"Lets forget when forget what forget how...Let's pretend we don't exist...let's pretend...."

Been thinking about returning to my beloved Brooklyn for the annual Mermaid Parade @ Coney Island this summer. Almost moved there last year into some art loft if only Christina had managed to talk me into it...but i was so wasted after that weird-ass hipster party in Williamsburg that i couldn't think straight...dancing among the drug-addled scenesters in an abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn...i stuck to drinking Stella Artois..nothing up my nose for me thanks or up my arm either for that matter...plus i was too wired from that killer Sonic Youth show @ McCarren Pool earlier that day....sold-out show got in due to another fan re-selling me his extra ticket...best natural high ever...Thurston Moore slayed the shit out of that guitar....The Slits opened up for them. Yael Korat and i were bouncing around like group-home kids hopped up on Adderall..!

"I could leave this agony behind which is just what I'd do....

Pints of black gold, pub filled to the brim, singing songs with arms over others' shoulders, the memories almost seem dim....

i clink glasses of Guinness with newfound friends
only to have the pint glass crack apart
like an Easter egg.

There was no malice involved, but staring at it in an inebriated state
it served to remind me that after all this time
my heart is still a broken light bulb,
the filament long gone out.....

someone just asked me tonight almost mockingly if i ever felt lonely, but the naked truth was that i feel as though i am surrounded by mediocre people
 that give life that shitty sour milk smell...

the kind that you wanna throw out but it still lingers
heavily in the air regardless of how many time zones
you can cross over.

so no, i am not aching for companionship from certain individuals...but rather feeling stretched rice-paper thin and time-worn from tap-dancing for these idiots with their eggshell personality conflicts and hyper-sensitive modus operandi....

whenever i hear these chords..my eyes close and my lips open softly and silently to form these words...so goes my heart into my mouth....

and it becomes something else until the end of the tune....

until the heart i am left holding
is a jagged arrowhead of a thing
with the veins spreading out in crystal spidery threads
wondering why i am the way that i am

and that this song almost murders me thinking of Irish films, Czech women, and Cambridge, Massachusetts things...

"..between the click of the lights...is the start of a dream.."

i opened my eyes today.

they have been shut for so long, who knows what i could have seen inside of a year in Asia?

Contract renewal , visa woes, student debt leaves me bereft without wine, woman, and song....

so i reach down inside and drink deep from where i once was.

i still remember the cold, clear taste.
sharp as the night air stinging my eyes.

i left Ori Station and two friends who were departing too recently for unfamiliar shores. i wish them well with their wedding plans and i am astonished that i knew them so briefly in the Great Golden Handcuffs...

a sense of purpose eludes me with fragmented personality, whiskey sours in the wee hours of the morning, missing Massachusetts and loved ones aplenty. foklore aside i have not finished this very protagonist's tale. i stumble and bumble my way through ill-conceived plans and waking dreams..

for what once was clear as pale moonlight
has become polluted
as smog-smothered stars 'neath U.S. occupied territories.

methinks a change best be in order to
circumnavigate these treacherous waters
and black sails in the sunset.

When my ship finaly comes into its port of calling
we will know whether the worth of the journey
was made in earnest or not...

drunken lullabies notwithstanding,
hear me sigh unto angels
and beer bottles to ring in some cautious rebirth
of where i should be standing in two summers time.

Once again the adventure begins!!

.....i am waiting i am....

i am feeling Minnesota right now.

wet socks, New Years kisses, crabmeat dip and dirty dishes, the wind rushes through his thistle of a beard, cockle burrs and dandelions aplenty....one kiss is too many, don't believe in superstition, but believing in myself lately is aiming the gunshot barely missing, we've taken a lot of lumps in the last year, i am limping on a sprained ankle and a calloused heart into the next year....

heated floors, dance moves, slip-on shoes. Korean saunas, yet somehow i still lose...out on the aesthetic of the moment. what does it take to get out me out of this dark funk? with thoughts like spiders crawling inside this head of mine, a steam trunk design full of dust-covered memories...

a foreigner for real on the dirty streets of Seoul, walking with Björk look-a-likes, but can never find a copy of himself, a true kindred spirit in the form of a female Doppelgänger , Ich kommt aus Berlin to my China Wall all the way to New York i could hear her breathing...

it almost all but destroys me, with the wind cutting in like a knife to my flesh, i am at a loss for words walking across pools of waters having flown over multiple time zones just to get here, to get back to the business of being myself instead of masquerading in Massachusetts as the ghost of someone else....

a bard sings "The Ballad of John Tulloch" deep into the inky frigid darkness, i suck in the night air. it tastes cool and sweet. i suck it in through my teeth and exhale it through my eyes somehow, thinking of loved ones and meaningful songs that could take this aching misunderstanding away from me...gnawing into my bones like some sort of cancer.....


i left a behind a culture of fear.


a country that held no place for me.


no identity.


colonialism and conquistadores, the immortal Joe Strummer and i singing mestizo love songs through the giant clusterfuck that is Christmas and New Years.






maybe this year will be better than the last.....

