blurb.

I. Rain

2006-04-16T23:56:00.000-07:00

The sidewalk was so saturated with rainwater that it had nowhere to go but into the steady river that flowed along the gutter, rushing downhill as quickly as the laws of physics would allow, gushing into the storm drain. Rain had been falling in the city continuously for three days, part of the wettest season it had been since the early 1900s. Cars were regularly backed up during rush hour traffic, and the usual shorts-and-sandals were replaced by umbrellas and galoshes.

The musty, humid scent of rain and earth permeated through the city, and in the background the subtle aroma of flowers wafted above the smell of wet concrete. Clouds hung low and seemed low enough to touch. The vibrant green of the grasses and trees popped out of the otherwise grey environment, seemingly out of place in an urban setting.

Melissa rushed home from a horrible day at work, pedaling as quickly as she could, evading doors swinging open, swerving cars, and inattentive pedestrians. She hated this part of her day. She hated Thursdays in general -- her ninth birthday was a Thursday, and it seemed to have happened as such that her own mother forgot about it.

The rain continued to come down in pails as Melissa got to her apartment building, a two-story beige remnant of the 1920s, essentially a large house converted to accomodate nine rooms of tenants. She ran inside, bike in tow, and trudged up the stairs past her dimly-lit hallway to Apartment 2C.

Inside the apartment building there was a flurry of activity; on the first floor, the tenants were organizing a friendly game of Thursday night poker, while the upstairs tenants were minding themselves as they watched reruns of Friends and ate microwave dinners. In Apartment 2C, someone had left the window open, causing a giant puddle to form across the hardwood floor.

Melissa opened the door to find her entire living room soaked. She surveyed her space, thinking, and sighed.

"It's not toobad," she said out loud.

She closed the window, avoiding the puddle that was now being soaked up by three rolls of paper towels. How could I forget to close the freaking window, she thought, when it was raining the whole day?

She soon realized that she hadn't left the window open.

Melissa then ran into her bedroom and searched her nightstand. "My ring," she said to herself, "where the hell is my ring?"

She found the ring case and opened it. Inside the small, velvet box was a note in lieu of a ring; she took it out and read it.

"You want your ring bacK?" was all the note said.

Melissa's face flushed with anger. "Hell yes, I want my ring back."

Soundtrack

2006-04-05T04:14:00.001-07:00

I remember one time waking up to you playing "Beautiful" by Christina Aguilera. It was a lazy Saturday morning, and all I wanted to do was sleep in, but you decided that setting the speakers to the loudest volume would do everyone a bit of good. I woke up a little startled, then saw you standing there, smirking, mouthing along to the words.

It was around the time when everyone loved to hate Christina Aguilera.

And then the chorus would hit, and you would sing along at the top of your lungs, and I would giggle under the covers as I rubbed the sleep off of my eyes and tried to wake up. Then you would jump back into bed, give me a kiss, and go back under the covers with me. Your legs would be colder than mine, and we'd spoon to warm them back up.

And we'd hum along until the song ended, laugh at how silly we were being at eight in the morning, and play it again. Then we'd taunt each other about going to McDonald's for breakfast, jokingly at first, then growing more and more seriously until we'd give in and go. You'd always get another sandwich on top of your meal. I would always get another hash brown. But both of us would always get orange juice, since we knew they had crappy coffee.

After eating we'd slump back into bed, turn on the tv, and snuggle, and we'd still be humming Christina. So we do it all over again until the song was planted in our head for the rest of the day.

-----

One of my favorite moments is seeing you tear up as you listened to Kermit the Frog singing "The Rainbow Connection." The song hits the part where Kermit says, "I hear them calling my name," and you looked up from your chair, and told me, "This song is so sad!"

So I kissed you and hugged you and made you feel better, and whenever I'm lonely, I listen to Kermit telling me that someday, we'll find it.

-----

You sang "Bye Bye Bye" at work. You said everyone didn't like it since it was *NSync. And then you told me, "I forget that not everyone understands me like you do."

And it made me happy.

-----

Whenever Arrested Development came on, we'd sit on the futon, and I remember raucous laughter and spilling drinks anytime we heard "The Final Countdown" because we knew something awesome was happening to GOB on screen.

-----

We were hanging out with some friends one night, and we were all just shooting the shit until someone suggested karaoke at Japantown. Three dozen beer cans later, and everyone armed with a microphone, "Hey Jude" rang in the hallways of Do-Re-Mi at two in the morning.

That was also the night that we realized "Sweet Child of Mine" was an incorrigibly long song, thanks in part to the monster guitar solo in the middle, and that everyone singing Radiohead songs in a row wasn't making for a very uplifting let alone danceable karaoke experience.

-----

We rented a car once, a Nissan XTerra, to drive around one weekend. We didn't know where we were going, but we ended up doing the hike trail at Point Reyes and Tomales Bay, and it's still one of my favorite memories in the entire world. We walked along the coastline and saw cows grazing along cliffsides. There was no traffic, just the hint of saltwater at Stinson Beach, and the shade along the Marin Headlands.

On our way home, the entire Beulah album kept us company, and I wanted to let you know how much I fell in love with you.

So I did.

-----

The last time I talked to you on the phone, it was raining, cold, and windy. I rushed to get back inside, umbrella dripping, shoes sopping from the river of gutterwater accumulating outside. We were talking about robots, then about flowers, and then singing.

And you serenaded me with a short but sweet melody, one you made up yourself that lilted up and down, "I love you and I miss you and I can't wait 'til we're together again."

I wanted to cry at how much I missed you.

hiatus.

2006-04-05T04:14:00.000-07:00

so long.

apologies.

Internal Monologue v2.0

2005-10-03T22:21:00.000-07:00

A giant explosion woke me up.

From the tv, that is. I woke up at the glorious hour of around five in the morning to see that my television was still on, and I had in my hand a copy of Robert Heinlein's "Stranger in a Strange Land" open to Chapter Three. I had only read up to the third page, and then I remembered dreaming about insane adventures.

I promptly turned my television off, and went back to bed. And then I started dreaming again.

There was the one where it was just me and my good buddy Will, and we were going nuts rock climbing in a random place where there was desert on one side and the ocean on another. We were climbing up with ascenders, randomly rappelling down the rock face whenever we felt like it, taking in this magnificent view of a red canyon desert and a cool green sea.

Will and I were talking, and all of a sudden he looked at me intently and said, "Paul, you're a horrible person." All I could do was laugh back, but Will shook his head and said it again. "No, seriously, you're a horrible person."

I felt the rope snap and I didn't stop falling. And I couldn't help smiling as I saw the rock face get taller.

Then there was the one with me and my good buddy Ian, in a car, driving around London proper, smoking our cigarettes because we're so cool like that and getting lost but it was fine since we didn't care much for the time. We eventually started just walking around, car magically disappearing, despite the weather being tragically cloudy.

We were walking somewhere around Oxford Circus, and everything froze. Time stopped, and I was the only one moving. The scene: Ian was on the pedestrian walkway, mid-way through the street, and I was running as fast as I could to get him out of the way of that speeding truck.

When I had my arms around him, time moved again. And I couldn't stop smiling when we were flying a few yards feeling the force of the truck move through our bodies.

And then there was the one with me and my good buddy Nate. We were shooting the shit like we always do in SoCal, somewhere down in Fullerton, an orange-and-white bar space peppered with people wearing orange and white clothes, drinking orange and white things, exchanging pleasantries and dancing to the tunes of an orange-and-white clad dj in the corner spinning his orange-and-white records.

Nate and I kept drinking our martinis (in orange martini glasses, of course), two olives, strikingly green in the otherwise duochromatic environment. Everything was superb: I saw people I hadn't seen in a long time, I met Paris Hilton, and all the people who ever stole my heart were in a corner of the room, staring at me.

I wanted to melt. I wanted to get the fuck out of there as fast as i could.

Then they all started to get up, one by one, edging toward our table. I was terrified.

I felt my heart explode, the blood running over all my other organs, filling me with an intense euphoria and fear. All I could do in the meantime was clutch my chest and smile big at those people whom I longed for secretly, at those people whom I've kissed, at those people I've dreamed of kissing. And in my mind I kissed them all, kissed them with all the love I had in my heart, now literally broken, yearning to breathe in that orange-and-white room of unrequited fantasy.

I felt myself die smiling big.

And it felt beautiful.

