The lack of sleep, again. Time helps or rather forces us to move on. I’m so tired now. My eyelids are hurting. Failure or success are separated by a thin line. How much time is required to be spent until something good comes out of all the effort? It could be considered wasted time if success is never achieved. What drives us now? Whatever happen to my brain? At least this year ends with a smile.
On a dark afternoon we went walking under the rain looking for an address in the middle of Brooklyn. The journey could have been simpler after a taxi ride, but we instead opted for the subway. It was such an ugly day for a gathering of young beautiful people. Sharing our food, playing scrabble or some dice game while background music flowed like water…. We hugged and kissed and we said good bye, wondering when will be the next time…….
The mountains of North Carolina changing colors in the middle of fall. Extraordinary people come and go. Failed again the test. Determination and stubbornness. A bit of stupidity. Intoxicated with an overdose of liquor like never before. Placebo is coming back to New York. Long distance call to my mother always feels good. Today my head has been spinning too fast it hurts. It’s time to wake up.
Role playing again, let’s pretend we’re grown ups, wearing tie and suit and looking sharp as a razor blade, being one and being no one among the thousands riding the subway to work and from work, sleepy faces and giant mugs filled with coffee.
Young or Old, it doesn’t matter, everybody is wore down. The dreams of a beach house or a Brooklyn apartment (no more rent) depends on the person, but dreams are plenty and those dreams are the reason for this daily scenes of endless commute, and millions of things to do a day just to get paid biweekly…. to someday have plenty of the leftover pennies to afford a dream. To make it real.
“Wireless networking, stock options, but all these fucks look the same”. Sometimes you become the thing you hate the most. I have become one of them. Cheers.
An apartment in my building burned down. Scary thought of a similar fate and lose the little we have. Looking for a better job I’d been feeling anxiety burns in my stomach. A stress related ulcer and dark spots in my eyes. Lack of sleep. But Jenny has been there supporting me with her unconditional love. It’s summer’s end….. just about time for a new beginning even though some things never change.
Away from New York City for three weeks was required after six years of not seeing a thousand people I adore unconditionally. I send them all my love.
That sound of heavy drops of rain can be soothing enough to open a gate to better dreams. But I finally woke up. Being rational in dreams kills their magic.
When I turned 33 we had a picnic with wine, food and an Alfred Hitchcock’s movie at the park. And even with the scary clouds, there was no rain that day.
I’d been trying so hard to achieve a particular goal but failed in every attempt. It’s supposed to be worth the effort but I don’t know what else to do. Frustration is overwhelming. Can’t give up easily but it’s not reasonable to keep it on a loop going nowhere. How else can I prove to myself and to others that my geek brain works?
The war on drugs has been lost from the beginning. There are always drug addicts that play the role in the economics: demanding it for consumption.
Good people have died in vain, even last week 10 anti-drugs policemen were massacred. There are thousands of people displaced living the outskirts of big cities. They live in poverty and their lands have been taken away by guerrillas or drug lords. Thousands have disappeared, kidnapped, executed.
Whenever somebody links Colombia to cocaine I feel uncomfortable. Because after so many years of this war on drugs, what I really despise are the consumers who keep the cash flowing to drug dealers and guerrillas that have been tearing apart Colombia for over 40 years.
And today is election day…. what’s your addiction?
So much time working like a mule. I’d been isolated from social life, somehow I used to be out there and now I am nowhere to be found, except at work or commuting on a train or riding my red bicycle. Opera at the Lincoln Center has so much history, we have to catch up. Family and friends visiting is always wonderful. I will pay back the honor after an overseas trip. I am more convinced than ever that Haruki Murakami is a genius. I have to make music, not to make a living but to feel alive. Almost done with another song.
Where’s the humanity inside a giant corporation? Maybe just in family pictures. In the drawings of somebody’s 4 year old daughter. In the hopes and dreams of a different future carefully hidden from common sight. In the small talk down the corridor. In the smile of the lady cleaning up the trash cans. In a text message from the one we love. But the giant corporation is a cold hearted beast, that swallows us all, and spits us up any time it pleases. I need to break free.