unicidades

I've been asked to marry someone.

CITA, last Sunday, after teaching the class with Pibe Sarandi.

Peter Gabriel I Grieve Translation in progress. Please wait... It was only one hour ago It was all so different then There's nothing yet has really sunk in Looks like it always did This flesh and bone It's just the way that you would tied in Now there's no-one home I grieve for you You leave me 'so hard to move on Still loving what's gone They say life carries on Carries on and on and on and on The news that truly shocks is the empty empty page While the final rattle rocks it's empty empty cage And i can't handle this I grieve for you You leave me Let it out and move on Missing what's gone They say life carries on They say life carries on and on and on Life carries on In the people i meet In everyone that's out on the street In all the dogs and cats In the flies and rats In the rot and the rust In the ashes and the dust Life carries on and on and on and on Life carries on and on and on It's just the car th

I never thought I would get to this point of losing myself into the idea of love. Why is it taking so long to move on and why can't I just break the pattern?

Song by Carlos Varela Una palabra no dice nada y al mismo tiempo lo esconde todo igual que el viento que esconde el agua como las flores que esconde el lodo. Una mirada no dice nada y al mismo tiempo lo dice todo como la lluvia sobre tu cara o el viejo mapa de algun tesoro. Una verdad no dice nada y al mismo tiempo lo esconde todo como una hoguera que no se apaga como una piedra que nace polvo. Si un dia me faltas no sere nada y al mismo tiempo lo sere todo porque en tus ojos estan mis alas y esta la orilla donde me ahogo, porque en tus ojos estan mis alas y esta la orilla donde me ahogo.

Slow as slow can be.

A scared animal walks down the street. Closed warehouses, a full restaurant at the corner. People standing and chatting. Voices. A man. A whisper. The cement is hard and warm. The animal walks fast. She goes in. Faces turn. She's overwhelmed by the number of people. Their voices, their voices are not subtle. Those are happy people, you know. They dress nice and they remind me of clothes that you take out of the dryer. But, not. They don't remind me of anything that resembles cozy. They are foreign. I can't see my childhood reflected in that. They eat well and their past-times are fancy. Even the way they argue is fancy and refined. These people. They are. They are the ones that talk about Art. They stand there and look and talk and laugh. They eat those fancy mini-things and they toast with free wine. Some of them smell like lavender. The are beautiful and curvy and their hair is always put and ready. And they always have their nails done. they don't speak the language

We give so much credit to God for having created us. We actually might have created God.

I lost my fancy red phone. It's new and I don't have many contacts stored in it. Just the most important ones. I will pay ramson if found and returned. I suspect Dear R., that you know where my phone is. If that's the case, you only have to return it. No questions asked.

It could have been me.

The Moth in the Museum, 2010, Oil on Canvas, 38 x 27 in. by Cesar Santos. Depois da entrega e da sutil despedida sei muito bem que vou para nao voltar.  Nao voltarei a ser. Nao criarei mais sonhos nos quais te possa encontrar nem buscarei luz  nem teu olhar palido e distante Sei que nao voltaras e dessa dor resignada e  constante e que verto mais uma vez o amargo movimento de partir

At night, I take a shower I get my hair wet and let the water run for a while Hope. Death. Feeling defeated It strikes me again that the rain is warm It's windy outside and there are leaves everywhere

I went to the lab yesterday to have some lab work done and the lady who was collecting the sample started talking to me about the concern people have about getting their results at home. Then she went on about a man who was being tested for HIV and asked her not to send the result to his home because he didn't want his wife to find out. The lady then said that she didn't understand why men cheated, why do men face this inability to stay with one person?  She also mentioned that a friend of hers was having many problems with a cheater. I don't know the answer to her questions, but I find that to be so true. Most men are either cheaters or womanizers. It seems like quantity does the trick for them. Relationships are hard to sustain weather there's a third person on the equation or not. It's worse if people in the relationship have no trust and have to worry about that as well. I just can't seem to adjust to being with anyone.

All of a sudden the pain came back and it feels like it has never left