I Think I Need A Sunrise...

I woke up elated, ended up mad.
I woke up so happy, finished it sad.
I wanted to write, but I forgot.
Wanted so much...this is all I got.

I cannot fight the battles alone
Or carry the weight uphill by myself
It is not my job to have enough faith,
To pretend I am a perfect woman.

It is my right to feel, to love, to live.
To encourage, to demand, to support.
To speak freely and listen equally so.
Understood? No. But to understand.

I'm tired. Weight of the World is on replay. The blade is cool. You find peace. I cannot, obviously, bring you any.

"She said I think I'll go to Boston...
I think I'll start a new life,
I think I'll start it over,
where no one knows my name.

I'll get out of California,
I'm tired of the weather,
I think I'll get a lover
and fly him out to Spain...

Oh yeah and I think I'll go to Boston,
I think that I'm just tired
I think I need a new town,
to leave this all behind...
I think I need a sunrise,
I'm tired of the sunset,
I hear it's nice in the Summer,
some snow would be nice...

You don't know me, you don't even care, oh yeah..."

~"Boston" by Augustana

You Are...

The sound of rain drops hitting the banana leaves and my tin roof at night...and the cool breeze that came with it through my windows, bringing me the sleep of those who have no cares in their mind.

Sleepless nights where words overwhelm and thoughts race.

The blood in my veins...the language of my tongue...the one that finishes a thought...the other half of my being.

The rush I feel in the pit of my stomach when I'm the next one in line to get on a roller coaster half ready to chicken out...but so ready for the ride.

Like that pang I feel in my chest when I Brandi Carlile screams at the end of The Story...or when that feeling of...alive when I hear the solo in Weezer's "Perfect Situation".

You're the moon and the stars, and the humbling feeling they give me when I look up at the desert sky...and how it almost feels like they're shining solely for me.

The sound of a spoon clinking against the edges of a cup, early in the morning...when my grandmother was up making breakfast and starting her day...

The taste of water after a long day at the beach...sweet, fresh and soothing. Like you almost forgot what water really tastes like when it's not from the ocean...

Like the smile my grandfather gave me when I made a good move while playing dominos on a Sunday night, out on the roof of the house. That smile that said he was both stuck with a crappy move because of me...that I had foiled his plan...and that he was also proud of how quickly I was becoming good at beating him.

That huge ball of fire setting down, sinking into the horizon at Huntington Beach...and the innumerable sparkles dancing across the beach as I stood on that pier thinking I would never witness anything as beautiful in my life.

You're the laughter that I've held in for years, that now flows out of me like a morning song out of a Scarlet Tanager...feeling both naturally and foreign to my ears...Robert Browning said it best: "What are the voices of birds, but words, our words, only so much more sweet?"

That first bite of cheesecake...

That first sip of Diet Coke in the morning...

That upside down kiss between Spiderman and Mary Jane...

That one you close your eyes...and see yourself raising your unborn children with. That non existent house needing to be fixed up. The unfought arguments over silly things. A future both real and completely imaginary.

The one you knew existed somewhere, out in the universe, but never dared to look for.

The one you feel you've met in a previous life...and all you're doing now is reconnecting...filling in the blanks.

That sigh. That smile. That absent glance out into nothing, half hoping to find those pair of eyes staring back at you.

All. Nothing. Everything. You are. You will be. Completion. Revival. Pain. Love.

Wear my ring. Wear it around your heart.

You are...

...Home.

Lists: I also like Songs

So, I cheated. I was supposed to do this for 30 days...which, I had every intention of doing. But I got side tracked with life. It happens.