Internal Monologue v1.0

2005-09-28T23:33:00.000-07:00

I'm walking on campus, one place to another, just another day that gets marked off in the calendar. But wait a minute -- there's something about that someone in the hallway; she looks familiar. You look familiar, whoever you are. Why?

Mybe it's the green sweater or those incredibly tight jeans you're wearing that's bolstering the familiarity, but I think it's more those sunglasses perched on your head as you smack that staple gun against the bulletin. Smack, smack, thud, one more up. Flyering everywhere.

You look tired. But you don't want to stop, since you know that if and when you do, you won't ever start again. You turn around, look at me, and give me a curious smirk. You have this look on your face that's somewhere between "What?" and "I have no clue why I'm doing this anymore." You smile, for real this time. And then you turn around and keep on stapling pages over pages.

But I've met you before. You used to sit across from me in class, remember? English 1B with Musgrave, fall semester, about three years ago? You know. I was the one who was almost never there, but whenever I was, you'd sit, yes, right across from me. You had the most gorgeous smile and the most stunning eyes; the way you moved looked as if you were dancing.

I'd always imagine you like any woman in a commercial, you know, with the wind blowing through your hair and your lips glistening under an afternoon sun, in your cute little sundress while you squished your toes between blades of grass and felt the warmth of the light envelop you on all sides. Then you'd smile, then laugh, your pearly whites shining, your laughter a melodious concordance of all that is good and right. And as you walk along flowers sprout from under the ground, the air smells sweeter, and the birds stop singing because they're all so jealous of your laugh, that perfect ha-ha-hee and the quaint little chuckle that follows, that ha-ha-hee chuckle that never stops because everything else becomes funny once you start laughing and just can't stop. It never stops.

It never stops.

You would always wear that green sweater in class, even if it wasn't that cold. You'd wear it and always have to bring that white leather purse with you, and your chic pair of sunglasses that you know make you look like a fucking rock star.

And then after that semester I never saw you again until last week when I saw you flyering one of the lecture halls, wearing that goddamn green sweater, cursing under your breath that "this is so fucking stupid" and that "no one ever listens to what I have to say" as you stapled those goldenrod pieces of paper on the overpopulated corkboard.

You still had your long, flowing hair and your chic sunglasses, though both looked a little more worn than the last time I saw them. And you got rid of that white leather purse, maybe because you didn't like it, but probably because you lost it when you went to one of those too-cool-for-everyone-else sorority parties where you make out with a drunk frat guy at the end of the night.

You are probably still the bitch that you were in class. Remember when that girl Maya spread shit around about how she absolutely hated you? She'd tell me how jealous she was that you were thin and good-looking and generally well-liked, but everyone thought she was a bitch because she'd talk about other people behind their backs and would be the fakest person they ever met. It's okay. I thought she was a bitch too.

But you were something else. As soon as you found out that the "bitch was spreading lies" (if I remember your outburst correctly) you made sure she never came back to that class. All I remember hearing was that you somehow made her out to be a huge whore, and no one ever wanted to talk to her after that.

You were amazing in your craft, and I want you to teach me how to fuck someone over like that because it probably feels fucking great.

God, I want to be your boyfriend so you can abuse me. I want you to hit me, slap me in the face and tell me how much I don't deserve you and that I am a shitty person. I need you to punch me in the gut and kick me in the balls because I fucking deserve that instead of that hug or that kiss or that bruise on my left knee. Yuo know what's best, so get it over with and punch me in the face already so I taste the blood in my mouth, that lingering taste of blood that tells me exactly how much you love me.

But in a few seconds I bet I'll never see you again, because you're so much more than I am.

Hope

2005-09-26T22:31:00.000-07:00

You've probably experienced that feeling -- you know, the one where you feel as if you've known someone forever despite the fact that you just met? I felt the exact same thing with you, kid. From the first time we introduced ourselves to each other all the way to now, in three short weeks, I've made myself a great new friend, but more than that, you genuinely give me hope because I'm pretty sure you don't realize just exactly how lucky you are.

I wish I could be going through what you're going through, the whole first year of excitedness and independent trial-and-error sans Mom and Dad. I wish I could be making giant mistakes, I wish I were learning everything about everything else all over again. I wish so desperately I could turn back time and not fuck up, but I can't. And this is why I'm partly jealous of your circumstance. But this is what gives me hope.

Seeing this happen makes me so happy.

Seeing that you are innately a good person, that you don't take shit, speaks volumes. You are constantly reassuring me that you know better, and that you're not going to fuck up nearly as badly as I did.

You're like my little brother, and I love you for it, because you deal with the rest of the shit I bring with the job. You understand what it is I'm talking about but at the same time have absolutely no clue because you've never experienced it before.

You are an outstanding listener, a great conversationalist, and an even more amazing person.

And you, you give me hope that I can be a better person too.

It's how we roll.

per chance

2005-08-31T23:59:00.000-07:00

maybe it was sheer coincidence that i
yes, i
was led to the very conclusion that you
yes, you
would be amazing.

amazing? perhaps.
this i do not know.
of what i do, i know
this amazement will
not cease.

leave it to chance.
leave it to hope.

if sheer coincidence were
any more predictable
i guess wonders
wouldn't happen.

but you, yes you
make me wonder about
all sorts of things.
this isn't any different
except i, yes i
feel like i've known you
since i got here.

leave it to chance.
leave it to hope.

you give me hope.

my, my, i feel so low

2005-06-12T14:53:00.000-07:00

sunday afternoon and summer's here
where are you?
must i always be sitting,
waiting for that
phone call?

my, my, i feel so low.

guilty? why feel guilty?
you don't need
to explain
yourself
every time, you know.

my, my, where do i go?

i should try
to
breathe.

my, my, what do i know?

failure after failure
after failure after
failure.

my, my, we reap what we sow.

all of the words on a bottle of rolling rock beer in a different order

2005-06-08T18:16:00.000-07:00

by demetri martin

women, your ability to operate
extra tender
springs from birth
good machinery comes
as your contents
cause enjoyment

cash, beer, a car... rock and rolling?
during "it" the general warning:
"we may risk pregnancy
according to old problems."

your refund from the government
for alcoholic beverages?
not ok.
refund this premium beer surgeon,
because premium beer impairs taste.
a drink! to the tribute of health...
to the pale alcoholic.
rolling, glass tanks of beverages rock this lined mountain.
should the defects
of consumption
drive me...
or you.
latrobe, latrobe, col, ct, de, ia, ma, ny, vt, ca, mi
"33"

galileo

2005-05-14T15:44:00.000-07:00

the indigo girls

galileo's head was on the block
the crime was looking up the truth
and as the bombshells of my daily fears explode
i try to trace them to my youth

and then you had to bring up reincarnation
over a couple of beers the other night
and now i'm serving time for mistakes
made by another in another lifetime

how long 'til my soul gets it right?
can any human being ever reach that kind of light?
i call on the resting soul of galileo
king of night vision
king of insight

and then i think about my fear of motion
which i never could explain
some other fool across the ocean years ago
must have crashed his little airplane

how long 'til my soul gets it right?
can any human being ever reach that kind of light?
i call on the resting soul of galileo
king of night vision
king of insight

i'm not making a joke
you know me:
i take everything so seriously
if we wait for the time 'til all souls get it right
then at least i know there'll be no nuclear annihilation
in my lifetime

i'm still not right

i offer thanks to those before me
that's all i've got to say
cos maybe you squandered big bucks in your lifetime
now i have to pay
but then again it feels like some sort of inspiration
to let the next life off the hook
but she'll say, "look what I had to overcome from my last life --
i think I'll write a book"

how long 'til my soul gets it right?
can any human being ever reach the highest light?
except for galileo, god rest his soul
king of night vision
king of insight
how long 'til my soul gets it right?
'til we reach the highest light?
how long?

home is pure

2005-03-04T20:09:00.000-08:00

for a time, you really just kind of wish
the ifs ands or buts and what ifs
had all come true and you're set on anew
and you're glamming it up on 5th avenue

that they hired you for the show on mtv
and you're in new york for all to see
and then there's a record deal with the show
and a jet so there's everywhere you could go

but you sigh and you blink and you find out soon
you were dreaming in class just like a buffoon
you feel like nothing's working out great
was it destiny? fortune? luck? or fate?

there's no lesson to learn, just a simple sigh
you were going so low but were riding so high
but no matter wherever you might be for sure
you're always at home, and home is so pure.

