Kati

This is a long over due tribute to one of the most special persons in my life. Her stubbornness, drive and above all her genuine confidence in people made her the pillar to the very few and fortunate lucky enough to have been in her inner circle.

I haven't cried you, and I haven't let myself miss you; mostly because of being afraid of realizing how much you meant to me and how much I need you to tell me that everything will be OK the way you always told me with that unbreakable confidence.

You were my second mother, my sister, but most than anything, you were my friend, a lot more than I was to you.

The only stranger that ever crossed my path not needing anything from me, but instead gave me so much. So much I can't even begin to describe the void, and the darkness in which I find myself now.

We built so much for so many people and we realized so many dreams. We traveled the world and you gave me tools to grow and succeed in my professional life.

I still describe you as the most difficult person to deal with, and I lost count of how many times I referred to you as my Karma. God only knows how many times we fought, and how many times we were ready to kill each other.

I do miss you my friend, and I'm crying you like a little baby, and I hate this life for having taking you away from us, and I wish I was reading one of your tough love emails right now as opposed to my empty inbox.

As I sit alone, broken into little pieces and desperately trying to put myself together I can't help but wish you were still around shaking this boring world and telling me how we were going to conquer the universe.

You always said we were building a solution not only for this world, but but the whole universe, and you had this dream of being in the moon one day. I do  hope with all my heart that you stopped by on your way to heaven.

Goodbye

I am turning my back on the dream, and the obsession of making it work. I've been hesitantly lingering at the corner trying to hold on with one hand to the past we've built together. A past that it has dried out and a past of solitude and mutual frustration, but I past we also started with hope and what we thought was love. My other hand is on the edge of the corner, pulling, as I try peeking at what might be around this corner of uncertainty.

I am at the corner of uncertainty split between what has been and what could be. Torn between letting you go, and being reborn into something beautiful. There is pain and loneliness when I turn back, and there is hope, but fear when I look ahead.

I am frozen unable to move, speak and think and I can feel time passing by like a blob of molasses eating everything in its path and it is in that path where my dreams and my history collide making it impossible to distinguish what I am and what I want to be.

And I hate myself for wanting to live in the past, and at the same time so afraid of the future  missing the now; the now which is running through my hands like a burning liquid evading my consciousness.

It is goodbye though, it is the murder, the killing, the destruction of my own destruction, and being reborn. Grabbing hold of what really matters, what fuels me, what is. The becoming of me, and the acceptance of my own faults, but most importantly, the acceptance of my humanity and the perfection of being me now. Not what I was or what I will be, but the realization and celebration of me... NOW!.

No Apologies - Introduction

These are the notes that we all want to write but never do. These are our raw feelings, those we push deep inside because we feel so ashamed of even acknowledging their existence.

It is said that one has to tell one's story;  in order to find yourself, you need to take the journey they say. Empty your mind, know yourself, tell you story. This is my story.

I wanted Saul to write this, after all, he is my alter ego. He is supposed to be the raw, unapologetic insensitive mother fucker, but as it turns out, he is as shy, introverted and scared as I am. I wonder why he still lingers around when I'm left to deal with life on my own.

I've gone through life hiding in the comfort of mediocrity. All those mixed signals from my parents, teachers and friends. How can I ever forget those warm fuzzy feelings from hearing them say "you've got so much potential!" or "WTF were you thinking????" But it's not their fault. We have been forming this society of conformity  and anyone daring to go against the grain is quickly labeled as "problematic" and readily "disciplined".

So I've master the art of self sabotage in order to keep myself hidden under everybody's radar. Why would I want to share my ideas, they are dumb, how embarrassing would be if they all laughed. They will, I said!

What I think, what I feel, what I am... repressed because of my fears of been laughed at, judged, rejected, singled out and not being able to fit. Well the joke is on me... I never fit, and they all laughed anyway, I was judged and rejected and I didn't even have to be me, so why the fuck didn't I even try to be me?

