Colonia Uruguay
Una de las paradas de mi diario de motocicleta por América Latina, pero sin moto ni bicicleta. Solo con tenis jalando la maleta. Y en mi bolsa tenía la letra que le quería darle. Ella con su novio y yo con mi vergüenza.
The Gift is the Curse
When does a gift become a curse, when does saving someone become kidnapping their destiny? When does protection become detention, when do positive vibes become a numb happy?
Death is Real
Death is real in the sense of living without living. That death is realer to me than actual death. It chases me when I do not live up to my fullest potential. It waits for me to make decisions based on my fear. And that choice takes me closer to death.
I Left Her for Brooklyn 3
You could have been a father. You didn’t even have to play your cards right. You just needed to play your fucking hand. She had all her bets on us. Instead you had a fucked up definition of success and took your chip to another table. Not even a stack. That’s right nigga. She left New York for you and you left her for Japan. So what? You didn’t have your shit together? Neither did she. It didn’t matter. You loved each other.
I Left Her for Brooklyn 2
Her right hand reaches out and takes a hold of my left. I am starting to feel like I am earning her trust back. I am starting to feel like I can trust myself.
I Left Her for Brooklyn 1
The place is nearly empty. But my thoughts are full. I got 13 hours. JFK is a dead zone. No WiFi. My iPhone is a dead zone. No cellular data. It will be 13 hours of New York, and the only thing on my mind is all that she doesn’t know.