Monthly Archives: January 2010

Colt 45 and Two Zigzags

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Last night I planned a romantic evening with a certain special someone to watch Mars and the moon in full bloom. My date ended up cancelling and favored mimosas instead. The only romantic gesture or even a hint of interest she conveys, is falling asleep to me voice on the phone. I’m a romantic and that was and always has been romantic to me, however, I can no longer deferenciate that gesture from her sleeping with a nightlight on.

It saddens me, but I’m no fool, I just play one on tv. I can see her distancing herself, and my natural response is to fight for the ones I love. Its no fun playing by yourself though. If she truly wants me, then she has to start. Her words have lost meaning, and I can’t feel the warmth. In fact, my feelings for anything are becoming scarce. Vultures circle above me and hope isn’t warranted anymore. Chasing a hurricane, wasn’t an exciting adventure anymore, and it’s already dissipated into a tropical storm.

I was never afraid of being alone, ive been training my entire life. I was afraid of losing feelings for the joys in my life, she had become everything to me. But that girl is slipping as she becomes somebody that I used to know.

I now have a publisher for my book, and I also begin filming a short movie about despair in which I will play the lead. I made a thousand friends last night, and just as easily lost a thousand friends. I care very little about those who come and go, but I will care beyond sunrises about those who’ve hung onto me. The honestly despicable, the brutish idiots, the friends in my life.

(Btw, I enjoyed free colt 45’s and that charming colored girl who sang to me.)

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What’s the interest rate?

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“I love you with all my heart.” That’s one hundred percent according to my calculations. But what others do not know will not hurt them right? Wrong. I know. I feel the pain for them.

yes we can waste more time conjuring solutions to our dilemmas, but conjuring never solved a single thing. It takes action, and grit, otherwise, you’re filled with hot air like those balloons. And I don’t like heights, so I’ll stay on the earthly ground.

Bubbles and confetti once surrounded us all, it brought us higher and higher, but will result in a fall.

I met with a publisher whom I’ve had two meetings with, and she likes the theme of my novel and what ive written so far. Who would’ve thought my debilitating heartache could become profitable? But that’s the thing though, I gave mine away and never got it back, its hollow inside my chest and I’m filling it with warm whiskey and work.

I don’t know where my mind is going these days, but I sure do miss it sometimes.

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Empirical Validity

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We all have the ability to break a person down mentally. We can drive a person into a corner and animal instincts take over. Even a fox will chew his own leg off if caught in a trap.

Its not even hard to do, you build them up, then take them down like the Roman empire. We all feel like Caesar when we’re up don’t we? But the fall itself will put a traffic jam in the river Styx. How demented and ruthless we are.

My quiet eyes absorb the beauty in the world as much as it absorbs the putrid. My mind works with my mouth and hands to regurgitated it. Somehow I manage to find even ground and avoid insanity once more tonight. We face reality so we drink to make it pretty as observers. But sometimes we drink too much and become just as defiled.

Yet all hope is not lost, there are some of us born human and raised with passion and in turn, tidy up as much as we can on our planet. Our world. Our domain. We do it all in our owns ways as if to contribute our own colors in this painting we call life. Bless those resilient souls, for, without them, this reality would wither. Say hi to a new face and hold an elevator for someone, we can all go up together.

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The hand Inside the Puppet

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It is said that without duty, the world would be a verydark place. There are those who are run by passion, and there are those who run in subordination below others. Both have duties but both have different plights. Which are you?

I had fallen into contentful submission against a higher power. My plight and motive were synonomous and fall into one of the five basic human emotions. I didn’t get to where I stand by obeying all five. Methodically utilizing several at a time and sparringly omitting others.

The big question, or I should say statement is; it being human means there’s always chance of errors. Too much or too little passion injected into these five curses will always result in unsavory situations. Getting out of that funnel, more often than not requires something as simple as hope. However, hope, walks hand in hand with despair as a consequence. In theory, walking with hope and your head held high in anticipation means despair is your companion.

Sometimes I wish my mind was as dull as a spoon, but intellect is a companion of doubt. Knowing everything allows you to know and acknowledge the bad as well. Ignorance, however, is a companion of bliss, and makes me wish I was as dull as a spoon.

But without our sense of duty in living the way we do with what we’ve been given, means a heavy disservice to our existence. You’ve been dealt these specific cards, now play the game, and play to win. But remember, everyone loses.

