my brain is impotent - sorry

hi, did i tell you i went to Yosemite?, no i did not, why, because sometimes i'm a downer for climaxy stuff, no explanation needed but you probably know what i mean, i feel like writing now because of two things i did not see (but wished i saw), 1) a f*cking bear & 2) a falling star, it's not like i did not try, you see them when you see them - right?

i have a thing for "f" today - sorry.

and you probably agreed

and you probably agreed nostalgia bites, i said so and i probably invented that because i still smelled wildly of forest fires that wafted like incense and of pinecones that crackled in the campfire

but i burned myself before i became an ember at dawn, the romance in the ashes i clawed (and hated) because there is always a song about longing and never about love.

feverish, mutating and hating my bed

i have droopy eyes, it is halfway falling with a Dali toothpick-prong stand, there is surrealism behind this fold, i see glorious mountains with pine varieties at different elevations, in the morning the air oxidize my respiration, in the evening there are small fires that bombard me like sacrificial incense...

i am walking, walking and walking, with (a ghost of) you, with (a ghost of) myself, they are all the same...

the meadows are humbling, the rocks, the rivers and the grass each have a song, they seem to tell me something but i am often muddleheaded, maybe they want me to be lost longer, to be washed by too much light that i don't see the spot where beauty is the difference, i will find it, you will find it, in the meantime...

happy friday, i am here but i am not here

knock, knock, open your door, i want to sleep in your house, i am tired, i have sunken eyes and bloated eyebags, can you tell there are no pearls in my cornea?, save me a couch, a cot, a hammock or a cozy corner, i will lie like a dog and sleep like a bear, you don't have to offer your bed but if you want to feel me i will let you, you can trace the dry canyons of my wearisomeness, there is an oasis out there, maybe you can pump it or perform a rain dance - but it is there.

knock, knock, i like your garden too, do you have an apple tree in your backyard?, is it teeming with apples? i would like to sleep under an apple tree and not think of gravity, i wonder if worms feel safe inside an apple, maybe they are, i want to be that worm, please do not wake me.

when sweats and bullets have no fruition

i might not write for a while, nothing really worth writing, whoever says if you want to be a writer - write - is my sleeping muse, i had a rejection lately, he/she interpreted my piece as a sleeper, worse an underdone soap opera, i am subjecting his/her interpretation into my own interpretation and leaving my pride outside the editorial box, thank you i really needed that, i am floating on my sub par excellence, where is this frustration coming from?, i have no creative outlet lately, i stop painting because the class had ended and i am too lazy to pick up the paintbrush, i am a very restrained individual, have you ever been with one?, how did you put him/her back in the saddle of liberation?, shit i might post this dilemma on spy omegle and pitifully watch strangers disect my ass as an analytical subject, look, look, let's embrace this one, tlc, tlc, tlc, i hope i hope they approve my time off request because because i am going to the mountain, and i am going to crush this mountain of sorrow off my back, sigh, there, i am ok now, forget what i just said, erase - see you around.

I want your job

There is a battle going on beyond the trees. If you look closer, you may mistake the artillery smoke for a morning fog; if you can't distinguish the smoke then look at it as an optical illusion - i leave you up to it. There are bodies too, scenes of carnage, and not far behind is a makeshift tent where they do the amputation. I stumble upon this Civil War reenactment while walking at Huntington Beach Central Park. This is on a Labor Day weekend. It seems like people have something better to do than worry about the current job climate. Life goes on (indiscriminately) even on resilient times. We are 9.1% unemployment nationwide. Others have it bad, i know, and i'm not even going to attempt to complain about my own. It must be luck and persistence that i have one right now and i'm just thankful about it. Believe me i know how it feels to let and not to let my head down. Sometimes we don't really know what the deal is with life and that is worth knowing.

You will find me at a see-through door

If you read my blog, you probably had an earful of complaints about my sweltering spa-like room. It had given me headaches, sweats and countless twisting and turning of sleeplessness. Read no more for my room is having an upgrade: an aircondition, a ceiling insulation, and the best part - a sliding door that opens to the patio. I love this part of the backyard because this is where i sometimes read and paint. With the installation of the sliding French door, i will also have more light in my room. I should mention that this swank all comes with a price, not good on my pocket but i figure i can stretch my budget for this quiet and laidback space. I worked out a deal with the landlord and told him i will make a business plan and do some ad placement for his construction and remodelling business and he seemed ok with it, even telling me that he will give me a commission for every job that pushes through. Win-win, if this pans out, if not, then i sure have given it a try.