However, here's the list, if you care. Facebook can lick my butthole. I love my blog.

day 01 - your favorite song - "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" The Beatles

day 02 - your least favorite song - "Slow Motion" crap by Juvenile

day 03 - a song that makes you happy - "Come on Eileen" Dexys Midnight Runners

day 04 - a song that makes you sad - "Accidental Babies" Damien Rice

day 05 - a song that reminds you of someone - "Queen Bee" Taj Mahal

day 06 - a song that reminds you of somewhere - "Caravelas Y Diablitos" Fabulosos Cadillacs

day 07 - a song that reminds you of a certain event - "You Make Me Smile" Blue October

day 08 - a song that you know all the words to - every song? lol..."El Fin De La Infancia"...took me weeks.

day 09 - a song that you can dance to - sigh..."Gasolina" by Daddy Yankee. I tear it up. Or "Swing" by Savage.

day 10 - a song that makes you fall asleep - "Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)" Billy Joel

day 11 - a song from your favorite band - "Weight of the World" Blue October

day 12 - a song from a band you hate - anything Kumbia Kingz...

day 13 - a song that is a guilty pleasure - Walk Like Winter - AFI

day 14 - a song that no one would expect you to love - "Aca Entre Nos" - Vicente Fernandez

day 15 - a song that describes you - "Tomorrow" Blue October

day 16 - a song that you used to love but now hate - "Wasted" Brandi Carlile

day 17 - a song that you hear often on the radio - I don't listen to the radio...

day 18 - a song that you wish you heard on the radio - "I and Love and You" - Roy

day 19 - a song from your favorite album - "Pies a Cabeza" - Mana en Vivo

day 20 - a song that you listen to when you’re angry - "Walk" - Pantera

day 21 - a song that you listen to when you’re happy - "I'm Yours" Jason Mraz

day 22 - a song that you listen to when you’re sad - "Raining in Baltimore" Counting Crows

day 23 - a song that you want to play at your wedding - "Sh-Boom" The Chords

day 24 - a song that you want to play at your funeral - "If I Ever Leave This World Alive" - Floggin Molly

day 25 - a song that makes you laugh - "12 Drugs of Christmas" - Tenacious D

day 26 - a song that you can play on an instrument - "Fade to Black" - Metallica

day 27 - a song that you wish you could play - "The Cave" - Mumford & Sons

day 28 - a song that makes you feel guilty - "Whiskey Lullaby" - Brad Paisley ft Allison Krauss

day 29 - a song from your childhood - "The Way You Make Me Feel" - Michael Jackson

day 30 - your favorite song at this time last year - "Just Dance" - Josh Turner

Lists: I like Movies

So, a friend of mine tagged me on this list thing on Facebook. I still can't wrap my head around the FB concept...not really sure why I even have one. Alas, I rather share this on my blog than do it on Facebook and get 36 "likes" and 20 unnecessary comments about people pretending to know what crap's all about.

Yeah, I had a cup of bitter this morning. Excuse me, if you don't like it.

1. A movie that makes you laugh - Anchorman

2. A movie that makes you cry - Awesome tie between (500) Days of Summer and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

3. An actor you consider sexy - Oded Fehr

4. An actress you consider sexy - Judy Garland

5. A great director - Juan Antonio Bayona

6. A great adaption - Shawshank Redemption

7. A feel-good movie - Friend Green Tomatoes

8. A feel-bad movie - Sin Nombre

9. A movie that scares you - An American Werewolf in London

10. A beautiful movie - What Dreams May Come

11. A really bad movie - Teeth...

12. A movie you wish more people would see - Paper Heart

13. One actor from Ocean's Thirteen - Pitt

14. An actor or actress you would like to marry - Tatum Channing

15. Best cartoon/animation movie - The Emperor's New Groove/Finding Nemo

16. A good dystopic movie - District 9

17. A WW2 movie - Jakob the Liar

18. A teenage-movie - Breakfast Club

19. A-America-is-best-country-in-the-world-movie - Independence Day

20. A great documentary - Born Into Brothels. (Watch it!)

21. A Las Vegas movie - National Lampoon's Vegas Vacation

22. A great 90s movie - The Matrix

23. Best Hitchcock movie - The Birds

24. A Tarantino movie (sorry I couldn't help it) - Pulp Fiction!

25. The first movie you remember seeing - The Wizard of Oz

26. An actor you consider fantastic - Sigh. Heath Ledger.

27. An actress you consider fantastic - Kate Winslet

28. A movie that rocked your world -

29. A (great) Swedish movie - Låt den rätte komma in.

30. A great European movie - Undertaking Betty

31. A movie you would like to see - Star Wars...first one.

32. Last movie you saw - Love and Other Drugs

33. BEST MOVIE EVER - Jaws :|

Let's Play A Game

I'll rip my red bow from my hair,
and light the canvas on fire.
No one said it would be fair,
Quickened exit, running tired.