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Songs For Lovers

How’s about you tell it to me straight, i like to read but i don’t understand your language.

I wrote Cold Kisses when i came back from Chicago. I couldn’t make it sound right until today

your city smelled like stale cigarettes
he walked with obvious timidness
but you cradled him, as soon as he arrived
in the airport terminal this time
he drowned his eyes in ingenious skyscrapers
while you tighly held his hands
protected him, nurtured him
careful not to expose your clever plans
cheep wine and late night discussions
occupied the night
he was engulfed in your convincing affection

his heart believing it had finally found the light
you had his heart clouded from vision
bribed it’s beating logic
you satisfied yourself and
demented hunger, then wiped your frigid lips
boldly sprinkling flower petals, maniacally grinning

you glided out of sight
somehow you were allowed to know everything in his life.

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Wear That Smile Like a Sweater.

wear that smile like a warm winter jacket from hughman tango on Vimeo.

i did a vlog! the accent is fake. i’m sorry if it’s really bad. but i have to talk in an accent so as to avoid being completely myself. cause it doesn’t feel so great to be myself right now.

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Dance Motherfucker Dance!

The Union of marriage was always such bullshit. I don’t say that out of spite or anger, I’m stating that as a fact i know and believe. You can’t commit yourself to marry someone unless you know they’re the right person, but then again, you’ll never know if they are. Divorce rates are up to about 50%, maybe more. People are getting divorced before they even get married.

I was engaged, but it should have been a clear cut sign when we had to keep it a secret. I never believed in getting married, but not when i was with her. The way she spoke to me made me believe anything was possible, that everything would be fine in the end, and whenever it wasn’t fine, it was never the end. To all my best efforts in keeping the situation from becoming a pretentious dance, that’s what it became.

You can never marry a person who is younger than you. i don’t mean physically, she was younger, but mentally, i was the younger one. (at times.) we were intellectual equals yet i had a habit of always reducing my intellect around others, in order to make them laugh. i was a jester in the court of society, and i was that way with her too. if ever i made a mistake, that was it. I guess i figured it was the best way a mannequin like myself to convey how much i loved her. T.V. and media gave me false intel. (except 24, which is back on FOX, Jack Bauer is da man.)

These past few days, i’ve been in seclusion and forced to deduce everything at an alarming rate. If you’re too stupid to keep up with me, then i can weed you the fuck out, and not waste my time being dumb with you for your giggles. keep up or keep on walking. Alright, that was a little harsh, laughter is like a drug i need. i can’t explain it, but i have a gift to do that. And will continue to do so. The fact is, i should’ve never been a clownbaby with the person i love. i love everyone, but not like i love and needed her. she kept me from going insane while i danced for people. she kept me.

Now, conflictingly, i’m going to a Dim Mak thing tonight and i’m wondering if i should be dancing, i don’t wanna dance, but with an invitation that says, free vodka, I’m gonna dance my ass off. maybe i’ll get a cool dim mak t-shirt for my extraordinary disco skills?

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Lover’s Spit

This indifference I’m feeling is one thing the rain in Los Angeles can’t wash away. The silent nature of my expressions seem as empty as the bottles in my room. No matter how many ounces of social skills I consume, I feel nothing, as if a crucial part of me had died along with sunflower that I gave to her at sunset on Sunset Blvd. It sits withered in a celebratory bottle of chardonnay we shared. My blankets and pillows still smell of her and I’ve refused to sleep in them since she left me. I didn’t want to ruin the fragrance of love as it was the only thing her smell reminded me of. She left me towels that once graced her flesh, yet i can somehow feel the tears she hid in them as well.

They say I; “deserve better,” or “she was the wrong girl,” or “there’s plenty of fish in the sea,” or “if she loved you, she wouldn’t have done that to you.” I’ve never understood that these particular combinations of words were meant to make the another person feel better. They seem like conditioned rambles you spout to one another, and would just as quick disavow them when you go through the same thing. I know they mean well, but unfortunately, i’m too smart to fall for well wishes.


I believe I’m currently in a state of shock that justifies my indifference, but I know that once I realize what has actually happened to me, the emotions are going to strike like a barrage of raindrops, tears included. I hope that never happens, i really do. I’m foolishly trying to believe in her calling my name so i can throw open my arms for her. I know she’s been unfair, but my arms would unconditionally open up and saran wrap and suffocate her anyway. i had an epiphany that allowed me to love her no matter how heinous her actions were, i was becoming content with my misery, which is a form of happiness.

