trois generations

as i sit with...
let me pour another glass of wine,
another song to get them dancing, laughing in french
ahem.
as i sit with the two generations before me, i imagine what i will become
these thoughts come with anticipation, recognition, determination.
i respect the laugh, the dance.
i want the same wrinkles, similar life experience.
i can only hope to achieve as these women have.
hold the respect that they so casually maintain as they laugh, goofily, silly, carelessly.

and can i ever cook a turkey like she can, will ever entertain like her, love like her, live like her?
when i laugh, am i as inspiring as her?
do i cause tears when i loose myself in the beauty that i posess like her?
in my wildest most anxious dreams i wish to be recognized as something that came from you, from your train of thought, from the blood that pumps through your veins.

and i see where it all comes from.
how is it that a matriarch like this woman can be such a child at heart.
after children, and living, and crying, the laughter is the dominant trait.
and the smiles you share, the tears of joy you shed, they all stem from the strengths within you,
they embody all that you are, from your questions to your answers, your faults to your truths.
and you are beautiful.
you are life.
the deepest, most innate sense of self and purpose and truth. the smile, the laughter, the joy.

you are what we search for, what we create religions for, what we need answers for...
we should all take a step back, a breath in, and an eye open to recognize...
this is what. this is why we are here.
you are beautiful,
you are life.

thank you for being in me, for inspiring me, and for providing me with a sense of purpose.
you are my destiny.

distance

as everyone departs on journeys that will span the country, it is an interesting time in new york city.
it becomes evident that people migrate. they move and change with time and colors. this city holds us together under a loose ribbon. we are free to leave whenever we please but we continue to come back for more.
and life changes.
waking up this gloomy morning i feel refreshed and prepared for each moment that challenges me.
stretching each limb as if to prepare for an athletic event, acknowledging that the event is life itself.
because this life will throw you surprises and in the next moment, everything can change. like everyone can be absent from a city you know only when it is populated with familiarity.
there are stages to our lives but they are not giant apparent steps which we see coming.
they creep up on you and before you can accept the offer of newness, you are in it.
you are a product of the motion. a result of the exchanges and rearranges that keep the pulse in the street, the beat under the manholes, the breath in the buildings.
we fulfill roles that we create, and together perform a symphony that shifts with each measure as each of our moments open new avenues and alleys.
lacking in structure yet structure is all we seek, modifications on an idea that does not exist.
and this love i have for friends who have become family, and family who have become friends.
i deeply respect the choices you have made and the future you have chosen, may your symphony be delicate, honest, and giving.

to amy and rinaldo.

my bro

i love that my bro reads this shit...makes me want to write more.
if he's cool with it i'd love to throw up a link to his beats on ths piece...
sam dogg...comment to this post and let me know if you're down...glad we're back on track like we should have been years ago...i miss my bro big time.

a beautiful day in harlem

when the sun is shining, the weather is calm and inviting.
but the large, looming building that enslaves you towers above the streets and tries to block out the sun.
and once you enter it, with your sunglasses on and high spirits on your sleeve, you succomb to the fact that you will not exit with such spirits and the sunglasses you once wore will only impede your vision because the darkness has come. you try to race against the setting of the sun but the building locks you in, testing your will yet teasing you with windows and sounds from below.
and so you are stuck, until another beautiful morning, maybe in some other part of this city. but for this morning it began in harlem, and it shall end once i escape from this hold.

movement

percussion would be nothing without the bass.
an empty rythm lacking subsance and determination, like a marathon runner without a finish line.
and with the depth and cushion the bass brings comes a reassuring sense of calm.
relax, she whispered into my ear. and it is this word, in that tone, that is my bass.
the relentless drum urging me to go on with no end in sight. searching blindfolded for a reason, a purpose.
but with one breath it can all transform into a spark of imagination, a sudden rev of the engine which drives me, inspires me, transcends the nothingness that has become my percussion.
and with these i create my melody, i become my reveries.
into all that i have felt i begin to sink deeper.
unaware of what is beyond yet comforted by the surprise.
rolling on waves of my own creativity, my unbelievability.
where does this all end is of no concern since the beginning of this trip is all that exists.
occassionaly reality knocking on my rainy car door window and i pass and let it go, careful not to splash it with the puddle and the tire for i might want to meet later, just not today, not today.
the method to this madness is no longer sadness for the rain is here and it is flowering my desire, pushing me to inspire even the most remote parts of my emptiness.
and i will rise.
all the while, the bass line pumping the blood through my veins with soft, subtle whispers. reminding. me. to. relax.
this is my movement.

