vacancy

carlos.

i struggle to sleep in the evening
lavender scents and goji berry stray pungent, but in vain versus insomnia of the soul
i struggle to accept in the morning.
the scorns of having oceans of sheets at my sole whim.

childhood streaming into the adulthood.

this evening was the first (of not very many) times that i have ever sat and watched all four quarters of a football game. considering i do understand the rules and primary objectives of football, i must admit, i had my adrenaline going when someone (anyone, can't really judge whose team i was on for something i so loosely associate with) was heading towards the end-zone. i was the sole female but i had a stable sense of belonging because i was not surrounded by meat head sport fanatics, but civilized, yet spirited (and even somewhat emotional) commentators who would politely explain anything i missed.
throughout the game my neck began to pulse with cricks and pain because i was literally sinking into the green leather couch. sinking, as if it were a pool of quick-moss. it was too comfortable. it became a task to remove myself from it to go to the bathroom or grab a beverage.

if i could not understood football as the elementary level that i do, i surely would have been intoxicated tonight; but on the contrary, my restraints have succeeded.

all week like a metronome. i've come to the conclusion, "carpe diem". born nostalgic and heavy on the should resides inescapable naivety. however, not enough to evade high hopes, hopes at the height of magnitude, fatal heights. this is my first encounter with the realm of alternate reality. should this outrageous confidence be reinforced with permission to proceed? in the absence of commencement, i ensue to shrivel and dissipate into relentless i told you so's



the invasion of the scarf people, red, yellow, orange, judgmental peering and used book stores

the summer i spent as a neo-caveman

(an ironic tribute)

do you remember summer days / Just after summer rain / When all the air was damp and warm / In the green of country / lanes? / And the breeze would touch your hair / Kiss your face and make you care / About your world / Your summer world / And we would count the evening stars / As the day grew dark / In Beechwood Park...

Do you remember golden days and golden summer sun / The sound of laughter in our ears / In the breeze as we would run?
/ And the breeze would touch your hair / Kiss your face and make you care / About your world / Your summer world / And we would count the evening stars / As the day grew dark / In Beechwood Park...

Oh roads in my mind / Take me back in my mind / And I can't forget you / Won't forget you / Won't forget those days / And Beechwood Park...

And the breeze would touch your hair / Kiss your face and make you care / About your world / Your summer world / And we would count the evening stars / As the day grew dark / In Beechwood Park...

Oh roads in my mind / Take me back in my mind / And I can't forget you / Won't forget you / Won't forget those days


and beechwood park...

cont...

i love boxie

to be

"oh i know the ones, they sit in front of coffee shops chain smoking while reading jean paul sarte."
- priceless petra

animals. all of them suburban kids compelled to come unleash their inner desires to appear homeless and disillusioned

going for brunch tomorrow in the 403. dearest and old friend

DISTANCE MAKES US WISE.

consider the intellectual merit in sustaining a bond.
derived from not a test, not a mark, a grade, a report, a series of words that front a thesis on the endurance of old company
in the absence of merlin's beard or einstein's theory of time relativity, continuity of meets, greets and coffee house conferences constitute wisdom of the heart
a binding insurance that physical detachment is disregardable to the mortality of affection