I can’t help but wonder that if only I had a few more hours, I could have shared an epiphany with her. By the time I got home from work, she had already gone. She even cleverly took my cellular phone charger, so I would not be able to charge my phone to call her incessantly. which I didn’t anyway, partly because you don’t feel like talking to anyone when your fiance packs all her things to disappear. The only part that was most painful, was the man she left more for, gloating and waving my mother’s engagement ring in his hand. It may or may not have meant much to her, but it meant the world to my unmarried mother. who had been engaged for twenty years. She gave me her engagement ring along with her blessing to take to her. I know i should get the ring back, but the only thing i would do is hang it next to the aesthetic and pointlessly sentimental ring that’s hung around my neck for the entire time I was able to feel. I don’t mind her keeping the ring as a reminder of the unconditional love that would’ve put up with her shenanigans, but even that seems more pointless.
All these people drinking lover’s spit, sitting around cleaning their faces with it.

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bottles and snow.

My fiancee left me for another man. Am i angry? No. Do i want to smash that guy’s face in with a manhole cover? Surprisingly no. Is she possibly giving him hugs and kisses that i think should be given to me? most likely. But mad I am not. I can’t even to start giving you an explanation. It wasn’t because i didn’t love her, which i do, but as to decipher why i am not angry, i don’t understand.

i guess i can start out by saying, they deserve each other. not in a sarcastic or pessimistic way. i’ve done my share of lurking and deducing situations before my thoughts move into fruition. they love each other no matter how much either of them want to debate that, they do. they’ve known each other several lifetimes over and i became just another stipulation in her life. there is no doubt in my mind that she will become something amazing, no doubt at all, but as far as me remaining in her picturesque life, i have no more hopes for. She truly is one of the most amazing people i’ve ever met, and believe we can be happy together when she learns how to be truly honest. but that isn’t the case, and i’ve realized this. every girl needs her secrets and i personally love to be in the pit of despair. not by choice, but every action i act upon and every word i say lead to despair. i cannot help this as this was the way i was raised, but with her, she dowed me more. she showed me despair was never the answer to things, that despair was something that was temporary, inconvenient, and probably pointless. but the fact is, she is gone, back into the world she idolizes, and me, back into my world of despair. i’ve neglected my best friends for far too long because of her, while canivingly planned a life with her behind my best friends’ backs. but today, is a different day, and i’ve “had a good run.” and back into the arms of my best friends, the bottles in the snowfall.

I’ve no wish to argue to win her back or anything like that, because frankly, i’ve done that too many times. and if that’s done with someone whom you wish to call your wife or fiancee, then, that’s been done one too many times. i’m letting her go. do i wish to? no. NO. i still love her very much and know that she has become the one person in my life that made me feel visible. but i also have to realize that she is loved by many more people than i have to count. i sincerely hope that it’s not because of her beauty that grants her the love she received and is reveiving. i hope that those who genuinely love her, love her for the person behind the fasade of glamour. i didn’t love that, i loved the soul instead.

through the series of research i’ve done on her past lovers, i’ve found that i was a simple combination of all of them, yet i was not a full compilation myself, a blank, an amoeba. i was to be molded and heated into something, and i had fully believed that the person to do the molding was her. but that was not the case. the person doing the molding was supposed to be me, WITH her influence. As the situation seems, i didn’t need her at all, i just needed her temporarily to mold myself as inspiration. she showed me the light and then took it away. she could do that with the wink of her eye, or the pucker of her lips. dangerously amazing.

yes i loved her, but it would only add to my demise if i continued to do so. though, i must thank her for providing me with the last chapter of my book as i was never able to cleverly think of one. but this ending seemed fitting as i do not wish to fight for her any longer. reason and obligation escape me as i contemplate my next tactics as i always have, but this time… we’re both at peace with the result. that’s a lie, i am not at peace, and never will be, but that’s the way my mind works, otherwise the entire world would make me yawn.

of course i do have a feeling i can’t identify inside me telling me to fight for her, to try to win her back, but why ruin such a good thing? the man she left me with completely clicks with her, in every way possible. They love the same things, have the same understanding for art, which i completely understand but refuse to condone given this day and age, and they make each other smile. i noticed i had stopped making her smile when i began to open my heart to her, but kept it secret. the truth is, my open heart really is just a metaphorically opened heart. blood, veins, plasma, everywhere, ugliness to those who can’t denote that. and it was, my own heart. it had started withering long ago, before i even understood what love meant, and continues to wither today, and that’s okay with me. i had known this, yet i still impersonated a person whom i thought would appreciate and cherish the healing she has provided. she has healed nothing. not a bit. but what she did do, was show me that that wasn’t the only purpose for the heart. i had seen it. i had felt it in cold nights, and i had believed in it. i love her for trying as hard as she did, but i really am, at the bottom of it all, a cold son of a bitch.