but i thought you were just kidding

2005-02-24T19:36:00.000-08:00

m: hey, so yeah, i'm leaving tomorrow.
s: what? but i thought you were just kidding!
m: i never kid. you know that.
s: no i don't! i've known you three years!
m: well, i don't kid.
-----
m: so i told her about leaving tomorrow.
j: how'd she take it?
m: not well. she was yelling and crying and making a scene.
j: oy.
m: yeah. i thought she was just kidding.
-----
s: that bastard. and to think...
j: nah, he was probably just kidding.
s: what makes you say that?
j: cos that bastard kids like no other.
s: that bastard!
-----
m: i'll see you in like a year.
s: ha! who do you think you're kidding?
m: no one. see you in paris when you visit?
s: no! you're just kidding!
m: no, i'm not. i never kid.
-----
s: so he left for france today.
j: you're kidding!
s: shut the fuck up.
j: i thought he was...
s: yeah, yeah.
-----
j: so she totally hates me now.
m: yeah, i figured.
j: how's paris?
m: you mean boston? it's nice.
j: you're not going to paris?
m: eventually. in like a year.
j: so what the fuck are you doing there?
m: i dunno. hitting on some ivy leaguers.
j: boston? what the fuck, man?
m: yeah. she was getting really annoying.
j: no kidding.
-----
s: so how's paris?
m: beautiful.
j: this three-way calling shit is awesome!
m: i know!
s: i miss you.
j/m: i miss you too.
[laughter]
m: sigh. i miss you guys.
j: we do too.
s: hey, good news!
j: what?
m: are you gonna come visit me, hehe...
s: YES!
j: oh shit.
-----
m: what the fuck am i going to do?
j: you got yourself in this mess.
m: eh. i guess it's more fun to leave her high and dry in charles de gaulle.
j: hey, uh... you think you can spare some room in boston?
m: i was wondering when you'd ask me that.
-----
s: parlez-vous anglais?
c: non, mademoiselle.
s: you have GOT to be kidding.
-----
m: boston.
j: nice town.
m: yeah, no kidding.

Part 11: Epilogue.

2005-01-05T18:45:00.000-08:00

The service for Nate's funeral was simple, just as he had asked for: everyone in white, just his close friends and family. It was a somber yet hopeful atmosphere inside the Chapel of St. Mark's, a few minutes away from Nate's parents' house.

Joseph was late, like always, and gave the eulogy.

-----

Two years later, they all found themselves again at St. Mark's, this time celebrating Leah and Mike's wedding.

Gabriel was invited, but didn't come. He instead sent the couple a video message from his apartment building in New York City, apologizing that even it has been two years, he still wouldn't be able to look Evelyn in the eye at the wedding. They understood.

Their honeymoon was a week in Italy, full of sightseeing (whenever they left their hotel room) and magical moments they never would forget.

They named their first set of twins David and Nathaniel.

-----

Evelyn, after coming back home from the hospital that day, decided to move to California and start a new life. After the divorce papers went through, she immediately found herself excited but scared in San Francisco, finding a job across the bay at the University of California.

She and Gabriel never spoke again.

-----

David came out of the hospital fine; it was actually quite a miracle that he had no major fractures or internal bruises.

He heard from the nurses how Joseph would profess his idyllic love to him while he was comatose, and this didn't surprise him. Joseph would always hint at his attraction towards David, and David would always smile it off.

So David did what one would naturally do: he became Joseph's roommate.

-----

Right before he died, Nate wrote only three words on a piece of paper that he had clutched until his death.

It said, "Open your eyes."

Part 10. Opening.

2005-01-04T23:05:00.000-08:00

"Hey David," Nate's message began, "I just wanted to call and see how you were going.

"What I did was really idiotic. I was stupid; I shouldn't have put your life on the line like that. And I should have known better that to do something so inane.

"I don't know... I guess I'm telling you this because I'm sorry. I'm really sorry that I put you through that, and I'm even more sorry that I put the rest of the guys through that. If they're listening, I'm sorry to all of you.

"And now I tell you that I won't ever do it again. And you can be sure of that.

"I don't think I can ever handle going to prison or just being by myself. I know we always say we're always there for one another, but goddammit, I can't do this. I--

"I can't do this.

"I can't live like this, knowing I'll be in suffering every fucking minute.

"I can't live like this, David," said Nate, through sobs.

"I can't live."

A long pause. Nate was sniffling and audibly wracking in sobs on the other end.

"I'm so sorry, David."

-----

Gabriel left the hospital without incident, simply telling Joseph that he would be in contact should anything else occur.

Mike and Leah stood outside the room as Evelyn spoke with David.

"You think Gabe's okay?" asked Mike.

"I think so. He's a fighter. A chickenshit, but a fighter," replied Leah.

"I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too."

-----

Inside his room, David was sitting up, ready for his next visitor.

"You know, that Gabriel's a real asshole," Evelyn began. "Can you imagine, the nerve of the guy?"

David smiled, incredulous. "Are you serious?" he asked, eyeing Evelyn. "You're going to talk to me about that shit?"

"Why, you got a problem with it?"

"You of all people, Ev, should be worrying about nerves. Nate's out there somewhere shitting his pants because of this. And you can't bring yourself to forgive Gabriel after toying with him for ten years?"

"Shut up, David."

"Hey, I'm the coherent one here, and I was in a fucking coma!"

"Shut up, David!"

"Next thing you know, it's gonna be too late when you want him back in your life. And you're going to regret it."

And little did Evelyn know that it already was, because Gabriel had gone home, packed his things, and left a note on the bed, marked "For Evelyn."

-----

Evelyn left the hospital, leaving Mike and Leah to finally visit David.

"Hey! How you feeling?" asked Mike.

"Yeah, I haven't been asked that enough," said David.

"I see you're okay, since your sarcasm's back," said Leah.

"How about you guys?" asked David.

"We're good," said Mike, pulling Leah close for a kiss. "We're good."

"We're great," said Leah, kissing Mike.

"Oh god, cut the crapfest," joked David, "I'm gonna puke."

The sound of laughter through his open door was a relieving sound to the nursing staff on the third floor.

-----

Joseph was elated to see David alive.

He had been there when he woke up, and he had smiled. How fortunate!

He called Nate, but there was no response on the other line. He went over to see if anything was wrong.

He arrived to a chaotic, frenzied scene of police tape, spectators, and the local camera crew, filming right outside the complex around Nate's apartment building.

"What's going on?" he asked, joining the crowd.

"Some guy killed himself," replied a lady. "Overdose, they say."

Joseph's eyes filled with fear and shock. The news was too bad to be true on a day too good to be true.

Joseph closed his eyes, and listened to the wind.

"Open your eyes," it said, "Open your eyes, Joseph."

And he opened his eyes and saw Nate's body being wheeled to the coroner's van.

Part 9: Reaction.

2004-12-16T13:06:00.000-08:00

"I feel great," said David, sitting up on his chair. The previous entanglement of tubes and wiring were all gone, and he was sipping on a cup of apple juice, which tasted sweeter than he ever remembered it.

"That's good to hear," said Gabriel.

"Is Nate all right?" David asked.

"Yeah, he's home," replied Gabriel, "he's been home for a few days now.

"You know, we were all really scared that you weren't gonna come back."

David smiled. "Well I am, aren't I?"

-----

Mike and Leah intercepted Evelyn as she entered the hospital's doors.

"I think it's better for David to just relax, Ev," explained Leah. "He's a little frazzled."

"Yeah, real frazzled," Mike added.

Evelyn sighed. "Well, has anyone seen him besides one of you?"

"Nope," Leah replied, knowing full well she was lying.

"I'm going up, then."

-----

Nate got up from his study, half-asleep, and placed two more pills in his mouth. This was his sixth pill in two hours; well over what was considered an overdose.

He managed to dial David's home number, and he left a message.

Then he slept, felt his body fly, and was swept away. He lay there, not breathing, as if waiting for someone to come pick his now lifeless body up from the foot of his bed.

He planned on dying like this, but he didn't expect to die with tears streaming down his cheeks.

-----

Joseph returned to the hospital just in time to see Evelyn go up the elevator, Leah and Mike with her.

"Damn."

-----

Gabriel decided that David needed some fresh air. "I think I have to go. You look exhausted."

"Yeah. I feel great. Great and exhausted."

"Take care, man. I'll see you soon."

Gabriel rounded the corner and waited for the elevator. The doors opened, and revealed Leah, Mike, Evelyn, and Joe, who was obviously trying to catch his breath.

"Hey!" shouted Leah, "I wasn't expecting you here!"