spanish women

i've concluded that i have a weakness for spanish women. when i say spanish i mean spanish in all shapes and sizes from espana to dominican republic to peurto rico to cuba to columbia to mexico to bronx. not to mention those brazilians.
funny how a white girl who is determined to identify as moroccan can have such an affinity for the sexy latina ways with their moves and their curves and their words and their lips and their hips and not to mention the ass.
i am having a hard time getting over my ex-girlfriend's family. shitty when you find a family that replicates the one that you have a hard time living without but cant help it because they are in california.
my other family, the one here in ny & va are very welcoming and loving. i have been debating whether or not to spend time with them because i dont want to make my ex feel uncomfortable, but i rationalize that she has made me feel terribly uncomfortable on more than several occassions and i dont give a shit how she feels. i miss them and i have a relationship with them so i will see them.
enough of this. im concerned that i will only date spanish women until i find one to marry, have children with and create a family that resembles mine and those that i love.
i wonder how some people can go through life waiting to get married. as if their sole purpose is to be a wife, or a husband, mother, father, whatever. im afraid i've spent too much time in love recently and i've lost sight of my internal inspiration. the days when i needed nothing but my music, my creative space, and time. now i have no time, no creative space, and music that only frustrates me because i want more. i want those things that make me whole, that make me satisfied without having to outsource the satisfaction from some spanish woman.
time to get back on my shit, but this law school thing gets in the way.
i want to dance. alone.

time for me

tonight is the night that i get in the bath tub. i listen to relaxing music. i drink a glass of wine. i pamper me. i never take time to do this and i think it is just about that time. stress and all other distractions are left at the door.
i've had an interesting day. the weather was unbelievable and my friend and i decided to go to the park. we bought a football like good little lesbians and proceeded to walk through central park. we stumbled upon the skating rink and somehow i was persuaded to rent skates and ice skate in central park. extremel cliche but what are you gonna do. afterward, we went to a big beautiful open space and played catch with the football.

i went to a dance class today, dont worry folks i did not participate...that would have been an ugly scene, but i was very entertained and somewhat inspired. after the latin dance class, i took the instructor out to dinner...you know i just walked up to her and aksed her out...funny how that works.
im just kidding.
i went out to eat with the cuban, she is the dancer...
and now i am about to get in my bath.
i just received a drunken phone call from this straight girl that i always used to hit on when i worked at applebee's. she called me her first crush, whatever that means. life is strange sometimes...
i am over straight girls.
fuck. i think im over girls
im into baths...

dusk

i had written on tuesday while in my torts class about my friend jake, but my internet connection was cut off before the post was published. im in another class right now. and im looking outside at the manhattan bridge at dusk. i see water towers. i love water towers in this city. i'd like to thank my friend amy for making me look up one day and point them out. its not like silo's in the midwest, its our own disaster preparation.
i think im going to fail my law school exams.
i found out yesterday that my friend from high school who just graduated from this school in may passed the bar. this is a good sign that people actually do pass the bar from this school, and she did it in one try. i heard that it takes several. maybe for me it will.
anyways, there are some things that people shouldnt have to do if people are me. me shouldnt be in law school.
i blatently lie often. i do enjoy this experience and i love the kids i've met. its nice to have intellectuals to interact with. i feel like a big brain.
this post is bullshit.
i am going home for thanksgiving and i cannot wait. i get to see people i havent seen in SOOOO long. but i really need a haircut. i still dont have my driver's license because of the fucking DUI i got last summer. whatever.
how about i sit here and write nothing so you begin to think that my posts have no susbstance then you start to wonder if they ever really did. maybe that will force you all to read the archives from like, may, or something.
i wish i were in high school.

