maybe I should take a short escape.
to a place where no one knows me.
and be anyone I want.
and spend the night
seeing it through the eyes of wine.
(maybe I should do that)

soy un mierda.
lo soy.
un pendejo.
un loser.
una persona que no vale nada.

un recuerdo

"No quiero decir que es malo...
es que nosotros ya superamos ese tipo de idea...
buscamos más profundidad, sabés lo que digo?" dijo él, mientras tomaba mate en su escritorio.

"yeah, I know, you perfect asshole", pensé

I hate condescension.

Miro y no veo mucho.

Solo dos personas hablando rodeadas

De charcos que dejó la lluvia

Y que ahora sólo sirven para reflejar

los edificios alrededor.

You accept it.

You face it.

Or you drown it with writings, movies and song.

And you figure out

that maybe it's fine.

we became friends a few years back. we met through a website dealing with movies.
When I went to the States we met for lunch and had long talk about cinema. We kept e-mailing about favorite films and our friendship grew.

Then I sent you a link to my movie blog but by linking you found my personal blog where I posted myself naked in words and photos. And suddenly I freaked out when you showed this other side of you. The side of you that I didn't know. The sexual side of you that lusted after another man. I didn't know what to make of it and for a while I didn't know how to react.Having a bisexual side myself, I understood, but I felt strange having someone I considered a mere friend feel that way about me, especially in such a honest, direct way.Especially a man so much older than me.

Luckily by talking to a friend I was able to understand. To realize that it was ok. And we kept exchanging e-mails and talking mostly about movies. I came to realize how brave you were, being bisexual at a time when that must have been such a difficult thing. And I am happy I was able to convey that to you.

pierdo el interés fácilmente.
me voy en tangentes.
(no es que me importe tanto)
pero a veces debo volver al presente.
creo.

Fast like I can be.

Making faces.

Running scared.

Being me.

Just barely.

So many fights I've lost.

Some not.

Lucky guy.

Smart maybe.

So long.

See you.

A cup of coffee. 

Old woman walks slowly by the door.

Small talk to my right.

a glass of wine.
a few words come to my head.
words like
ones I used to write long ago.
I write them down.
and I look at them for a few minutes.
why them?

my heart
my feelings.
my eyes.
my hair.
my sadness.
my smiles.
my cock.
my anxieties.
my laughs.
my ass.
my longing.
my balls.
my hands.
my fingers.
my dreams.
fuck them.
ignore them.
say they are invisible.
(they are not real)
I know.

something else

feeling restless so late at night.
I think of everything.
life. death.
tomorrow.
I want to think of something else.
I watch some bisexual porn online
and stroke my cock
slowly.
filling my mind
with something else.
with thoughts oh her,
of him.
I don't care.
restless turns to something else.
don't ask me what it is.

I am here.
see?
look.
right here.
I know. I know.