Chan Chan

Chan Chan playing loudly

He held me --softly

A hint of rage as well

I could not be all he hoped

He was my Spanish sun

He had thought me beauty in silence

I ran to him a fatherless child

He stripped--my religiosity 

I wanted to connect the dots --

the ones on his body-- to see the

Before and after link

Lost snapshots in an ocean of un-wept tears

Curve of his lighted Camel

Tense elevator silence 

Unnecessary cordial conversation

Mounting climax to -- Nothing

The Aftermath confused me still

His tanned skin cut by the white starched sheets

Sounds of late night brawls, midnight kisses

Coming from out there

Sleep would not make me drop 

Into submission, street-lights and

His breathing were companions 

But sleep I could not

He left two days next

Summer had been planned

In the fall he would be arrogant still

A touch of whimsical-mysterious in his hair

I tried to hide it, as long as I could

It came out all colors -- orange, green, yellow

Things unsaid, left unexplored

Though it's a shame I could  not die and let go.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6JEdf7XsV5g

Alcool et amour

Un aimant devant moi, mais qu'un objet pour toi
Une autre bouteille parmis les autres, aucun appat.

Une seule gorgée apporte pourtant l'oubli et le bonheur
Des fausses promesses, cependant, irresistible leurre.

Mon cerveau soudainement brumeux
Des étoiles brillant dans mes yeux
Je veux danser, bouger, chanter,
Je veux oser, braver, aimer.

Serre moi dans tes bras trépides,
Remplace ma liberté liquide.
Et si tu pars, je reviendrai
A aimer cet objet abstrait.

Love: Conversation

I have something important to tell you.

What is it?

I can't tell you. I have to show you.

Show me what?

My tired heart.
My empty head.
My throbbing veins.
My aching pains.
My dying breaths.
My waiting love.
My loving eyes.

I don't understand.

I know.
I know.
That's why it's so hard to see you
come and go
knowing nothing
of the things I feel
the nights I held myself
cried myself into numbness
found a place to rest my head
and think to myself
how can I be so stupid?
They say Love is good
Love is everything.
How can this be my everything
when I just want to die
when you're here
and when you're not?

Discoveries: Slam Poetry

Poetry has always been a big deal to me. Growing up in my own personal dictatorship at home, it was my escape route to, you know... non shitty stuff. And so, I've recently taken interest in Slam poetry and boy oh boy am I having the best "night after failed math test" day of my life. I present thee with a few of my most promising findings. I've found my calling! (Apart from marrying Jon Snow from Game of Thrones of course).

This is how my road to Slam started today, thanks to Jezebel and Doug Barry. And though what Rachel Rostad may be flawed in some ways, as she mentions here, I think that she has a point. I'm tired of seeing "token" Black girls, token Asian girls, token Hispanic girls... I'm tired of over-simplified characters that I don't feel represent my voice. Maybe I should write my own stuff you say? Sure, but I think it's a valid point to bring up and no, its not being "over-sensitive" of causing "controversy" or whatnot. It's a valid point, because all these girls also use the media and read and see images and when those images don't reflect something that looks or feels even remotely the way you look and feel, you start asking questions. You think I'm crazy? When I was 8, I wanted to be white, thin, with blue eyes like that was the only thing that would solve all my problems. Now, that's crazy.

Kait Rokowski. Holy mother ****. You hit me straight in the gut. Like, wow. I've been down for a while now (parents' divorce, you know...happy times!) and I won't say "depressed" because I haven't had a formal diagnostic. But I've been down. Very low. Not wanting to breathe and live and all that jazz. So I feel so numb when I hear this poem. And, yeah. I've had an 11-year-old tell me "Well, depressed people don't like... have a problem, they're just like...really lazy and don't want to do anything". *HEAD EXPLODES* This girl is a neighbour, so I can't go screaming bloody murder but boy...that struck low. Anyhow, enjoy it!

This right here. I laughed sooo hard. Denice Frohman, ladies and gentleman. It's a hell of a piece and I'm glad I found it today. I've questioned my sexuality, even though my family isn't the best one for that sort of self-discovery... anyhow, back to the poem. It's brilliant. Just listen. SPOILER ALERT: the best part? "Dear straight people, you make me want to fucking rob you." Don't take the quote out of context. Just listen to what she has to say.