40 years fast forward, and I say no apologies for being me, for what I feel and for what I think. No apologies for baby me, no apologies for boy and teenager me, no apologies for adult me, and certainly no apologies for old me.

Fear

Paralyzed and unable to move, think or act; beyond the adrenaline rushing through my veins intensifying my senses in order to survive, I sit motionless through our universe with every single drop of life drained because of this fear of everything. I've always wondered what lies deep under my layers of fears. Am I the hero or the villain? the savior or the executor? the angel or the demon?

Somehow, the greatness got lost between the lines, between the could have's and the would have's, and I keep going through this endless maze of agony and despair unable to face my pain, suffering... my failure.  Hell... not even my joy and success.

I thought I loved you, and I thought I had walked right along the abyss of our solitude to be close to you, so close we could rip each other's atoms with the gravity in our souls, but I never did. I stood there, frozen staring into the void dreaming about you and I instead of being you and I.

Will I fail if I try? will I sabotage my own success? I wish I could not only understand but feel real failure, real pain so I could get back on my feet, and realize that nothing is the end of our souls.

The Dream

Been so long in this dream, comfortably loosing myself in a sea of frivolous tasks and easy kills. Wake up, go to work, kiss her goodbye, kiss her hello and like a brainwashed prisoner I kept drinking the kool-aid of happy times seeing a stranger in the empty mirrors flying around my head.

The soundless music, the tasteless food and the colorless colors around my dream, the coldness of the human touch, and metal hearts pushing my thoughts down.

I'm peeking through, and I can sense a glimpse of a better life, and as a faint ray of light warms up my snake skin I can believe there is something else.

I want to break through, and rip through the fabric of my numbing reality, but I feel my mind giving in, my body aching, and my soul dripping down a rabid black hole devouring every last shred of strength.

I feel my tears turning to blood, and my blood turning to dirt as hell engulfs my feelings of forgiveness for me.

Yelling and screaming, grunting, pushing and shoving, running tirelessly, imploding and exploding at the same time. Craving, but giving up and the endless inner battle  goes on and on and on.

I want to face those demons I am so afraid of, or is it just me? has it always been only me on the other side of the mirror challenging me? am I my own demon holding the keys to the doors of pain and freedom?

Someone wake me up from this nightmare, someone save me from myself!

Little Road Trip

I took this little road trip,
still trying to get used to my brand new solitude,
I was hoping this little road trip
would let me find myself,
but this little road trip
hasn't panned out exactly as I hoped.

I'm a little scared,
I drive back tomorrow,
and I cant help but picture
myself driving into this huge boulder back home.

Funny word home,
I do not have a home anymore,
and this little road trip of mine
has only brought my wounds to plain view
like scolding blisters all over my soul.

Would anyone come to my rescue
see beyond my dying eyes, and maybe...
feel I'm worth rescuing.

How can you? I wont risk saving myself, why would you?
How can you? My mind is rotten, and my soul is dark, why would you?

And this little road trip, hasn't cleansed this pain away.

Myself... now

I wish I could just pull...

feelings out of my soul,

thoughts our of my brain

images out of my memories

and leave my soul exposed 

dripping pain and bleeding feelings.

Watch it dry... squeezed out of every little drop of happiness, hope and love.

I wish I could peel my skin off, 

and set myself free from pain, and joy.

It is this maze of uncertainties, hopelessness and despair.

It is this maze of darkness, silence and myself. My dreadful self!

 

Solitude

I feel my mind racing from thought to thought, speeding faster than light taking me from our discussion of last week to our huge fight 10 years ago.
Going over and over what I said and what you didn't understand, what I couldn't see, and what we didn't appreciate enough to realize we were never alone.

What if?
    - I had said it differently?
    - I had done this or that?
    - I hadn't done this or that?
    - I was not me?

The blame, and guilt, the fears and everything staring right at me like vicious monsters staling my weaknesses.

I feel it now, its fingers wrapped around my soul.. squeezing it tighter as  I feel it bleed through my eyes. I am scared of being alone.