It's a two way street, life. You give and you take. I don't like putting myself out there, and people expecting my honesty...at all times...only to be re-payed in dismissal when the coin turns.

We all have our demons...secrets, fights, confusion...Confusion. What a word. I hide nothing, ever. For better or worse. What you see, find, hear and talk about with me is all you get. That's me. So there I am, vulnerable. Open. Exposed.

It's not fair to get the door slammed on my face.

We are all our own brand of tired. No man is an island. No man's problems are unique to him. No one is in life alone. You want understanding? You have to let people in.

Ugly sides. We all have them. But it's time to shut down. I have to be up in 3 hours. I'm not going to sleep. Just lay here and give in to this gut instinct telling me to shut out everyone again. To go back to square one. Love all, trust few...if any.

Everyone's out for now. No one is allowed close to me anymore.

Friday, the 13th

I overslept again,
But really I'm undersleeping.

Last night's paint wouldn’t come off my hands.
My hair refused to settle,
So a tangled mess it is.
Like tiny snakes coiling around my face,
Getting in my eyes
Crying ‘Revolution!’

My favorite shirt had a stain,
So I stared at the closet
Time ticking, Tick Toc…
My feet are swollen…
Late for work. No time for thoughts.
Car smells like ass and
Won’t…refuses to start.

No breakfast. Hands shaking.
Stupid diabetes, stupid sun in my eyes.
Thirty calls waiting for me,
Everyone forgot how to work.
Hour long support call,
To be made feel dumb. Die, Bob.
My stomach is in knots.

Forgot my meds. I'm sad.

Trying to put on make up,
I broke the spongey face sponge.
Now it looks like it has a mouth.
Garble garble. I giggle. Danny says I’m weird.
You’re weird too, Danny.
Dropped the foundation all over my pants,
At least they’ll look blemish free?
Boss cussing and slamming mouse,
I sit here wondering why my car smells.

I need to walk away from my desk,
NO COFFEE IN THE BREAK ROOM!
Chatty redhead bores me,
Says she makes good coffee.
Made some from home,
That tasted like coconut
And looked like tea.
You talk too much, woman,
And your coffee is weak.
Sit back down. Wait for lunch…

Traffic, almost died, hot outside.
I got trapped in middle lane,
And had to take the long way back.
Food was cold, lettuce was warm,
Diet Coke was watery. Strike two.
Guy turned illegally, I swerved,
Cussed out loud. Thought of mom.
Thought of Dad. Thought of soon.
Elevator broke at work,
Climb up three floors.
Can’t eat lunch, phone is ringing.
On call weekend. All coworkers gone.
I like Thor. Just not his hammer.
It’s Friday the 13th…

And my car smells like ass.

This Time...No.

You stepped out in the rain where I had been standing in for hours, looking at you through a glass window playing a show to a coffee house crowd.

I was afraid to look in your eyes, so I just stared at the floor around your feet and whispered "I'm confused". Your voice was quiet, apologetic and short..."I know. I'm sorry."

I wiped my nose with my sleeve, and realized for the first time since I was standing there that I was cold. I nodded, still looking at the floor. "Ok" was all I managed to mumble back before I turned around and started walking down the streets. Rain sloshing everywhere. I wasn't sad. I was angry. My phone vibrated and I read your text message "You knew this was what you signed up for." I shoved the phone in my back pocket, you were right. What could I say.