Gabriel figured it out. "Yeah, I took the back way."

Evelyn scoffed. "You would."

She stepped off the elevator, followed by Leah and Mike. Joseph stayed inside, and gestured for Gabriel to step in.

"You know," panted Joseph, "that was a really close one."

Gabriel smiled as the elevator doors closed, and headed to the lobby.

Part 8. Movement.

2004-06-10T17:26:00.000-07:00

"You're back! How do you feel?" asked Joseph, holding David's hand.

David breathed in. "I'm okay," he replied raspily. Hearing his voice was a relief to the nurse staff and to Joseph.

One of the nurses chuckled. "I'll go get the doctor. You," she said, pointing to Joseph, "should call your other friends and tell them he's up."

"Will do," said Joseph. His smile wasn't fading anytime soon.

-----

Nate was back at his apartment, a few days after recuperating from the accident. It was slowly hitting him that he was going to jail, that he was going to serve a lot of time -- maybe even a lifetime -- in prison.

He didn't even know it was his fault until that officer told him. He remembered the night rather vaguely, like it was something he wanted to forget forever because it was marred with loss and defeat.

He remembered getting in the car while he was high on marijuana, then getting depressed that Evelyn was breaking it off. He couldn't figure out why Evelyn would do such a thing, especially since she was the one who initiated it. Then, he remembered screaming at David, then, bright lights, and then, vomiting.

It scared him every time he thought about it, that he killed some guy driving a truck and that he was going to jail for it.

He knew he deserved it somewhat, but he didn't want to face the facts.

He reached for the phone, and saw his medicine on the stand. It stared back.

He grabbed it, gave it a once-over, and opened the childproof cap. He took two pills, popped them in his mouth, and swallowed them without water.

He didn't need them anymore, since the pain was gone during his last day at the hospital. But he asked for a prescription refill since he couldn't go to sleep without them.

Fifteen minutes later, he called Mike to see how things were going, but fell asleep in the middle of dialing his number.

-----

Gabriel headed to County General as soon as he heard from Joseph that everything was going to be fine with David. He was hoping that Joseph was smart enough, too, to not call Evelyn yet, or better yet, that he had already called Evelyn so that she had already visited.

As soon as he arrived, he saw Leah and Mike in the lobby, speaking to a clerk about visiting David.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" he asked.

"Not much," Leah said, "we're good. David's back."

"Yeah, isn't it a relief?" said Mike.

"Sure is," said Gabriel.

The clerk checked something on his computer, and faced the three again. "Go on ahead. Room 415."

"We'll meet you there," said Leah. "Go on ahead."

Gabriel smiled. "Sounds good."

-----

Leah called Joseph. "He's on his way up," she said, "and Evelyn isn't here yet."

"Good," said Joseph, "you know what to do when she gets here."

"Yeah. Sounds good."

Leah hung up the phone, and looked at Mike, who was still smiling. "You know," she began, "I've always noticed that despite anything, you're the first one to smile and get everyone back on their good side."

"Why, thank you," he said.

"Yeah, but can I ask why you're always smiling?" she said, as she poked his side.

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah, I would."

"When I was seven, my mom got diagnosed with cancer. And every time we went somewhere or had a get-together or anything, people would keep asking me if I was okay. They'd think that I wouldn't know what was going on, that I was too young to know what my mom was going through. But I knew that my mom was dying.

"So they'd ask me if I was doing fine, and I was honest -- I said, 'I'm okay,' and I'd give them a smile, and they'd smile back. I was fine, I was okay. My mom wasn't but they already knew that.

"From then on every time I got asked how I was doing, I'd smile, I'd let people know I was okay all the time. It made them smile too, so they didn't have to worry about me."

Leah looked at him in the eye. "Is that why you smile every time we talk about David?"

He smiled, bigger than usual. "Exactly."

-----

"RINGRINGRINGRINGRING!"

Nate, startled, woke up by his cell phone ringing. It was Joseph.

"Hello?" he answered, groggy.

"Nate! Joe. Listen, I've got great news, David's awake."

"He is? That's good to hear."

"Yeah, so, if you wanted to like swing by later, let Leah or Mike know, 'cos they can pick you up or something."

"All right. Will do."

He hung up, and realized he was parched. He started mumbling to himself about getting water, about the lights and the horrible nightmare he had. After downing two glasses of water, he grabbed two more pills, and went to his room.

Part 7: Consequence.

2004-05-28T21:06:00.000-07:00

"You're caught up in me?" Leah asked, her hair still damp from the shower she just took.

"Yeah. Is that bad?" asked Mike, scratching the back of his head.

"No, no... it's, it's actually kind of good," said Leah. "Best thing to come out of this past week."

"Well, I'm glad it's good," said Mike, standing up and getting closer to Leah.

Leah sighed. "Can you just kiss me already?"

-----

Gabriel paced back and forth inside and outside his room, telephone in hand. He had tried calling Evelyn's cell phone, but she still wasn't picking up, and now he had the house number on display, just waiting for him to press the green button to call.

He hadn't spoken to Evelyn in days, and she really didn't want to talk to him.

"Fucking women," he mumbled to himself. "They're the ones who go off and cheat on you but in the end you're still the fucking bad guy."

He pressed the green button.

Four rings passed, and then, the answering machine. Gabriel didn't want to leave a message that made him sound desperate, but he had to, if he ever wanted to talk to Evelyn again.

"Hey Ev. Gabe. Please pick up. I know you're there."

There was only the sound of static over the telephone line.

"Please, please pick up."

He heard the other side of the line pick up, and he breathed in to talk, his heart quickening.

Then, the other line slammed the phone down.

-----

"You say sorry to someone, and you get to wait and see whether or not they take it. And the worst thing is, they can leave your apology alone because they're in fucking control," Joseph continued.

"I love you, so what, right? You know, I've seen you everyday because I think I can somehow will some part of me to help you wake back up. And when you wake up, you'll realize that it was me who helped you out this whole time, the only one who cared enough to stay by your side and watch you breathe and get better.

"You're in control, David. You're in control. And it's going to break my heart if you never wake up, because I can't stand watching you just breathe in and out and not know what you're dreaming of. You wake yourself up, because I can't do it for you.

"I'm a masochist, David. It hurts me to see you like this, but it's the brightest part of my day, because you're still here.

"I'm a consequence of you."

-----

A few more days passed, and the visits to the hospital grew more sporadic. Joseph was still the only regular -- now known by the nurses as "Smilin' Joe" because of the big smiles he had every time he went up and down the elevator visiting David -- and was the one who kept Nate somewhat updated with the goings-on of the outside world.

Nate developed a dependency on his sleeping pills and painkillers, but he hid it well from his nurses and doctors. He even got them to up the dosage on his prescriptions, and his health was good enough that he was out of County General in mere days.

-----

It was nighttime. County General was running on midnight staff, and the place was again eerily quiet.

The fluorescent lighting in the hall didn't let shadows appear on its taupe walls, and the white flooring seemed to reflect the light twice as brightly.

Room 415, the machine jungle, hummed and beeped and whirred along like it did every night, monitoring David's existence, robotic guardian angels who didn't exactly care either way if their guardee lived or died.

David was dreaming of flying. He was soaring, high, above the clouds. People looked like dots on a comic strip, forming an ever-moving print of the funnies, each dot filled with its own melancholic tragedies and heartfelt comedies.

He was above the city at night, which looked like industry and progress on fire. Urban sprawl had stretched up to the base of the mountains and as far as the beaches and the deserts, and all of it, lit by electricity, looking like embers on coal, smoldering and pulsating in vibrancy and heat.

And then, he felt himself falling, slowly at first, headed towards thereabouts of County General. He was falling, down, plummeting, hurtling ever faster to the ground.

His monitors started going crazy, and the machines let out a beeping that sent half the nurse squad to his room.

He fell, through roofs and ceilings and floors and beds, until he felt himsel hit something soft and somewhat comfortable.

He opened his eyes, and he was in the middle of it all: Joseph and a few nurses in a hospital room, all smiling at the fact that he was back.

He breathed deeply, and smiled. It hurt to smile.

Joseph grabbed his hand. "You're back. You're back!"

David felt exhausted.

Part 6: Eye-Opener.

2004-05-27T22:33:00.000-07:00

Gabriel reached for the phone, and dialed the front desk. "Could I get more towels for Room 334, please?"