Only dude on this list but boy is Jear Singer a beast. Like, oohh boy. You took that literally, didn't you? I mean his skill to convey, in a funny way how he just wants to dance, and how he'll be mocked but he just wants to go out on the dance floor and leave his heart on it. And just the way he start. I won't spoil it for you. Do yourself a favor a see it yourself. If this isn't really your cup of tea, you can always listen to his ABC's.

Life: So Much Bullshit

After another unproductive day, and a few lighted cigarettes in my neighbourhood park, I took a steaming shower and sat my fat, unproductive ass in front of my beloved computer. There was little to do, apart from eyeing man-candy I could never have on Facebook and waiting for an episode of Nikita to load. So that got me thinking...how much nonsense could I find on the Internet in less than 15 minutes? As I soon found out, a lot. Nonsense about modesty and women looking for trouble aka asking for rape, men all being rapists, people with a darker derma being genetically inferior, all Chinese people being inherently rude, fat people not deserving of bathing suits or showing their faces in the real world. Like, wtf?? Is this seriously the world I'm living in? How depressing. How can so much bullshit just be laying out there. How did this happen!?!?!?!? Is this really how people think or am I just crazy to believe that equality is really, truly a thing?

I may not have all the answers but here's a little sunshine to make me feel better because, seriously I've had my load of Internet bullshit to last me a life time. I'm dumbfounded. I'm stunned. I'm...exhausted.

Life: Loafing Around and Faking Sick

Urgh. I'm the worst when I'm such an Idle Teen. Or I'm so good at being bad I'm a Teen Idle, as you see fit to describe me. All I know is that it's getting late, I haven't done my hair, or done my Spanish, or Italian, or Biology or Math, even though I had a long weekend thanks to a nicely faked fever. I did get some quality time with my Mom though, so I guess not all is lost.

The main reason I haven't done anything today is (I feel excuses are needed here):

Winter is coming (ok ok, let's not jinks it, winter is actually leaving, which is nice) and mother of God how I love myself some Game of Thrones. It's like, after Lord of the Rings, I thought nothing would ever get my nerd juices flowing, and then this happened. I must of watched the first 2 seasons in a week. And tonight, I wanted to watch Season 3 Episode 2 but I don't have HBO. (Yes, as it turns out, I'm only of those terrible bastards making this show the most pirated show like...ever). Anyhow, I'm a crush whore, so I'm in love with Jon Snow, Tyrion the Imp, Robb Starkk and his fater Ned Starkk at the same time. And don't even get me started on my girl crushes. 

Emilia Clarke aka Khaleesi...

And Maisie Williams aka Arya Starkk (recently got a nice haircut tooo)

And Sibil Kekilli aka Shae (Imp's babe)

And Oona Chaplin (yes that Chaplin and they're related too!!!) aka Talisa Maegyr the healer

And Rose Leslie the Wildling aka Ygritte my latest flame. 

Like seriously guys. I'm obsessed. Can you blame me?

Quotes

Welcome to the human race. Every day, somebody breaks somebody else's heart. - The Sessions

Life: Gilmore Girls Metaphor

         I am currently watching the 15th episode of the last season of Gilmore Girls. This show has been my best girlfriend in my recent fall in the pit hole of lazy loafing and procrastination to avoid responsibility and the mountain of emotional distress and homework I have to face. It is with great regret that I will attempt to finish the entire show before the end of March Break, simultaneously doing my homework and extra work. It will be like the end of a life chapter, the lost of a friend, the end of an era of "Ha! I know what she's talking about !" and "OMG, what is she thinking doing that!". The show may be boring and slow and uneventful and without interest for others, but to me the jokes and metaphors are like a breath of fresh air in my daily routine of coffee and cigarettes. One of the metaphors comes from Luke's sister Liz : "They're meant for each other, but it's like they're in different time continuums. All they have to do is find the right wormhole."
        That's how I feel about my current relationship. I know that I feel powerful things for him and when we make eye contact and he smiles and I smile (yes normally a human reaction in the face of familiarity and whatnot, but please don't belittle my teenage love feelings) and I feel warm in the inside, I truly believe he feels it too. Yes it may be wishful thinking but for the sake of this story keep the doubts to yourself, will you? My point is, I've known him (of his existence anyhow) for 6 years, and I know he's liked me before (got me a red rose for Valentine's once) and we've been on-and-off friends and I refuse to believe there isn't something there. It just feels right. And added bonus, our kids would have the best afro ever. But seriously, I really want it to work out and I really hope that we end up finding a wormhole because this being in two different time continuums is really fucking up my sleep patterns. Better this metaphor than the over-used "star crossed lovers" shit.