"....its not me, its you...."

no but really...


South Florida has proved obnoxious in its reliability to be somewhere i can extol the virtues of being unproductive.


not much anything got accomplished.

i can only begin the blame with myself. i could never fault Carlos with these things....


Late night TV movies, lack of sensible haircuts, i don't even know what I am gonna do now. Sweat descends upon every tooth in my mouth, anxiety-ridden bedspreads and regrettable strawberry daiquiris. Forgotten mixtapes filed away in my mind play out loud whenever they choose to. its like some sort of suffocating heartbreak because there never is enough time to just enjoy the music.

this soundtrack of life passes like the thief in the night. days bleed into the next with dried blood on the hilt of the blade. The knife twists ever so slowly until i am covered in unfeeling oblivion...

Frantic excursions, passports, foreign airports, language immersion...am i really going to put myself through this again? the xenophobia, culture clash, only time will tell if it will all pass. for i keep living in the past fucking the future....






but it makes much more sense to live in the present tense.

A anti-climatic Exit from Massachusetts....

...here is to hoping that my departure from the North Shore will not be something of mere nonchalance.


Heavy calloused hearts and light maple syrup to color my recent tragedy. Bipolar nonsense within the start of an engine.

it makes no difference i keep telling myself.

This sort of thing was inevitable as i pack my meager belongings in some Dickensian fashion. feeling all the while faint and transparent from the gravity of the situation....

My life has been much like a dime store novel. the protagonist well-meaning, but most often if not. woefully misunderstood and misconstrued.

What will become of him?


there are no likely scenarios at this point. i intend to hurl myself into the Great Wide Open and i hope to garner some great kernel of truth from it. it has been a Mestizo Love Story from the outset. my love for things greater than myself and my awkwardness in expressing that to others....

for i am a migrant worker. intending to embark on some misadventure with a Kerouac-like conscience and a fatalism borne out of being an individual thorn.

wherever i will go i will practice personal politics and oral story-telling to stave off the mundane....

 well-needed infusion of fantasy. i will continue to pine for my vinyl record collection. and i will always miss people more than places....

"And we go through many changes Then all I really know..Is that I truly am".

June 15th, 2006:

Summer comes and i let the winds carry us through the ages. Chinese festivals, Hong Kong harbors, and Dragon Boat races on the River Charles.

Oh how i love that dirty water!

Peter Wolf said it best when the Boss took to the stage at Fenway years ago. And then Yawkey Way was never the same for me when i leapt onto a table in Incheon in sheer disbelief. Korea concluded and i came back to Cambridge after an exile and a half.

I missed the sights and sounds of my soundtrack to Asia provoking a sojourn the width of a heart unknown and the height of a desire unfulfilled. Odaiko drumming and Japanese wishes continue to haunt me with gray ghosts and beer-soaked mysteries. saddened silver moons and forgotten rainbows. double shots of whiskey and random prose on inspired nights to keep me alive through the mundane insanity.

singing songs of astonishing beauty. slurred speech capable of mincing words and reminiscing regret. love of travel i will never forget. A muse wearing silk kimonos and sake cups in my hands. Ethereal countrysides that are far and away distant lands.

I would swear I could keep hearing Shane McGowan singing drunken lullabies unto me and that once again I could cross dark waters across the Pacific for want of more…...Something to the effect of adventure and personal glory. as if that even exists anymore. I will have to settle for my favorite bards from Seattle. poetry and passion aside. i long for the simple aesthetics. seeing her face as we slept seven years waiting and i finally let go of her memory.

today I was told that they were going to Kristina’s grave… i remember her eyes and her hair skimming my line of sight. for her a song of sadness will be told into time lest she be cast aside.


sleepless insomnia in Salem and I already dreamt of those Dragon Boats and bridges time immemorial. For I went through many changes and summer is here...




....Then all I really know is that I truly am