, la fronda de los violines esparcían tu risa.
Mariposillas surcaban el arcoíris del amor y la esperanza, la suave brisa hacía caer la hojarasca de tus sonrojos…armoniosos querubines cantan alrededor de tu nido.
El azul celeste del crepúsculo humedece el color canela de tus ojos.
Anhelosa sentencia fortifica mi corazón… se refugió en tu guarida de las encunadas golondrinas de mi esperanza.
flowers and weeds
i was at my window. again.
a dandelion seed flew in.
it’s pretty common to believe that people are flowers.
adding beauty to the universe.
i’d rather be a weed.
observing from the exterior.
noticing the universe.
once in a while, adored by the occasional passerby.
Despertar de los almendros ( 3ra parte )
Cuna de tus brazos retorcidos… ahí caí rendido en tus sueños floridos.
checking my forehead for fever so often
that the heat of my hand accumulates
the bitterness of brown mangoes that shouldn’t be wasted
the sharp sting of open wounds under an open tap
the nauseating nasality of an oboe in yet another contrived weeping solo
the seductive smell of gasoline
the amber aftertaste of staring directly at the sun
nothing is salty enough to drown out the constant whirring
perhaps I’ll imagine that I’m Rosa Luxemburg
swimming in the Landwehr Canal
I’m feeling feverish but I don’t want to check.
I used to like sleeping on the top of my blanket but nowadays I’m too scared.
I pull all-nighters claiming I’m afflicted with jet lag—
the only way to make the world vanish is to fall asleep
so I have a duty to remain awake.
jin guai. anni sui. kiasi lang.
I’ve tried so hard to tire all the thoughts out of me.
the tight ski boots of ruthlessness won’t release me until I descend this baseless mountain,
there’s something vulgar about virgin snow. something dead.
I stick my fingers up my nose and pull out my brain.
Nana tugged and tugged until she couldn’t think anymore.
I will take all the best parts of me and sell them at the market,
I will be a kind butcher, smiling sweetly
(still with my lips and teeth, nobody wants those)
when swimming, count to ten after every breath to make sure your lungs still remember how to hold air
and won’t be tempted to turn into gills
so you can meet her at the bottom
and the river will flow faster than your neurones can fire
don’t be such a kancheong spider
the mother of pearl in my grandmother’s furniture intone
but they are too hard to provide any other comfort.
no wonder people only used them when smoking opium.
my skull is empty now. I checked by knocking.
it’s still on fire.
i feel so alone and fragile
Just for a moment
I wish I could dwell in our future.
The one where I’d lay by your side
and feel loved,
I want that feeling now.
I want to hear your voice
and know I’m not the only one
who feels and thinks and dreams
the way I do.
I want to be held by you,
brushed by fingertips
and wandering lips
in places not accustomed
to affectionate attention.
I want you to see the beauty
I see in myself
and fall in love
with the little things about me
that even I am unaware of.
I just want you with me
for a moment at least.
Is that too much to ask?