tfacemillionaire

Geez, I miss you. I have been saying this to myself or rather you for so long now. I've lost count of how many three worded sentences ive uttered that include the words I, MISS, and YOU, since you've been away from me or you from me. I know that switching the order of things doesnt seem that important but i told you once, that its hard to really know what i mean, so i try to be as clear as i can be always. I'm sad that you werent here to embrace this autumn. not even with me but you missed a beautiful fall last year, and i remember the days, and the nights. and the evenings, and the moon and the stars. I remember getting absolutely ripped on a busride home and writing you a beautiful letter that i cant seem to remember by heart now. all these letters, i left with you, the rough drafts, the drafts, the scribbles, the serenades, the excessive use of alliteration and simile to metaphor and all this nerd shit you would have loved to drown in. but i do miss you, and theres no one else i can tell but you, and i cant tell our peers, and friends this because they are still here, because i can tell them 'i love you' so ive decided to eternally etch my mourning, wanting self on the interwebs. i saw your email online one day, and became suspicious and asked who it was with no response. you truly had a caring heart because through all our ups and downs and turnarounds, you never avoided me, never mad me feel unwanted, or hated, rather supportive in all the wrong places. maybe i wasnt ready. im sure you know that i have never stepped inside a church for emotional or spiritual reasons but the day you left, i couldnt find comfort anywhere, i'm sure you would have loved the scene of the young asian male walking to the local church with tears running down his cheeks, rocking the baddest to the boniest leather jackets you have ever seen. one would have thought i probably lost my ps3 or my wii broke. but no, you left all too soon. and everyday i ask and ponder, is she really gone? are you gone, everything you accumulated in your existence is gone. tracy, this is just like the last line of pan's labyrinth, except you can be found everywhere i look. i see you everywhere and it hurts. i still miss you. theres going to be a meteor shower tonight, i hope you can make it. everything ive ever told you is the most honest i can ever be at the present time.

5 places to to bring the one you love

1. in front of you

2. home

3. in your heart

4. still trying to figure this one out?

5.?


three things i should say more often

thank you
i love you
i forgive you

these few words you read, are not teachings of a christian or buddhist faith, or any teachings in that matter. the significance of these words these words transcend religion and language but reach higher belief of humankind acting often as the cohesive force for all humans. to love fully and experience the fragility of life takes practice, personal experience, and patience. these qualities are some that i feel that i have been able to exude lately. i have become sad that i learned these things now rather than sooner. i ve known these words for sometime and ive been selective and stingy with its uses, but i am beginning to blow the dust of that box in the attic, and opening it to remind me that love is free. as it should be in every human being. to those i havent told you these things, im sorry,
to those, know that these feelings are true, the dam that is my heart has cracked, and has gently freed the water that is my love to you all. i thank you for every moment i am on this earth and will continue to cherish her and all of her children. i forgive you to walk freely, and enjoy in this, and each day you all have before you.
wow do i love metaphors.

prayer is beautiful thing too, i am not a christian, nor have i ever prayed in my life. but break it down and tell me exactly what it is. it is talking or speaking to a noun (person, place, or thing.) death is the everlasting ending to the story of life, but lately ive been praying to whoever will hear me, ones i know will always listen, and comfort me in my time of need. nothing beats the present, but the power of prayer helps.


the present is a present.

may peace be with you. live long and prosper.

how i miss thee

this is my first september in 16 years without formal education. now i guess, its informal education, something ive been doing half of the time i was in school. its kind of learning the things you really dont need to know but maybe it will be useful in the future. trivial things. but i miss it, the counting down of the days, the buying school supplies that youll never ever use, the packing lunches, packing bags and the looking fo'ward to seeing old faces after a long and stress free summer. but all that is gone to me, and to my colleagues who now must deal just as our predecessors , our upperclassmen have had to deal with, the job market, the ever growing loom of compounded interest as our loan payments are due the first of last of every month and we continue to create invisible shackles for ourselves. interest my friends is a very interesting beast.
since school has been out, i cant say ive been learning too much but i have in my own opinion, have started to enjoy life more fully and have put some things aside such as finding a source of income, and job security. i need to go buy some kites and fly them.

taco river

never will i have the opportunity to describe the pain i have suffered in the past 48 hours. this weekend i spent my time along the saco river in maine. mosquitos are the bane of my existence. i figure they too need some way to survive so they feed on humans, mainly massholes, who litter and become obnoxious as each passing beer is digested into their bodies. bad things happen for many reasons but one reason is that one learns from the experience. imagine an army of mosquitos sought to destroy solely you, and they know just exactly which places on your body will be annoying. these mosquitos arent your average run of the mill mosquito, they are country hicks, strong, husky and relentless. their proboscis' remind me of microscopic daggers which burn and make the toughest man writhe before they mellow. i am tired, due to the lack of sleep and blood. saco 09. dump em out or else.