After the commotion that he and Evelyn caused in the parking lot, Gabriel headed home in pursuit of Evelyn. Once he got home, though, he realized he didn't have any of his keys, and Evelyn wasn't picking up the phone nor was she answering the door.

He realized soon afterwards that it was the Marriott or the hospital again, so he booked himself a room after buying clothes in the gift shop.

As far as he knew, Evelyn was at home, thinking of the next way to punish him.

-----

"You know that feeling," Joseph began, as he walked into David's room, "that feeling you get when you're apologizing to someone? I hate that. I feel like I'm giving all of myself, and the other person's in control.

"I hate it when the other person's in control.

"And then, you know that feeling you get when you tell someone you love them? You tell them first, and then... then, there's that instance of uncertainty and insecurity that you feel for fear of them not saying back. You're giving them everything, you're telling them you love them, and there you are sitting not knowing how they'll react, whether they want to smack you or kiss you or tell you you're just friends.

"Does it make me selfish, David, that I want to tell you I love you, and not expect you to say anything because you can't hear a word I say?

"I love you, you know. And it's okay if you don't want to say anything because I know you love me too. Maybe not in the same way I love you, but I know. But you know, it makes me feel kinda better that you can't register any of this right now because, really, this is some of the cheesiest shit I've ever said.

"Besides that, though, I really do love you."

-----

Leah and Mike grabbed their stuff from camp -- the place actually looked like it wasn't even touched after they cleaned up -- and headed to Leah's apartment, both in dire needs of real food and a nice, warm shower.

In Leah's car, Mike fell asleep as he tried to count the number of petals that had fallen from the sunflower in the flower holder. He slept soundly, as Leah listened to the Beatles strum and sing about Eleanor Rigby picking up rice from the steps of the church again.

She never realized how peacefully Mike slept before, and how the light played on his face and made him seem like he was smiling as he dreamt.

-----

Nate couldn't believe it. It was his fault, like the cop said, and it was on his mind that the death of a man he didn't even know was his responsibility.

It started to give him a giant headache, and so he reached for his sleeping pills and took four. Sleep was the only thing that was going to save him now -- deal with it later, he thought, not now, not when I'm trying to get better.

Officer Rogan left his business card on the nightstand, next to Nate's medication, a constant reminder of his guilt and sudden foray into manslaughter and imminent jailtime.

It wasn't his fault entirely -- the car in front of him should have let him pass -- but the truck's appearance, and the circumstances, would land him in deep trouble.

He knew he was lying when he answered Officer Rogan's question of being on anything mind-altering while he was driving. He had rolled himself a joint at Leah's place, taking a quick "cigarette break" in the middle of the treatment meeting, and getting angry on the way back, realizing while high that Evelyn was playing him.

But that didn't matter right now, since the sleep was starting to kick in, about to send him to somewhere where he didn't care that much, and where he could escape this ridiculousness that was County General.

-----

Leah and Mike arrived at her apartment, exhausted, wrung of sleep and deprived of anything of substance for days. As soon as they stepped past the threshold of the door, they both instinctively headed towards the kitchen, made themselves quick sandwiches, and sat on the futon.

After scarfing down her sandwich, Leah took a long shower. Mike continued to catch up on his sleep on the futon, playing some Chopin to lull himself to sleep.

When the c.d. played itself out, Mike woke up, and sat up on the futon. Leah, as far as he could tell, was still in the shower.

He let himself wake up, staying on the futon, as he heard the water in the shower shut off. Leah stepped out of the bathroom, clad only in a towel, and went to check on how Mike was doing.

She saw that Mike was up, and smiled. "You're all caught up?"

Mike smiled. "In you."

Part 5: Smokescreen.

2004-05-15T22:33:00.000-07:00

It was raining hard; the storm had caught up to them and the visibility was getting more and more terrible for every mile they drove.

David was getting anxious. Nate was driving faster and faster, getting more furious and reckless. The oncoming headlights grew with the droplets of water, and the reds of the brakelights seemed to get closer and closer. The traffic on the Interstate was gtting heavier as the rain dropped faster.

"She's trying to ruin me!" shouted Nate, wiping the condensation off of the inside of the windshield.

"What the hell are you talking about?" David inquired, turning on the defroster.

"She's trying to ruin me!" shouted Nate again.

"Who's trying to ruin you?" David yelled back.

"Evelyn! Evelyn!"

"What the hell is going on?"

"I'm having an affair with Evelyn, David," Nate said, looking David straight in the eye.

Eyes growing wide, David knew he had to find out more. "How long has this been going on?"

"A few weeks."

"How is she trying to ruin you?"

"Just you watch for a few more days. She'll try to kill me if I don't--"

"Nate, LOOK OUT!" David grabbed the steering wheel, seeing that a truck was headed their way. Nate didn't have time to readjust himself; lights and tumbling and a giant crash soon followed.

David got out of the car, felt on his face that it was raining, and saw Nate hunched over the steering wheel. He stepped forward, felt himself pulled to the floor by gravity, and heard everyone gasp as he fell.

He woke up, and Nate was screaming in his ear again.

"She's trying to ruin me!"

And this was quite all right, since David didn't realize he was dreaming, and that he was reliving the accident over and over in his mind, etching and branding a capture of the accident in David's memory, some sort of mental conditioning that he was subjecting himself to.

-----

"Oh, look, he's dreaming again," said Leah, seeing David move his eyes under his eyelids.

Mike stood up from his chair. "I hope he's dreaming of something nice, you know, like babies and puppies and meadows. Things you see in a genital herpes ad."

Joseph laughed. "I'm gonna go grab myself something to eat. You guys want anything?"

Leah and Mike shook their heads, and Joseph headed downstairs.

The two were left alone in David's jungle, somewhat comfortable that Evelyn and Gabriel weren't ruining the mood and Joseph wasn't being his awkward, nervous self.

"Thanks, you know, for letting me know about this," Mike said.

"Are you kidding me? Of course I'd tell you first. I wouldn't know who to call otherwise," responded Leah.

Mike smiled. "I'm glad."

-----

"I knew from the very beginning."

Evelyn's feelings were in turmoil. She felt discombobulated and tense. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

She didn't even doubt that she and Nate were having an affair. "Gabriel, I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"You're probably right." He kept looking at his watch, as if time would go any faster if he looked at his watch more often.

"I wanted to end it," said Evelyn, "but he wouldn't let it go."

"You mean, you wouldn't let it go." Another glance at the watch.

"No, Gabriel. Listen, I --"

Furiously, Gabriel cast an icy stare towards Evelyn. "No, you listen. I know this is some fucking cosmic thing biting me in the ass for what I did to you and Nate a long time ago, but that doesn't give you the right to fuck around with some dipshit who doesn't even know how to treat a woman right, let alone drive a fucking car! I don't deserve this!"

"Maybe you do," replied Evelyn, "now that my worth is less than a car."

"I didn't mean that! You know what I mean, Nate driving and all."

"Gabriel, your best friends just got in a car accident. Be sensible. Have some tact."

"Tact shit. David can't even hear a word I'm saying."

Evelyn felt the words sting. "You are horrible."

"You destroy me, Evelyn."

"I despise you, Gabriel. Now shut the fuck up and get out of my face."

"And how are you gonna make me do that, Evelyn?"

"You will wish you never asked that question."

-----

The next morning, Leah and Mike went back downstairs to find the camp suddenly gone, save for a cleaned-up Joseph and their belongings.

"What happened to Evelyn and Gabriel?" asked Mike.

Joseph managed a smile. "It was the most horrible, terrifying, gut-wrenching hilarity that had ever ensued."

Leah and Mike gave Joseph very confused looks.

"Okay, okay, lemme explain," continued Joseph. "I get back from home -- that's where I ate, so I figured I should clean up -- and so they're arguing really loud here, right? And it's like fucking two in the morning. The night nurse tells them to shut up, and they move to another side of the lobby. Ten minutes later they're shouting again, and so an orderly tells them to get out of the lobby area. They go outside. They're arguing like mad, crazy. And then it starts to rain again."

"I can kinda tell where this is going," Mike said.

"Oh yes. It's raining. They're still arguing. Evelyn gets the brilliant idea to get out of the rain and go to her car. Gabriel's following her, right, and acting like he's going home with her in her car, but as soon as he reaches for the door, Evelyn's booked it. He got puddled, muddied, just plain dirty. And wet."

Leah tried to stifle a chuckle.