And may I add that if anything is to be said about Romeo and Juliet's trials and tribulations, it's that they handle the situation pretty badly.

French: Because I Can

il dit bonjour sans lever les yeux
et disparait rapidement dans une foule
de passants impatients qui ne remarquent pas
les lascérations de ma poitrine
ou les larmes qui se mêlent à l'eau de pluie

je rentre, meurtrie et anéantie 
par la seule personne qui ait jamais su 
me faire sourire comme une idiote qu'avec sa présence
qu'à présent je maudis prodigieusement

il n'a que connu la victime dévastée,
la pessimiste enrobée dans un cynisme obscur et fou
qui passait son temps à compter les gens
qui la laissaient pourrir dans son océan de larmes

s'il n'était pas parti si tôt
si je l'avais retenu en abandonnant 
mon masque de martyr incomprise
peut-être qu'il aurait trouvé autre chose enfoui 
danas les détritus nauséabonds de mon âme

peut-être que mon désespoir écrasant
aurait pu être alléger par une qualité qui m'est 
encore inconnue. mais les hypothèses 
d'un présent autre que celui qui est 
ne sont que des paroles vides de sens.

Alors qu'il s'échappe de mon monde empoisonner
je cherche refuge dans un lieu plus spatieux
où toute ma haine pourra brûler sans interruptions.

Life: Seduction 101

I seem to attract all the wrong people: either they're too young (and part of my family -- awkward) or too old (as in my same street neighbor (also very awkward). And I truly want the best for these people, and it's not even that my standards are high: I'm just not interested. My wish list isn't very long, and I've come to realize I am a sapiosexual : only attracted to peoples brains (I was going to be a Neurologist after all...). Anyhow, in the pursuit of a lovely boy Who-Does-Not-Know-My-Name (he does. he just never says it in a sexy way like in the movies) in France living his life and doing his thing, I'm here, poor little me, agonizing over his beautiful soul and blindness in regards to my awesomeness. And so, my friend L., wonderful teenage boy that he is, decided to give me a crash course in the art of getting a guy (any guy), to like me. Or marry me. If I ever choose to go down that road. And so...

*DRUM ROLL*

Seduction 101 was born.

Rule #1

Don't say "I love you"

I know you do. Good for you. Don't say it. Not before your 5th or 6th meeting/nightly encounter/date at the very least. Or he will run like a cheetah. Straight out of your arms. Imagine this: you are walking and a guy walks up to you and says, out of the blue "I love you". How do you feel? It doesn't matter. Your first reaction is to punch him in the face and run. See how this works? Exactly. (You should also be warned: saying "I truly and deeply appreciate your presence. Now, take your pants off and shut up" will have the same effect except coupled with a restraining order)

Rule #2

Distance is key. Not too close, not too far, like an egg toss. This is all about instincts baby. All about perception and your ability to adapt. Too close and he loses interest. He knows he has you in his pocket and his off to the next. Don't have that surprised look. It's simple human psychology. You'd probably do the same. Too far and he thinks you don't care aka he loses interest. You've moved on to better, greener places, and so will he. This is the hardest step, and yes, there will be failures. That's life. My advice? Sleeping is your best bet because (1) you get your beauty sleep, (2) you're not love-dead but (3) you're not awake to know of your misery. That makes for a perfect win-win-win.

Rule #3

Love is a game. All of this seduction stuff: it's all a game. The earlier you know this, the better. The right combination of buttons on your game controller makes for an instant bull's eye head shot and easy win. If you get killed on this battlefield, you lose. Easy as that. You should probably go practice with some Sonic, Mario or Zelda (COD for the true warriors, which I must admit I'm not).

Secret #1

This really surprised me. 

