Sao Paulo. Te Amo.

Sao Paulo

Ode to Sampa,
A city of bright lights filled with smiles - just sits there living, breathing. It inhales the daily sun while expelling the nightly fog. A monotonous swing of endless consumption creates literal rivers of smog. Debris of everyday living of people passing by gets winded away into the clogged waters of what once was a beautiful river. The division of worlds is obvious. Rich and poor. And mixed. A people so mixed with ancestry, with history, with conquer - so different, unique, and the same. The sharing of passion and adoration for a city that makes itself their home. Streets are painted with art. Trees dominate the vivacity of colors. Tall giants of the corporate world rule the skies with their presence. Followed by the bluest sky of a different kind. A blue with brown but all the same, its ours. This city is ours.

Saudades

Saudades is a particular word that Brazilians use to describe the action verb of missing someone, something. It is a word that doesn't exist in any other language but in portuguese. It describes a feeling so deep and strong that a mere word isn't enough. It is beyond an idea, beyond an equation, beyond any other understanding besides what it is. It is love. It is knowledge. It is a presence that satisfies a need. It's a custom. It's food. It's a type of laughter. It is the sea. It is the people. The language. The music. Nature. Rhythms of earth. Of smells, taste, sounds, textures, sights. It's my home. I will leave this home soon and with me it will go to the unknown. This sense of saudades will follow me in a lifetime of journeys across the universe.

I miss so many things in my life. I am suppose to be use to moving around all the time. Obviously I am thankful for all the opportunities I have had in life traveling. But the one thing I don't like about my life as a nomad, is leaving all the people that I love behind; every time that I move. It's a feeling that eventually hurts and doesn't subside. I miss people. I miss my friends. My family. My life in every place that I have set foot in. I miss laughing in a different language. I miss driving on the opposite side of the street. I miss spices with foods. I miss the highs of legality. I miss the quality of good beer. The savory smells of grapes in wine. I miss the movement of dances in cultures. The burning of fires in nature. The festivities under moonlight. Everything that has made my life complete, I miss. Although I have to admit, I have had a pretty fucking good life so far and I am dying to experience much much more.

No Moderation

A spiritual journey is needed at this time. And it must be done. To save oneself from the sanity that reality incorporates, one must give in to a transcendental space of dream. Of imagination tinted with the aid of geometry, I volunteer for this spiritual gathering of my soul.
I will connect, I will direct, I will consume, devour, savour, and love what I shall do. For I and this energy will be one.
Begins... soon.

voyage

so im tripping on something. something. something. what a word something. and nothing means a lot and something too. but nothing feels lonely in its nothing world. it could be bored but it has its nothing friends to play with. play. i wanna play. with pudding and water balloons and rose petals. but only petals because thorns hurt. and no one wants to hurt. we just want to play with petals and pudding and balloons. to smoke or not to smoke. that is the question. i left reality a message once i stepped out the door. i hope it reads it. but ill be back soon anyway. its like i went to buy milk and then came back and reality didnt read the note yet. im going to smoke. i settled it. its my decision. its a new day and something is happening in the nothing. does that mean nothing is turning into something? wow. what a thing. this journey would be funner with people. but i have words just like nothing has its nothingness. oglog. hog. dog. hi. low. up. down. down and about in the wheel of a spout and it turns when it likes just like bicycle tracks. woop woop. dop doll. so next on the agenda is to make it squirl. SWUIL. swwet. sweet. doce. dulces. tchalk. talk. and then it went inside out and upside down till it couldnt roll around.

Bullshit

The minute I thought that my bad karma was gone, it comes back full throttle.
I welcomed this year with open arms and a good attitude. I couldn't have asked for a better beginning. It just seems that life has a funny way of showing that it cares. With all the shit that has happened, I have lost faith in the goodness of life. Maybe just temporary faith. I also don't know if I believe in Karma anymore. Mainly because I honestly try to do good in my life and to others and yet, it doesn't come back to me at all. So does this mean that I have to give up on believing? I feel like I have become a better person, but life doesn't think that of me. I don't want to victimize myself (too late), but I am getting my ass handed to me and I just want to know why. Why does all this shit happen to just me? Why do I deserve it? And what did I do wrong? Give me a sign and maybe things will be okay. Give me a sign proving that I can believe in something better and that life isn't just a box of shits.

I am walking the path of a lost one in life.

I venture out into the world alone in this quest to quench my thirst for more.
Despite being independently aware of my capabilities as a loner, I walk along this path with my only companions: the sun and my destiny.
So in many moments of my day-to-day I find myself contemplating where my body would go as compared to where my mind should rest.
I am a nomad at heart, and wherever this world may take me, I will kindly accept its hand in journey.


Anyway, I love writing in Spanish when the moment inspires me. So here is something I wrote not too long ago that captions my thoughts on the previous blurb.

Me dejare llevar
Al final del todo.
A la carretera
Perdida en el momento.
Con el sol y el destino - companeros.
Me voy.
Luchando contra el tiempo
Peleando contra el olvido
Me voy.
Dejo mi cuerpo.
Llevo mi mente.
Ya estoy.

Loss

My very first great loss as an artistic came at the end of 2009. A year, I might add, that did wonders for me in the negative aspects of life. So as it is, 2009 ended badly. I lost about 13,000 files from my computer to a dumb mistake that I had allowed myself to make. Files containing approximately 10 years worth of work. Short stories, poetry, essays, chapters to a book I was writing and about 8,000 photographs containing years of endless memories. Needless to say, I lost everything I, as a writer, ever wrote. Perhaps a lot of people may not see this as such a great loss. But when someone who is steering their lives towards words, it was the biggest digital death of my life. With despair, anger and sadness, my busy mind was at work. The following piece of poetry, I guess you can call it that, comes from the following days of mourning.


Mourning the loss of words and images,
Yet sounds remain the same.
Perhaps this loss will stir a refuge,
A home, a dream - in vain.

A chaotically written past stands
Pure in a memory so strange
And forward must remain
As a new chance for change.