I am not mad that she left me, i’m, to be frank, more sincerely glad that she has found someone to make her happy. and i’ve been told and have read countless time that when you do love someone, you have to let them go. it was always, “let them go,” wasn’t it? i supposed the philosophers back then also knew despair to be the result of any of the heart;s pursuits and life. In my life, i was happiest with her, but in all actuality, it’s selfish to try and continue that because she wouldn’t be happy. so my one unselfish act i suppose, is to let her stay with the man she belongs with, and not try to conflict her any further. she is still the one person that understands me best, and is my best friend, but friendship changes when the unsavory ingredient of love is thrown into the mix, and so, i lose the love of my life, along with the best friend i’ve ever had.

this has nothing to do with my vented blog, but i will say that my best memory of the life i longed for, was that little red velvet couch. we took a long walk through subtle starving suburbia and fell upon it. we fell in love with it, and the both of us carried the little two seater red velvet couch 4 blocks back to my house. at that moment, was the moment i truly didn’t feel like my usual self destructive and loathing self anymore, at that moment, i felt as if we really could conquer that facetiousness the world shoved down our throats. at that moment, i knew our cliched love was not a cliche. and the next day, i walked into a cold and desolate room to find her luggage and belongings have all vanished. not even a note to signify the confusion in her heart and soul. i remember not feeling angry or sad nor did i want to find answers to qualm my thirst for justification. i found that the cold and empty room, was already the answer she had given me.

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He rapes you with his camera

It’s great when i don’t feel hungry. I’ve always had an appetite for things… anything really. but this time around, i don’t. It’s not necessarily a bad thing because i can always find the necessary nutrients elsewhere; pills, vitamins, fruit smoothies, etc. but right now all i want to do is wither.

Now, if you’ve never tried to wither, i will grant you this one piece of advice: it is much harder to do than you think. everytime the second hand clicks on your watch, it seems slower. when people tell you shitty dumb jokes, it seems like it takes even longer to get to the punchlines, but what’s worse is that your mind flys by even faster than before, and you’re left constantly refreshing the page in your mind that details why you wanted to wither in the first place. it’s a real doozy, if you ask me.

why is it that i want to wither? well, i can feel my fiancee breaking off the relationship before the 9th of this month, which is when i see her again, except she still has a grasp on me. that grasp somehow fasades itself as a glimmer of hope, but i naturally know better. but i can’t fight this feeling. so i’ve decided on withering because she refuses to exert any kind of effort in resolving a few problems, and i have to be okay with wether or not she wants to resolve with waking up in the morning to call me.

the situation is also malicious to my ego at the moment because she has rejuvinated a friendship she had with a creepy and popular older photographer. you can tell his age and advancement in life by how many adjectives i’ve used to describe him. but he’s old. and has a thing for cindy brady. yes the youngest of the brady bunch. and has refered my fiancee as cindy brady on several occasions. i’m not saying it isn’t a cute gesture, it is, but not when you’re twice the age of an engaged girl, using your popularity as a primary weapon. well i’ll tell you what, i’ve googled the fuck out of you, and you’re immensely regarded as a fucking pervert you fuck. BUT. i will say that i can sense your wit in dry humor, which i appreciate in written form. but i know for a fact my fiancee isn’t a fan of dry wit and humor. yet she enjoys talking to you, which means she’s clouded by your popularity, because you’ve nothing else to offer.

what kills me is that i’ll lose the one woman i love to a methodical pervert like him. they may not be involved romantically, but what is ANY romantic involvement if intellect isn’t involved. it’s a waste of time and completely violates the lust or temptation law you religious ones have. i love my girlfriend and have tried long and hard to keep her from going astray, but i can’t help her if she’s the one behind the steering wheel slamming on the gas pedal.

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