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

Dear Diary: Shitty Moment

Dear Diary,
I have no clue what the fuck I'm doing. The heat is unbearable. I don't know if I'm leaving or staying next year because I'm too lazy to get my shit together. I think I might have lost a friend. I think I might be making a new one. I'm exhausted. I just want to fast-forward, see ahead because this "in limbo" situation isn't doing it for me. I feel fat, lazy and useless all in one. This has not been a good day, or month, or year. And I should give myself a break because -HOURRAY!!- I've made it out in one piece. But holy fuck I feel shitty right now. I think I need a hug, and I don't even know where to get it from. 

Dear Diary: Grad Is Near, So Are The Tears

Dear Diary,

Graduation is this Friday. By the end of this week, the whole Grad-Preprom-Prom-Afterprom train will have gone by and I will be left free-relatively. I mean, most of these people I will most likely only see further in my life as acquaintances, silhouettes from a distant past. Most of these people will probably exist only for an instant in my consciousness until some climax in their lives (wedding, funeral, lottery win, unexpected pregnancy, ect) makes them subjects of interest again. It's not cruel, the same goes for me too. When the champagne stops flowing and the glitter stops falling and the tears have dried and the enthusiasm has settled, life will just keep on going with its comedies and tragedies and whatever it is that fills the gaps between both. So might just as well make the best of this I guess. In pure moronic adolescent fashion, I guess the correct term to define the sentiment of coming-of-age nonsense I'm constantly being fed by Hollywood, the correct term would be : YOLO.

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.

Saleté

Cendre noire sur neige blanche :
On crache sur ce qui est beau.
J'essuie le mirroir avec ma manche :
De la saleté, il y en a trop.
Je frotte, jusqu'à en avoir mal -
Même mon visage devient saleté.
Je crache dessus pour l'effacer,
Et le miroir redevient sale.
C'est un grand tourbillon vicieux,
Cruelle-réelle-réalité,
Ne plaît jamais aux yeux.
Comme quoi, l'obscurité - c'est mieux.

Folie

Perdue, apauvrie, amaigrie,
Elle marche seule sur le sentier.
Par ses malheurs poursuivie,
Elle continue sa randonnée.
Paranoiaque, elle se retourne :
Gauche, droite, avant, arrière, encore...
Sur elle-même elle tourne et tourne :
C'est la folie qui la dévore.
Sa seule amie, son compagnon,
Qui lui chuchote dans son sommeil,
Qui soutient la conversation -
Venin versé dans son oreille.

Boys!

I've decided, in my infinite greatness to make a list of guys that make me want to buy a vibrator behind my poor mother's back. That is a joke. I would never do that (or would I?). This list will be reserved to my first type of guy: the nerdy, the eccentric, the artsy... I don't really know how to describe it...think Jack Sparrow meets hippie Albert Einstein or something lol.

1. Ezra Miller. Oh sweet mother... Yeah I just started dabbling into his weird awesomeness and it's quite close to my ideal. Yeah. He's also super comfortable with his sexuality and has this kind of raspy voice which I totally love. We Need To Talk About Kevin and The Perks Of Being A Wallflower totally did it for me too. So yeah, bit fan right here :)

2. Dr Reid (Mathhew Gray Gubler). Criminal Minds just does it for me, it really does and though I have my favs (Garcia and Morgan), Spencer Reid would be the one I would pick as a boyfriend. He's just sooo cute and wow I feel like a prepubescent girl gushing over Justin Bieber but yeah. Go Geeky!!

3. Seth Cohen (Adam Brody). Jesus, The OC seems so far away yet the Planet Phantom theme song is still stuck in my head (Californiaaaa, Californiaaa, here we co-o-ommee). Plus, Seth/Adam was also on Gilmore Girls (playing Dave Rygalski)for a while, which was just another opportunity for me to feel sorry for myself for not finding someone like that who would want to be my friend. What can I say, I have a lot of time on my hands...

I've probably missed quite a few guys who kinda fit into this "type". Any ideas people??