I hailed a cab, the driver was an older Cuban man with a big cigar and postcards of La Habana all over his roof. I told him to take me to the party and that he smelled like my grandfather, sweet vanilla and tobacco smell. He dropped me off at a coliseum and gave me $5.00 to get me something to eat, and for a second, he was grandpa. He drove off and I felt like I missed the opportunity to catch up and see how he was doing.

I walked into the party, and there were beautiful glittery purple balloons everywhere. Everyone was dressed in black and neon blue, dancing to smooth jazz and wearing flip flops. I walked to the center of the dance floor and looked up at the disco ball, sparkling specks reflecting all over my face. I missed you already. I pushed you out of my head and pulled a flask out of my jacket pocket, and downed it in one try. I threw the flask at a blonde across the dance floor and hit her on the nose. I was escorted out, into the desert. An owl was on my shoulder and it told me to go sleep...and I told it to fuck off. It blinked and flew off. I giggled. I missed you more.

So I went to the end of a rock formation, and heard coyotes howling in the distance. It scared me. I looked at your picture in my phone and let my body tip forward off the cliff and down into whatever awaited me at the bottom.

I'm really tired.

That, frankly, will not fly...

You are here to share to share the highest highs...and lowest lows.



When the going gets tough...We lash out in self defense. Things are lost in translation, and we're left confused...or are we? Maybe we're right in our initial assumption. After all, we're told to trust our gut. Our initial reaction to something. Maybe it is too much to expect the world to be created in 7 literal days. So if you can't rely on simple, unadulterated faith in something...and all you have is your primal instincts screaming the way it would watching something burning to the ground...

What is there left to do but to shut your eyes tight, grip your pillow...and wait for the world to stop spinning? Hope you don't die in the process?

Everything does look perfect, from far away.

Love Grows

"Love isn't always there. Love isn't born, it grows."

I remember the slight hurt and shock I felt when I heard mom say those words to me when I was 10. She had been talking about how stubborn she was when she was engaged to dad. That he annoyed her with his persistence, and his being 4 years younger than her. I cringed further when she stated she had accepted dad's engagement ring because she felt pity for him...because it was the right thing to do. Shortly thereafter, during a small argument about dad not having enough money to buy her an ice cream cone, she had returned the ring to him...leaving him devastated in the driveway of the old house.

That night, my grandmother had given my mom a stern talking and shout fest. Told mom that the world didn't revolve around her pride and capricious ways. That she had to grow up and do the right thing...stop toying with a man's emotions. To pick...once and for all...all in or all out. Mom went to my dad the next day and felt bad that he was so broken so she asked for the ring back. Dad was beyond happy...time moved forward and they got married. Mom says no sex was had during the honeymoon, and even after that it was sporadic. She didn't feel any attraction to him, just fondness. Years went by. I was born. I remember them always holding hands everywhere...dad worshiped the ground mom stood, pretty much. I remember her devoting herself to me and doing a lot of the silent treatment to him.

When I was 12, Grandma died (Mom's mom) and things got strained between my folks. A few years later, when I was 16/17, Dad left us. Mom was mess. At first I blamed her, for being cold to him...for being, in nice words, a real bitch. I thought she got what she deserved. To be alone and miserable and forgotten. But...then I thought of that conversation. Of how she hadn't even married him out of love, just duty. So I asked her...why did she care now? She simply said "I grew to love him. To need him. To consider him my best friend, my partner and my prince charming. I grew to trust he would be there until we would die. Yari, I got on my knees and begged him to stay, the last night he was here. ME. On my KNEES." I just looked away and said "We're better off, Mom".

That picture up there is one of my favorite picture of my parents. I don't know when it was taken...but they look happy. Both of them. Care free. Somewhere between no love to heart breaking divorce, that picture was taken. Oddly enough...that's how they look now. That happy.

Was all the other bullshit necessary, to find happily ever after?

Wynken, Blynken and Nod...

I was living in Pennsylvania again. In the little row home on Oak Street…where the melting pot of the Caribbean took place in Allentown.