"So Gabriel's heading back inside, and he's spotted me. I'm trying to hold back laughter while he's almost in tears. He tells me, 'You guys should stay here. Evelyn and I need to sort stuff out.' And you know, how can I not agree to that? So I'm nodding my head, and he's going, 'And yeah, everyone's stuff is still there, so go look after it, huh? I guess you guys don't need your stuff as much anymore.' And he just turns around and leaves, and I'm like, what the shit, I'm left with your bags and jackets."

"Well, thanks for looking out for us," Leah said.

"My pleasure," said Joe. "But now I think it's my turn to go upstairs."

Mike nodded. "They're probably expecting it by now," he said.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," said Joseph.

As he headed towards the elevator, Joseph felt better than ever to go visit David and Nate, but he wouldn't let on to anyone his secret wish: that when David wakes up, he would be the first person he sees, and therefore the first he'll remember in a new beginning. Somewhat selfish to other people, Joseph found the thought completely normal if it were the plan to make David fall in love with him.

Grinning, he headed to Room 415, ready to tell David more of his secrets, things he never would and never could tell anyone else in this circle of friends.

He was a little too happy to be visiting a comatose person.

Part 4: Interrogation.

2004-05-14T19:06:00.000-07:00

Leah entered the emergency ward, headed towards Room 415. The nurses and candy stripers were lounging about, doing their menial, everyday tasks. Attendants in OR scrubs were scattered through the ward. Nothing was too chaotic; the biggest thing to hit County General over the last week was the car accident.

Hesitantly, Leah inched further forward to David's room, afraid of what she might see on the other side.

She finally took a step into David's room, seeing the profusion of medical equipment surrounding David's bed and attached to David's body. He looked peaceful; his hair well kempt and his face, not tired. He was dreaming again, Leah could tell -- his eyes were moving under his eyelids. Yet he didn't know he was dreaming.

"Oh, look at you," said Leah. "You must be so tired."

David breathed slowly, steadily. The beeping and whirring of all the machines around him provided a chorus of constancy in the room, eerily relaxing and strangely comforting.

She held David's hand. "What happened out there, David? You don't deserve this, you know?"

As if awaiting a response, she looked at David's face, half-expecting him to wake up from his coma.

"When will you wake up?"

-----

Two days had passed in County General, and David moved from "guarded" to "stable" condition. Relief somewhat settled downstairs at "the camp," what the nurses and clerks affectionately called the five people in the corner.

Everyone had seen David and Nate at least once -- Joseph, in particular, saw both at least twice a day -- and had realized that for the moment, everything was going to be all right. Nate would only be in the hospital for a few more days for observations, but as for David, nobody knew.

Gabriel and Evelyn were still not talking to each other, and everyday, the tension mounted and mounted. Gabriel was getting fed up; Evelyn was already mad.

Then they got on each other's throats.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me you were coming?" shouted Evelyn, startling everyone suddenly. "I had to find out from Leah that you were coming!"

Gabriel's eyes grew wide. "Because I knew you were gonna pull something like this!"

"You are a piece of work, Gabriel," replied Evelyn. "Why didn't you think I needed to know that our best friends were in an accident?"

"Of course I thought you had to know!"

"But why didn't you tell me anything?!"

Gabriel hesitated for a second, unsure whether or not he should tell her what he knew.

Evelyn looked at him, confused. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you're cheating on me with Nate."

Leah and Mike looked at each other, almost telepathically telling each other to head upstairs and get out of the scene. They left, Joseph in tow, knowing that whatever was going to happen would get around to them when the situation wasn't too awkward anymore.

Evelyn's attitude changed immediately. She grew flustered, her face grew flushed, and her speech became almost incomprehensible.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" she managed to eke out.

"I know, Evelyn. I've known for a few days now."

"Gabriel..."

"You're killing me, Evelyn. You're killing me." He looked at her, intent on not losing his gaze.

"How did you find out?"

-----

A police officer -- young, in his mid-twenties, and a little too self-confident -- entered Room 417, equipped with a notepad and a mechanical pencil. Nate knew immediately what was about to happen.

"Mr. Nathaniel Furth?" asked the policeman.

"Yes, officer, what can I do for you?" replied Nate.

"Hi, I'm Officer Rogan. I'd like to ask you a few questions about the accident, if you don't mind."

"No, no, not at all."

Expecting the worst, Nate endured no less than forty-five minutes of intense questioning by Officer Rogan, fervently taking notes and notating what seemed like every other word. There were questions about the weather, the traffic, what "exactly" happened, Nate's recollections of the incident and the consequences of the accident.

Halfway through the process, Leah, Mike, and Joseph were about to enter Nate's room, when they saw the man clad in black grilling Nate about nitty-gritty details about the incident. They veered towards David's room instead, deciding to keep David company for the evening.

Finally, the end seemed to be in sight.

"Oh. One last question."

"All right," said Nate, exasperated and exhilarated at the last sentence. "Shoot."

"You do know you're responsible for the accident, right?"

Nate looked at him with a puzzled stare. "What?"

"I assume you've heard the truck driver's dead?"

-----

Leah, Mike, and Joseph sat aroud David's bed, all of them somewhat relieved that it was quiet and that David's status was better.

"So, Joe," began Leah, "why do you come visit these two kids everyday?"

"I worry too much," he answered. "I never get to hang out with them enough in the first place, so I figured I'd hang out with them now even though David can't even hear me."

"You never know," said Mike. "He could just be pretending."

"Yeah, that sounds like something he would do," replied Joseph.

"How have things been? I haven't really had the chance to catch up with you yet," Leah said.

"They're good. Could always be better, though," said Joseph.

"How much better?" asked Mike.

"A lot. I'm screwed. The department's 'downsizing' --" Joseph made quote marks in the air -- "and I'm up for review. Basically, I'm getting fired, and I don't know what I'm doing after this. Plus, now that I'm getting fired, I'm not gonna have enough money to pay for my apartment. My mom hates me, my dad hates me, my sister hates me. Everybody fucking hates me."

"I don't hate you," said Leah.

"I sometimes hate you," said Mike, smiling.

Joseph chuckled. "I hate you sometimes, too."

"Well, shit, all right, I hate both of you," Leah said. The three of them laughed, and for the first time in months, genuinely enjoyed each other's company, vigilant of their other friend, who was dreaming of the same thing.

Part 3: County General.

2004-05-13T09:57:00.000-07:00

County General had the lingering scent of stale, sterile air; where it seemed impossible for any sort of microbe to live in its antiseptic taupe walls, where no germ could photoreact under its cold, fluorescent lighting. The staff was too nice (and at times too incompetent), and the setting felt like something out of a soap opera set.

The plants in the lobby were real, yet they felt like plastic. The lighting was too right. The computers all hummed at the same, quiet frequency. It looked as if the place had hired an interior designer to correct its feng shui, and in doing so, created uncomfortable spaces where people actually had to talk to each other while they waited.

Leah and Joseph reached the lobby and waited for Mike and Gabriel to show up. It was going to be a ridiculously long night, and none of them knew when it would even end.

Spotting an empty sofa section in one corner of the lobby, Joseph staked their claim on two sofas and two chairs, piling jackets and bags over them. Leah dragged in a coffee table, cleared it of all its prosaic magazines, and began to settle for the long haul.

Gabriel and Mike soon appeared through the automatic sliding glass doors, immediately finding their conspicuously situated friends ready and waiting.

Mike gave Leah a huge hug as Gabriel and Joseph exchanged nods of acknowledgment. As much in a rush as they were in to get to County General, they now wanted to delay as much as possible the inevitability of the next few hours.

Mike looked around at the four of them. "So," he began, "who wants to go first?"

-----

There was no parking in the emergency lot.

Frustrated, Evelyn drove to the enormous seven-story structure right next door, parked in the third floor, and rushed to the lobby, her head inundated with worry, anger, and fear all at once.

He knows, she thought, my God, he knows.

She quickened her pace and crossed the street, under the emergency wing of County General.

-----

Under a tangle of plastic vines and aluminum branches connected to giant trunks of complicated monitoring equipment, David lay.

The scene looked like a cross between an ad for Corona and a hospital: under two giant towering structures, David's bed made a hammock, coconuts replaced with saline drips, white sand replaced with white tile. No waves crashing against the shore; instead, the beep-beep of the heart monitor and the hum of its components composed the sweet summer sound in David's room. Beige walls, white ceiling -- it was as if the color palette was "shades of white." There was a sharp, distinct scent of lemon cleanser wafting about the room.

He wasn't awake, but he wasn't asleep, either.