Monster

There is a monster within, a mean, evil dangerous beast that has been chained to the bone. Every single thread of life is constrained by chains of fear. Fear to be judged, fear to confront and stand up for what I believe, a fear to be myself and not being liked.

There are times when I feel abused, neglected, ignored...stepped all over that I wish I could let it loose and protect me. But it terrifies me, the pain and suffering it could cause, because I cannot control it. I've seen little glimpses  of what it really is.

I could rip my flesh apart and expose it... in its more animal state, raw and uncontrolled while I crumble to my knees letting it grow stronger as I give in to the rage filling my lungs fill with liquid fire and my hands become hardened like massive boulders to smash everything around me.Tunnel vision as my eyes darken to a pitch black just as my soul

My Fractal Reality

I feel lost in the repetitions of my universe and those around me, in a relatively close proximity but so far away that our minds and limited understanding of life and matter wont let us dream.

I feel lost because everything that I did, I did it for her, so it goes the cliche, and how idiotic it is to live our little insignificant instant as a function of someone else depositing our hopes and dreams all over them as if they were the proverbial Happiness Christmas Tree.

My sadness, my excitement, success and failures were carefully aligned and hung from her, and not realizing she is no longer part of my life, everything seems so worthless and pointless.

From the bottom of my dark lonely pit, I feel like crying blood and sweating anger at her... why at her?

And I wonder and wonder day and night, is my other me suffering on that other dimension where our universe gets to be a spec of dust in some exotic mega monster plant where its perfume intoxicates another me making love to her. Can I calculate the odds where over and over again in every single potential combination of cause and effects leads me to her?

An endless purgatory where no matter what choice I make I end up loving her, and in every single one f those endless possible endings, I fall to my knees heart broken wondering where I lost her.

Dante's hell sounds so appealing now.

Inspiration

I was, I am, I will be the inspiration of my day, the becoming of something beautiful ever changing and  reluctant to stay still.

I've got a broken heart, and I cant seem to take a step with out falling back on what I could've been for her, but never for me.

The sublime, but not the pursuit of anything, but just be, and become as life wishes, pausing just enough to marvel at its brilliance, and perfection; its balance and adjustments, but just being with no grand desire of becoming something if I do not know I should or shouldn't.

I want to grasp the simplicity of just being and wash away this frustration of not being able to be whatever she wanted me to be.

I wanted to be her inspiration, the perfect fit and the fallacy lies right within that premise of wanting to be something for someone and believing that happiness should follow suit.

Traveling

I was back on the road again last week, and as usual, not a big fan of taking pictures. Just the thought of planning and stop life for a second in order to capture the moment seems so fake to me, do not ask me why, it just does.

Well, this time I did take a couple, just so I can post them here and prove that I was indeed traveling.

Anyway, I wanted to share my feelings when traveling, and I'm not sure, but I would like to think I'm not the only only one who thinks or feels this way.

My first sensation when sitting at the gate, or walking up  and down the terminals, seeing the rivers and oceans of people walking, running, standing, I cannot help but wonder, almost obsess about each and every one of them, about their lives. Where are they going, where are they coming from, what does your house look like, what kind of car they drive, how is their room decorated, what do they do when no one is watching? Are they as perverted as me? I wish I could learn all that just from watching, and observing. Are they sad? happy? what was the latest news the hear before leaving home? what are the thinking? Are they thinking about me the same way I'm thinking about them?

Every time I travel, my diminished feelings of belonging are worsen; the stranger that no one ever notices, a ghost walking up and down the crowded hallways of solitude.

Last night as I was charging my phone in O'Hare I couldn't help but feeling less than a grain of sand in and endless beach, and no matter how special I wanted to make myself feel, the insignificance of our existence could not have been more obvious.

Courage

Where do we find that little push we desperately need when we hit bottom? Leave that sucky job that is going nowhere, wake up really early in the morning to workout or leave her when you know deep inside she never loved you? When you've failed time and time again to win her heart but it never was meant to be yours?