ready

last night was probably the first night in months that ive driven home not high, tell that to your state trooper buddies.

berkeley, ca

i took not one picture in berkeley, california.
not one picture of the gargantuan trees.
not one picture of the beautiful flowers, monster buildings, fire weed, fiery mountains of glass.

telegraph, shattuck, college.
bomb diggitty eats. homies left and right.
13 in san jose. owned but its ok.

trees, sweet trees, man.
infinite places to sit, to smoke, to think.
infinite corners to hide in, to watch.
millions of steps upon stairs, under stars.

why the hell do i resort to wannabe haikus?
because there is no other way to tell you about,
6 lane highways, vietnamese ethnic enclaves, coffee shoppes.
the baddest motherfucking airport in the world, walking on the tarmac,
onto a pseudo-private jet to some unknown destination.

the beaches, the bitches, the fast rides,
and the slow ones too.

shit how i miss you california.

going going to cali cali

as i approach the last hours that i will spend in southern california, i reflect on the wildest experience ive had without the influence of drugs or alcohol.
the people, the lifestyle, the little subtle details that makes me who i am and the family that helped raise me. this is the ground my mother trampled on years ago when she first had to live on her own at a tender age of 18. this is where she lived in absolute poverty, where she first began to live, where she grew and flourished. this in essence is my land too. california is gorgeous, from the women to the one freeways that take you past countless mountains. i can't even begin to imagine any place on earth as diverse and vast as california.
the family i have here are amazing too. some i dont even know, some i barely have brushed shoulders with but the warmth and hospitality is there. i dont have a conventional family and for that i love. i have uncles that arent really uncles, cousins that arent really cousins, and great aunts and uncles who are really great aunts uncles. hilarious chinese-vietnamese folk who love talking shit. i guess thats where i get it from.
i have to say, i love california, but without the family that i have here, it would be worthless.
tomorrow i leave them, for the north. to the bay.
in search of.
eye protein.
12 lbs of luggage. 3 unfinished packs of cigarettes i keep buying to drink with my coffee. cement hardened fists. and a sore ass.

certified

consider me certified snitches.
servsafe food safety certified. that means i can go lingering around the bottom of the food chain that is the labor market in america with a bachelors degree and a servsafe certification. i wonder where i can make bank. i need to cater, in the literal sense to rich white people. manage a kitchen that serves rich international people. i have no idea. ill work anywhere i can and ive set my deadline to march 1st. in order to begin saving for my next excursion.

it's settled. i want to go back to europe. i dont care if i have to sleep in the streets. i will have packed a blanket. the time in which i go will be warm. ive become a fan of efficient transit systems and century old cultural processes that have sharpened the by products that we see as cities today. i've fallen in love with the worn sidewalks and used and abused infrastructure. the clash of faiths. the nights filled with alcohol and deprived of sweet sweet sleep. i need to return to paris. find my way through CDG and somehow butcher the french language as i attempt to live a day, a week the parisian way. maybe spend a couple euro on some random excursions on the metro. with a camera in hand. by random i mean carrying dice with me and rolling them to see what stop line i get on and what number of stop i get off. i might hit residential, i might hit ghetto, i might just find the greatest picture opportunity or get robbed. fuck it you cant take it with you.


i need to go back to ams, to smoke a joint, to sit and drink a cafe with a new friend ive met. to see the world in a different light. maybe pick up a prostitute if she is deity hot. like radiant beauty from a goddess only blessed to those who have been given the gift of super sight. buy tons of paraphernalia and give custom officers the stoic face i always use when addressing individuals of 'perceived' authority. smoke a shit load of blonde hash eat mushrooms until i through up into the dykes and onto dikes who wanna fight me. stay around long enough to have bought an ounce and smoke it too. maybe buy a stolen bike from the donkey bridge. weave my way through every stretch of pavement offered by the centrum.

the things i love...

i love the moon, staring at you when you have no one else to look at
a summer wind caressing every curve of your body, upon a gleaming body of water,
glistening every ray of light it touches, moving so effortlessly.

a cigarette, after hours of tough loving work, a coke,
seeing a child's face brighten, the people walking by,
a smile, a laugh, a kiss. the sun setting or rising.

a beautiful jazz rip from miles davis, the shade of the trees,
a cold boston night, knowing anywhere than where i'm standing will be warmer.
a beer, some wine, a joint, poisons i've picked.

whispers, laughter, people.
the occasional conversation with a complete stranger.
the wisdom of my mother.

some steps to sit on, a venue to watch humanity,
to read a book, to engage in civilization,
to be wrong, to be right, to be human.