His face was nicked with little cuts from where the glass particles forced themselves in. He had an enormous bruise on his right shoulder from the force of the seat belt through impact. All over his body, there were scratches, cuts, bruises.

The doctors had stopped the internal bleeding when they received him in the emergency room.

Miraculously, despite losing so much blood and his lungs almost collapsing, David was "in guarded condition," according to the chief surgeon.

He was in some sort of coma, drifting in and out of sleep consciousness, dreaming.

-----

Two doors down, in room 417, Nate was reclined up on his bed. Even more miraculously, even with the driver's side as the point of impact, Nate suffered only mild whiplash, a shard of glass cutting his forehead, and a pinched nerve. He had regained all feeling on the right side of his body, thankful for his luck but guilty for his inattention.

He was stable, at least. The doctors were quite surprised at his injuries, expecting worse things, but were relieved that he only sustained minor blows.

Rest was necessary, but in order to do so, he needed to take the painkillers they administered.

Sleep was a good escape.

-----

Mike stood in the middle of the group. "No takers, huh?"

Resignedly, Leah went ahead and volunteered. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

She headed to the elevators, and expected the worst as she stepped off at the fourth floor.

-----

"Anyone want anything? I'm gonna go get some coffee," said Joseph, standing up.

"I'm good," said Mike.

"Yeah, me too," said Gabriel.

Joseph searched his pockets for change. "All right. I'll be ba--"

"I'll take a coffee," said a woman's voice from behind him.

They looked up and saw Evelyn, keys in hand, at the verge of panting and wanting to slap Gabriel in the face when she saw him. She stared at Gabriel the whole time.

She smiled. "Are they all right?"

Mike shrugged. "We don't know."

Sensing the exponentially growing tension between Evelyn and Gabriel, Joseph looked for an excuse to break it. "Hey, Evelyn, you wanna come with?"

"I'd love to," she said.

All the while, Gabriel tried to avoid eye contact, but couldn't avoid Evelyn's trademark "death stare."

As soon as Joseph and Evelyn were out of earshot, Mike asked, "What's the deal with you two?"

"Nothing, nothing," said Gabriel, out of his element. "It's nothing."

"Yeah, and Nate and David didn't just get in an accident."

Mike pried, but Gabriel wouldn't budge. He gave up after realizing two questions in that Gabriel wasn't going to talk.

Joseph and Evelyn returned with their styrofoam cups, and the tension mounted yet again.

Joseph grabbed an issue of Highlights for Children from under the coffee table, leafing through the colored pictures and the words that were uncharacteristically large. As far as he was concerned, he was just waiting his turn.

Mike looked around, not wanting to deal with the drama. He eyed a vending machine on the other side of the lobby, and figured out that the best way to at least enjoy himself was getting a bag of chips and watching Gabriel and Evelyn duke it out.

He returned, noticed that Evelyn and Gabriel were still exchanging glares, and opened his bag of chips.

This is going to be good, he thought, as he munched satedly on a chip.

Part 2: Driving.

2004-05-12T14:48:00.000-07:00

"Did you see that report on t.v.? They went ahead and had Gaile Peters cover the story. You know, breaking news kinda shit. I had to down two shots of tequila before I could force myself to believe it, you know? And then you called me."

"Yeah, well, Nate had listed me under emergency contacts, apparently."

"How are they doing, do you know?"

Silence took over Leah. She herself didn't know the answer to Joseph's question.

"I'm hoping for the best."

They went downstairs, through the dimly-lit hallways of Joseph's apartment building, past the neighbor who always had loud sex, down two flights, to where the light never stopped flickering.

As soon as he hit fresh air, Joseph lit up a cigarette. He took a long first drag, thinking that Leah's definition of best wasn't exactly in the traditional sense.

They got in Leah's car, a sickly sweet yellow Volkswagen Beetle, replete with the sunflower in the flower holder. It had begun to wilt; its petals were slowly falling off one by one.

-----

After an agonizing twenty minutes of silence, Mike decided to turn on the radio, fiddling with the receiver until he reached a station that was playing music that seemed to ease the tension and fade into the background.

Gabriel, usually extroverted and talkative, was not himself. He was physically disturbed and shaken over the fact that David was -- no, might be dead.

"I'm going to kill Nate when he wakes up," said Gabriel.

Mike kept his eyes on the road. "No, you won't. Don't say that."

"How could he do this to me?"

Mike wanted to say "He didn't," but couldn't bring himself to. Instead, he turned the volume up on the FM stereo, fiddled with the receiver one more time, and near-blasted country music. Gabriel tried to hide his discomfort by pretending to sleep.

-----

"... and the Interstate now clearing up after an accident involving two men trying to avoid a truck. More on this when we get back."

Joseph turned the radio off, both he and Leah obviously disturbed by the news report.

"Were they drunk?" asked Joseph.

"No," replied Leah, sighing. "We had just finished the treatment for the script, and they were headed back to their apartment. As far as I know, Nate was sober. And David doesn't drive."

Joseph nodded.

"Man, I hope David's all right," said Leah, after a deep breath.

-----

Evelyn and Gabriel were on tough times. Gabriel knew that Evelyn was cheating on him with Nate, but he never thought that karma would actually get Nate in an accident. He actually felt kind of guilty -- in college, he and Nate were best friends, and Evelyn was Nate's fiancee. For some reason or another, Evelyn called the wedding off, but remained good friends with Nate.

Gabriel, as soon as the engagement was broken off, began to woo Evelyn into his world. They eventually got married, but Evelyn was never too passionate about the relationship as she ever was with Nate. Gabriel knew this and was never afraid to use it against her in arguments and petty fights.

He found out that Evelyn was cheating on him no more than a few days before the night of the accident. He tried to act as if everything was normal, but at almost every spare moment he had, he cursed Nate under his breath and vowed to get rid of Evelyn as soon as he had secured another job, or at least a transfer, at another location.

Gabriel didn't tell Evelyn that he was headed to the hospital, nor was she watching the t.v. nor listening to the radio. She heard from Leah that Nate and David had been in an accident, and was outraged at Gabriel's silence and immaturity.

She grabbed the keys to her Toyota and headed for County General.

Part 1: Accident.

2004-05-11T11:58:00.000-07:00

The car swerved to avoid the oncoming traffic, but the slippery asphalt careened it out of control, rolling it over once, and smashed against a telephone line.

David, almost unconscious, unbuckled his safety belt and mustered as much as he could to release himself from the mangled steel. He looked over to his left; Nate was surely blacked out, his forehead marred with a long cut, bleeding.

A small crowd had begun to gather around the scene, everyone on their cellphones calling emergency paramedics. The traffic on the once-desolate stretch of Interstate began to agglutinize, slowly but surely growing, a mass of headlights and taillights trying to figure out what had happened to cause the silver Lexus to crash against the enormous telephone pole.

David tried to survey the scene. For a moment, his heart sank for fear that Nate was dead; and all of a sudden, a rush of adrenaline propelled him to try to see if Nate was alive.

He stepped forward, and the world turned black. He was minutely awake -- he could still feel the raindrops dotting his face, and hear the chatter of bystanders -- but as he tried to take another step, he felt the weight of his own body drag him to the ground.

He heard everyone gasp as he felt himself fall.

-----

Nate blinked, once, twice, and looked up. He saw flashing blue and red lights, white cars and black cars, people wearing funny hats and shiny badges. He felt a dull sting across his forehead, and could smell petroleum and blood in the air. He couldn't move his right arm, nor could he feel his right foot... and everything began to spin.

He saw that the passenger door was opened, and David wasn't in the car.

Spinning, spinning, even though he was stationary, the scene looked more and more grotesque as four people approached him, using what appeared to him as giant pinking shears to open his door. It had finally stopped raining, noticeable only from the headlights' lack of pitter-patter shadows.

The sound was unbearable, and the steering wheel kept on moving as he tried to balance himself sitting down.

His door was finally removed, and he was relieved to feel a cool burst of air sweep across his face. But relief soon turned into vertigo when he uncontollably vomited, panicking the paramedics, making them rush to his side.

He heard medical mumbo-jumbo that he had only heard on "ER" before. Trying to concentrate as much as he could, he tried to stop his gag from inducing any more ejecta from coming out of his mouth, to no avail.

"Well, this one's still alive," he heard one of them say.

-----

Gabriel sat in his lounge chair, remote in hand, flipping nonchalantly through twelve channels of HBO. Evelyn, his wife, was reading through something on the kitchen counter, mumbling to herself as he chuckled every once in a while.