my recommendation to you.

do not go to law school.

this is really getting serious, like not fun anymore. finals are in a month and im going home for thanksgiving so its more like 3 weeks. i am going to fail and have to move to whichita in order to afford my cost of living to pay off my school loans which ended up doing nothing for me.
how foolish to think that it would be fun and reminiscent of my childhood to return to school. this is hell. and everyone keeps insisting that i am going to be a lawyer or something aweful like that. i went to my resume writing workshop today and they are trying to make me turn my beautiful resume (ive spent years perfecting it) into some bullshit law student resume geared toward getting a job at a law firm. bullshit i tell you, fucking bullshit.

on a less obnoxious note, my parents were just here and they love new york. im amazed that they didnt pick up on the fact that ive become a raging alcoholic but they retired to their hotel every night while i continued to go out and drink. they did notice one night when they went to a broadway show and i stayed home and sulked...(i was pmsing, listening to sade, and writing) i met up with them at dinner after the show. Before they had left for the show i had opened a bottle of wine they had brought me from napa and called to tell them it was delicious. when i met them for dinner they asked about the wine again and asked how much i had drank. i admitted to drinking the whole bottle in a matter of about two hours then proceeded to order a glass of whatever red my mom was drinking. towards the end of dinner i was excitedly talking about something, as i usually do, and they kept telling me to lower my voice because i get really loud when im drunk. im suprised they didnt realize that i had no excuse to be drunk because it was a thursday night that i had spent alone in my apartment with dim lighting and depressing music. i guess they were just really happy to see me.

im a little better now because i think im temporarily off of my drinking-every-night kick. i've switched back to weed. it relaxes me so much more and i dont get all emotional. instead i lay comatose in front of the tv until i evenutally fall asleep. its much more affective in helping me to avoid the bullshit that suffocates my life. drinking only made me think of it more and get angry about it, waking up the next morning with bruises and unknown strained muscles.

so thats about that. for today. my life is still complicated and i wish it werent, like when i was seven in the back yard up high in the tree hiding from my mom because i beat up some kid on the playground.
but no. im an old fuck now and for some aweful reason im in law school.
next time you see me,
shoot me.

my halloween weekend

so kids
i played boston this past weekend and you did not see it.
i dj'd at sweeney's BLOODFEAST which was a grand ole time on friday the 29th
on saturday night, i played downstairs at hollywood...the dyke party for those who dont know.
all in all it was good. i got to spend some good times with people i love.
shout out to gina g, miss kaisa d, and the infamous rachel...y'all are always on my mind.
it was a great weekend and the turning leaves in the bean were beautiful. sunday was the day that i REALLY did not want to leave, but i had to.
only to come home to drink makers mark by myself and spin records on halloween...great and memorable
funny how we are conditioned from elementary school to remember each of our halloween's and this one will go down in my memory as just another night...
maybe i should have stayed in boston.
fuck it. now it rains and i sip wine.
i really miss the sound lounge...
its been way too long since i stopped in for a visit.

somber

and i think the most difficult thing is to look in the mirror. to open your eyes, look into yourself, and simply accept what you see.
and people come and people go. and some people come back. and then you wonder where they were the whole time. but still others appear that you think were with you the whole time.
and along with this abstract thought of reality, you can always think of the obvious, you are alone.
you will always be alone.
when you are born, when you shit, and when you die.
alone.
but needless to say others will fulfill your life, some will clutter it and some will enrich it.
dont you miss your childhood?
as the years tack on and the same fuckhead president is "re-elected".

and sacha said i've gotten more depressed since we broke up. what does that mean?
is it true? or was i so jaded when i was with her that i didnt realize i could get depressed?
i doubt it, i was often depressed with her as well.
im just pmsing.
thats my excuse. i use that excuse three weeks before my period.
wow.
and i told you all that i needed therapy. but there are happy days, they just dont appear the day before i get my period on a really shitty rainy day.
and. my parents are here. but they are at a broadway play so i think im going to go out for a drink then meet them for dinner, even though im eating reeses puffs cereal and a glass of wine right now.
these blogs are so self fulfilling.
i love you all