My mind is drained, my heart broken into thousands little pieces of liquid  sadness and I can't find that little extra in me to walk away.

 is plain cowardice or can it be justified as tiny threads of hope still lingering in the void of our failures?

My temp corner

I would say, given the fact that I do not like myself one bit, that I'm the least interesting man in the world, and you would think that I'm looking, reaching if you will for someone to tell me... "no, you are special", but I am not. I couldn't take a compliment from my FB "friends" or any other attention seeking whore.

I didn't shower today, and after working the whole morning, I went and watched TV for a little while, waited for the wife to cook, then when the afternoon was setting down, I worked on my backyard... the real mexican huh? I love working on my yard, but I hate picking up dog poop the same as I hate cleaning puke, and why not, wiping my ass.

Anyway, I also spent a good part of my evening cleaning up my temp corner.

So now I'm sitting at one of those chairs, drinking my pinot noir, eating cheese, and after a couple of chapters from the first and last freedom, I was drunk enough to pull out my laptop and write a couple of lines.

I am married, I've never had an affair, I've got 2 dogs, a job, 3 kids, 2 cars, a laptop, a bike, and after a whole day of nothingness I wash away my thoughts in a sea of depressing thoughts and irrelevant data that comes out of my tv or computer, so yes, I am as vanilla as they come, and for one or two reasons, that bothers the shit out of me.

I want to be a Jim Morrison, and Albert Einstein, a God damn Frank Sinatra, fuck, I wish I was my dog Calvin the careless little yorkie who sits on the sun the whole day waiting for someone to open the backyard door to come running inside and pee everywhere. I wish I could pee everywhere!

Back to my initial comment... I am the least interesting man in the world, and I drink 2 X for Christ's sake!

Why do we crave to be spacial? we chase that spacial place in someone else's mind with complete disregard of what we are and want giving ourselves away that not even the whore at the corner would only to find disappointment and misery, but isn't that what we crave? drama and misery? it not that the ultimate sacrifice?
To live and die for someone else other than ourselves?

Social Media

I woke up this morning with the inexplicable desire to know what you had for breakfast, and of course the need to decipher what your cryptic message could possibly mean, and how could I resist that relatively cute picture of your kids, no, no, no, I can't. I need to know every little single detail of your interesting life, and if you can add to all that, those beautiful single line expensive pieces of wisdom you acquired either from another post somewhere within your massive list of friends or read in the back of the bus... please share it all!

I was just thinking that I could possibly write a whole inspirational book if I were to append all those little notes we are writing on each other's walls and circles and probably make me a million or so. 

I sat on my judgmental chair last night and while bored with my own life I turned to my trusted FB and G+ to fill in the gap. Low and behold, I didn't run short on inspirational quotes from all my happy well adapted "friends" who spend countless hours sitting on their ass looking for something interesting to put, and oh my God have they failed, day in and day out they have failed in providing me with the entertainment and depth I so desperately need.  

I wish I could trade likes, and be part of the club, and I am so jaded now that even when someone manages to put up something interesting I somehow dismiss it as stupid or useless, but we have become such a lazy bunch that blogs and full length articles have become thing of the past and replaced by tweets because guess what??? they HAVE to be short! 

Which brings me to a realization that I better stop writing before I lose the one reader that might have come across this.

I have literally been having this strange sensation lately of being outside of the world, a complete outsider if you like. I do not seem to be able to connect with a single person in my life as every conversation that I could have would be completely irrelevant.

I'm incapable of capturing any of my thoughts which seem to be blazing through my mind leaving it emptier as time progresses, which brings me to a topic that has been circling my mind; pretty much like bird of prey circles the sky calculating its attack, waiting for the perfect moment to charge and rip the profits of its patience and drive only to satisfy its hunger. Is my life interesting? what does interesting mean? is it fashionable to be interesting? Do I find anything interesting at all? And all those questions force me to thing about labels; labels of level of intrigue, fascination, beauty, humor, introversion, extroversion, pleasant, perfect...boring! next topic please.