Looks don't count.

As in, as cheesy as this sounds, there is hope for all of us. Looks don't count when slaying vampires or zombies and don't inhibit your ability to have proper structure sentence instead of the infamous and always deadly "Hummmmmmmm". They don't count for your intelligence, your niceness, your ability to please. 

They can't stop you from player the game.

~o0o~***Challenge Accepted???***~o0o~

YES?                NO?

Sunrise Is Near

sunrise is near

and yet my eyes not once have shut

for my mind to empty

for my heart to take pause

in its cruel aching

we never reached the zenith

never once held each other

as lovers do 

never brushed away 

tears and nightmares 

small instants of glee

glimpses of magic 

are mine to dwell upon

as the moon withdraws

hands held in a crowd

heat rising, bubbling when 

face to face and stares 

ripping through my soul

moments of intense passion

which the cold wind of denial

or negligence smothered thoroughly

my heart a pound of flesh

now a ton of eroded stone

will beat no more
will beat no more 

Dear Diary: You Had Me

We looked into each other's eyes. How you found your way to me, in the dark corner, is still a mystery. You entered the room and made your way to me, eyes on the prize. I think I was the prize, I'm not really sure. Maybe I was just your best bet for an actual conversation, and not just a night of nonsensical slurring gibberish. At long last, you arrived in front of me. You had me at "Hello"...not really. 

You never had me at all. To have me, you would actually have to say "Hello". You never said "Hello" or any other words of greeting, or any words at all. All I get from you are those stares, those eyes that follow me all the way home and still make my skin crawl, my body get warm, my stomach tingle and my heart drop in anticipation. In anticipation of what, I know not, since I've waited many years and it seems more  years of vain impatience are to come. 

I need something from you and I have no idea what it is. Some validation that I haven't simply built this whole relationship in my head, I guess. I wanted to make sure today. I wanted to talk. That didn't happen. You only come ever so often (never), and I just wanted a word. Something. Time ticked away, making me a little later for the next class because my whole being was hungry for a sign. And that's when I realized I was among a bunch of these girls, just waiting to lay themselves at your feet. I was never going to through myself in your arms, that was a given. 

However, I was the last fan to leave.

Bus Ride with Dreadlocks

Dreadlocks on a blond head,

Pearly whites in a dark face,

Intertwined hands and a laugh that goes on for miles and miles...

It's funny. Everytime I see an interracial couple, it makes me smile. It's almost like I feel there isn't enough of them out there. I mean, mixed kids are A-DO-RA-BLE... so keep making those kids people!!

I saw this guy on the bus, one late night. I thought he was super cute, I don't know... People think blond hair in dreadlocks looks dirty, but to me it has this weird appeal...what my English teacher would call the "Australian Savage" look. But I mean the story ends there. Cute guy on the bus, one night, and I'll most likely never see him again. Except the world has this twisted way of mocking me by proving me oh-so-very-wrong.

Weeks later, I see the same guy again, on the bus. With what appears to be his wife/girlfriend. And their kid. This beautiful little baby girl and in my head the wedding bells I had imagined crash and burn. But I start looking at them. Like, really looking. They smile. And hold hands. And this woman's laugh is loud. They're cute, but not in an overbearing way. In the way of people that actually want to spend time together. (Yes, I know, I'm kind of a hopeless romantic at heart).

And then, I have three revelations:

#1 - My boyfriend-ish never holds my hand like that. I mean, we're young and I don't expect any wedding bells, EVER (he's atheist), but I mean I've never received that kind of love from anyone other than my turtle.
And yes, my bf-ish is allowed to be his "no hug, no kisses" kind of guy, but like... I have needs, you know??!??

#2 - When this guy is going to have to find himself a "real" job, those dreads are going to come right off. And wherever I am that day, I will feel all those "Australian Savage" style locks fall to the ground, and I will weep.

#3 - If I see this guy again, I promise I'll tell him to take care of that little girl and love her the way he did that day on the bus. Because going through several dads is no joke. Actually, it's emotionally draining. And even though he doesn't know me and I don't know him and nothing is ever going to happen between us, I just feel like I have to tell him. Because it's those little moments in public transportation that no one else remember that I deem important enough to make happen anyway.