Space Heater

If I could capture every memory, every conversation, every half second glance of the most beautiful of beautifuls...I probably wouldn't. Isn't there something to be said about the sacredness of all of these moments? About the need for us to be open to them, to embrace them and, when the time is right, to let them go? I have the tendency to and am certainly guilty of trying to save every single tiny memory I can, down to old, worn out ticket stubs that aren't even legible anymore, just to have Something. I feel like if I throw these things away they will be lost from my memory forever. But what I think is the truth of the matter, is the fact that I don't want my story to be lost. I sometimes have this dream that someone will come looking for me one day. Not to find Me, but to learn my story. I don't even know that I will ever Have a story, but it's just something that has always stuck with me. That maybe, for some random reason, somebody..somewhere...will be looking. I am so intrigued when I open up old books and find old, smelly notes hidden within the pages. Thoughts carelessly scribbled on the back of a receipt, or even on the dusty, bound leaves themselves. I feel like I have fallen straight into the footprint of a complete stranger; holding the aging pages in the same way he or she did years before me. Many a Dollar and Peso have contributed to the collecting of these random souvenirs. And maybe one day, someday, some stranger will find mine. And maybe, just maybe, he or she will save it too.

Esperando La Última Ola

She caught me by surprise today. Things changed themselves a lot today. Today I moved me out...today. If you asked me, I'd say that I think it's about that time that everything starts to shift again. Like the Earth has layed stagnant for a long while and is now rolling over and stretching and moaning and finding a way to reposition herself. Things will be broken, others born, some will fall, others will stand for the first time ever, happy times will be had, losses will be..lost. It's the part of the wave that requires kicking and paddling and kicking and digging and digging, all in an effort to be a part of something great, or to ignite the fire from that tiny spark within, it's time to catch that wave. Today, right now, this is me kicking, this is me paddling, this is me working my way to my feet. I have no intentions of sitting this one out.

Mexico in Argentina

I made food for dozens of strangers today.

And though I am fully aware of our ephemeral relationship, it puts a smile on my face to know that...I might have put a smile on someone else's. Just for a moment...a brief, genuine, thank you for your efforts even though we don't know each other's names and probably never will...smile.

It's things like this that keep me awake, and make sleep more sound when I do finally get there. Thank you, strangers, for letting me feed you. We didn't have to share this day, but we did it anyway.

"You Don't Know Me By Name

....still dooon't"

Aw fuck it. Here I go again, draggin boots through the grass, trying to erase the memory of the shit I occasionally stomp through. Still stompin', still draggin', all the while learning-learning-moving.

I missed my bus last night. Holy shit man, can't afford to make these kinds of mistakes, or can I? I find, as I've found in the past, that there is always something to be learned from this mess. In all actuality, it's not a real mess, it's life. Shit happens, people trip up. Heaven knows I've got my share of scars to prove it. I can't sleep at night, but it's because I'm congested. My shoes are dirty, but it's because I can't stand still. Life down here is somethin' else. People are different, and we all still manage to find a connection. Work is different, but serves a purpose each morning. I wake up in a place that I'm now used to, that once was new, and I like it. We all crave familiarity. The only difference is that some of us have to work harder to find it. I'm working, I am. I fucking explore and I'm poor. I love you. I'll see you soon, I promise.

Papas Fritas con Vino

Aqui estoy...sola. Today I feel like most of the day was spent alone. Although in the company of others for a while, it's good to understand the necessity of solitude. Y yo necesito la soledad. I need the time to think, to gather my thoughts and just...be. You know? Do you know how to just Be? It's a hard thing to do. In fact, it's still something that I have yet to perfect. I know when I am doing it right though, and I know when I am not. Today though, today I am getting it right. Today I did the things I wanted to do, I went where I wanted to. Today my thoughts can find their home in my words. I find comfort in the simplicity of it all. And at times I am simply uncomfortable in knowing that I am not being true to myself. I miss my home immensly. Home, in the sense that things are in their right place. To me, this is the home that everyone craves; familiarity, a sense of self, a "place" to belong. I am unaware of what is to come in the next few days to...come. I do know that I will do my best to make it all my own. To..own it. I love you. Sleep well this evening. Buenas..

Wings and Teeth

(things to aspire to)

Earl Grey, why have you forsaken me?
Guess it's the same everywhere, you let it sit too long & it spoils.

Warm tea & jazz...blankets & thick socks, I do love a good Saturday night beside a fire. Waking up to the tap tap tap of rain against my window, the clock takes it's sweet time to focus in my vision. "It's almost eleven," it whispers. "Don't worry, you don't have to get up if you don't want to." Where's my star pillow? He/She is the best neck support a girl could ask for on a bed of dreams. (well...almost anyway)

Such a separation. A disconnect. I hope I land before my flight takes off. If not, I might never touch the ground again. Seventy one more days...and counting...and counting.

one complete, whole...half.

nights like tonight make way too much sense.
it sucks but it's true. i feel ridiculous.