I had three sons, who were not home yet at 7 p.m. and I was worried. So I zipped up my heavy coat and headed out into the snow covered alleys to look for them. For some reason I had a picture of them in my pocket, already sensing something had gone wrong with them. Three olive skinned boys, all with olive skin and big brown eyes rimmed with dark lashes. Their heads a mess of soft, loose curls and their smiles all accentuated with deep dimples on their cheeks. I teared up looking at the picture and my chest tightened up. The oldest looked about 13, the middle one looked 11 and the little one looked to be 8. Where was he? Why wasn’t he out here looking for our sons in the snow? I checked my cell phone and no texts or calls. He didn’t even notice I left the house to look for them.

I heard kids yelling out in the distance, and then two gunshots. Silence. I ran and kept falling face first in the snow, and I screamed out “Abdiel!” No answer. My eldest wasn’t answering. I finally reached the alley and simply saw two bodies laying in the cold, a few feet from each other and their blood staining the snow covered pavement. I screamed. I knew. I was late. I saw Abdiel running away from me, even though he heard my cries and screams. My pleas for him to stop. Another teen was trying to hold me up as I walked to the bodies of my younger sons. He kept rushing me with the story, how some of their friends were playing with a gun and accidentally shot my sons. That his friend didn’t mean to do harm…that he would call an ambulance and be right back. I sank to my knees between their bodies, my eyes darting from one face to the other, looking for life. I kept mumbling, and half screaming “Xavi, talk to me, papi, please open your eyes. Mi amor please, wake up, bebe” to my youngest, his mouth and face covered in blood, his curls matted with it. Nothing. My middle one was on his stomach, his backpack crushing him and blood pouring from his chest under him. I shook him, “Jay, please papito talk to mami, breathe mi angel. Dios mio por favor, baby just open your eyes”.

I knew where my oldest son was going, and I kept calling my husband’s name asking him to run and stop him. I left him voicemails, he wouldn’t answer the phone. I texted him. No reply. I just kept thinking, my only one left is going to find those other boys. They’ll shoot him too. So I started running down the street and around the corner where I saw him go. I kept turning corners and coming upon empty streets as the snow piles grew heavier. I finally reached the street where he was, and saw him throwing himself with a knife into the middle of a group of older boys. I screamed his name again, to stop…But all I had left after a few steps was my 13 year old, on his knees with the blade in his stomach. Looking up at me crying and unable to talk, lip quivering. I felt the world go black as he gasped out “Mom…”

I was in the middle of English class, and I was 15 again. The classroom was dim and I could feel the rain beating the roof hard. Muggy afternoon in Puerto Rico. My English teacher, Mrs. Rios, asked me to come to the front of the class. I tried to get up, but my knee wouldn’t bend. My left knee was stiff and hurt like it was burning up from the inside out. I kept trying to get up but had no strength, so I kept wobbling back to my seat in pain. I finally was able to get up, and my best friend Arelys was carrying me from one arm…and David from the other. I told them “I’ve missed you guys so much. We haven’t seen each other in years. You were always my best friends.” Arelys said “Of course I’m here for you, mama. Thinks with me are always the same”…David leaned over and kissed my cheek, whispered “Te quiero, mi negra”. I was so happy I had my two best friends from 1^st grade back that I forgot the pain, but I realized I was walking on a slushy surface. I looked down and the floor was a giant pancake covered in slippery syrup. I laughed as Mrs. Rios started screaming in Spanish “Oh my God, the floors are pancakes. Everyone pick it up before the syrup runs through the floor and it makes a hole!”

But I saw myself sink, almost like in quicksand, up to my neck in the middle of the pancake. Except now it wasn’t a pancake. It was soggy wood that had scratched my body all the way to sticking into my neck, almost severing my head off. I looked around me at everyone’s horrified face…probably because my head had detached completely and now lay in a pool of blood. I felt my lips getting cold, and the last thing I saw was a stray dog, sitting at the corner of the classroom…that now looked like a porch. It stared at me, licking its nose.

I don’t even know what to think anymore.