The phone rang.

"Hello?" answered Evelyn, still reading through her catalogue. "Yeah, he's right here. One second."

She handed the phone over to Gabriel, who was still engrossed on a documentary about the Masa'i in Kenya. "It's Mike."

Gabriel gladly took the phone from her hands, smiling at her as he did. "Hey! What's up, Mike?"

"I just got word from Leah that Nate and David got in an accident," Mike said, sullenly. Gabriel was stunned.

"Jesus Christ, what happened?" asked Gabriel, the urgency in his voice rising steadily.

"I don't exactly know. From what Leah told me, they had just come from her house, on their way home or something, and all of a sudden they crashed on a telephone pole trying to avoid a truck or something. It just started raining, the road was slippery..."

"Jesus."

"The worst thing is, David might be dead," continued Mike.

Gabriel was speechless.

"They're at County General right now. I'm supposed to meet Leah and Joseph there -- did you want to come along?" asked Mike.

Taking a few moments to collect his thoughts and catch his breath, Gabriel nodded and faintly agreed.

None of them knew what was going to greet them once they passed the thresholds of County General.

case of the mondays

2004-05-10T15:52:00.000-07:00

seems as if
someone's got a case of
the mondays.

how horrible an ailment.

and no cure, either,
until tomorrow comes along.

feels as it
there's a contagious case of
the mondays.

what a horrible state to be in.

and no cure, either,
until we're out of sight
and out of mind.

the mondays
are sad days --
often bad days.

sad, bad, mondays.

lyrics to a song

2004-05-07T21:15:00.000-07:00

ten second intro.

first verse,
first line, second line, rhyme.

chorus
for the very first time.

second verse,
third line, fourth line, rhyme.

chorus
for the very second time.

bridge --
something odd in the meter --
instrumental.

key change?
key change.

chorus
for the very third time.

half a verse
one line with the same rhyme.

chorus
for the very fourth time.

f
a
d
e

o
u
t
.

yellow moon

2004-05-05T21:09:00.000-07:00

yellow moon
staring up above.
what have you in store?
yellow moon
making silly circles.
whom are you smiling at?
yellow moon
shining brightly.
aura of mystery,
mystique of persistence.
pervade, pervade.
yellow moon
stare.
yellow moon
glare.
yellow moon
don't ever set
and make me cry.

classic (ut pictura poesis)

2004-05-02T23:51:00.000-07:00

fiat lux:
amor vincit omnia,
exitus acta probat.

amicitiae nostrae memoriam spero sempiternam fore.
omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis.

brevis esse laboro, obscurus fio.
paucorum est intelligere quid donet deus.

et nos cedamus amori.

let there be light:
love conquers all,
the end justifies the means.

i hope the memory of our friendship will be everlasting.
all things are changing, and we are changing with them.

i strive to be brief, and i become obscure.
it is granted to few to comprehend what god gives.

let us too give in to love.

virgil
ovid
vulgate

cicero
lothar i

horace
syrus

virgil

on a cool summer night

2004-04-28T21:23:00.000-07:00

breeze.

the stars are out, and the clouds are
nowhere in sight.
the stars shine bright.

it's quite brisk on this
cool summer night.

breeze.

i can stay here forever wrapped
in your embrace,
kisses on your face.

i'd rather be in
no other place.

breeze.

the music of the season playing
into our ears.
there's nothing to fear.

just as long as we
hold each other near.

breeze.

the pale moonlight bathes the bay.
the mists move in at the end of the day.
and we realize both we have none to say.

breeze.

funny how we find ourselves wanting
on a cool summer night where the silence is haunting.

and the tension in the air is almost as it's taunting.

breeze.

taking pictures

2004-04-27T21:04:00.000-07:00

i wonder why i don't have
many pictures of either of us
because i actually do
like looking at pictures.

i guess i like knowing
that you'll always be there
on that slip of paper
despite any situation.

i know that even when
we're not taking pictures
you'll make me smile
because you're just like that.

it's even better when
i see you face-to-face
since then, we have smiles
plastered on both our faces.

and by that time,
we'll have taken countless
pictures in our heads,
ingrained in our memories forever.

taking pictures is
one of my favorite
hobbies --
especially when i'm with you.

i just planned the rest of my life

2004-04-26T17:15:00.000-07:00

i just planned the rest of my life
by clicking "submit" on the
online registration of classes.

i am going to be a linguist.

i've never been so certain
of anything so big and demanding
but it looked good at the time
so here i go with half of my fall schedule in place

and the beginning of the rest of my life in place

check the appropriate box for
the major you are declaring,
said the form

and who knew i had to fill out a form
for intention
of declaration
for concentration?

college is halfway done,
but my life's still just begun.

the weather's nice

2004-04-25T22:18:00.000-07:00

the weather's nice, it's been warm these past few days
i never thought i'd have to wear shorts this early
and i thought that being in berkeley would leave my wardrobe
with jackets and spoortcoats and sweaters so burly

the arrival of the heat signals the arrival of the skin
bits of fabric covering strategic places
sororiticians and girls who can pull it off
not to mention i'd rather look at those than their faces

but that's when it's noon and it's fine and dandy
to walk around campus on flips and on flops
but if it's eighty degrees in my fucking apartment
one little bite and morality drops

because i've heard many people say that they're horny
i guess that comes with the coming of spring
i don't want to hear it since it doesn't concern me
nor do i want to hear much about how they do their thing

it's still eighty degrees, the fan's on, window's open
there's no breeze to blow, nor relief that's in sight
so i crack open a beer and sit out where the moon is
because i might as well enjoy the yellow moonlight

summer in berkeley's a thing to behold
the things you will see you will never forget
from tour groups to telegraph to bums in the street
to dogs wearing glasses or a tie-dye dining set

but it's only the spring and it feels somewhat wrong
to feel this warm and to feel so nice
it rained for a bit just a few days ago
but i fathom a few days of rain would suffice

since it gives me more time to think about us
and what we'll be doing in a few days' time
i guess we'll sleep in and you'll kiss my cheek
as i write and recite my pointless summer rhyme

now a cool breeze is blowing and it smells like laundry
the room is still warm but it's better, at least
i will see you soon, in fine weather, i'm hoping --
now what rhymes with hoping? kiss. oh, you silly beast.

lullaby kisses

2004-04-24T21:37:00.000-07:00

if i weren't so scared,
i would tell you right now that
you just make me smile.

i would like to kiss
every inch of your body
bit by bit by bit.

i know that you're not
but i tend to think sometimes
you're torturing me.

you torture me by
plainly acting like yourself
and i melt in that.

music on paper.
you lift my melodies up
and sing me to sleep.

lullaby kisses
and sweet, sweet satisfaction
make you feel so good.

refusal

2004-04-23T21:37:00.000-07:00

there's a certain feeling of

empowerment

that comes with saying
NO.
nothing lost;
in fact,
everything to gain.
but i think the matter
comes in the latter
when the chit-chit-chatter
gets fatter and fatter
until, of course,
the NO comes.

NO.

feeling great.

and no remorse. how awesome?
very awesome.

NO.

fantastic word to say.

they say

2004-04-22T10:44:00.000-07:00

he said, she said
gossip this, rumor that.

well i heard from him
and he heard from her
who's best friends with her
and she knew him
and so he told her
and she told him
and then it got to me

you expect me to believe this?

but seriously she told me
and then i tried to keep
my mouth shut
but she didn't, oh
that bitch didn't
so she told him
and he told her
and she told her
and she told him
and he told her
and she told him
and he told him
and he told her

no. he didn't.

it's what i heard.

crying

2004-04-21T10:40:00.000-07:00

i've wondered sometimes
that when it rains
is it god crying?

i can only imagine what he cries about.

broken hearts, broken dreams.
shattered hopes, lack of faith.
i think he cries because there
is no more hope.

whenever the skies turn grey,
and whenever i smell the earth
churning in anticipation,
god's about to cry.

he's been doing it a lot more often these days.

and i would think
those are just the
little things.

don't cry, god.
we don't have a big enough tissue.

happy birthday hitler

2004-04-20T09:29:00.000-07:00

the terrorists are winning.

day by day,
countless lives are being taken away
for the sheer display
of guns and
i'm better than you.

afghanistan
iraq
vietnam
korea
devastated.

people die everywhere.
but not when they're
supposed to.

big-eared nepotistic presidents
control the balance of the nation
and ultimately, the world
and that is so harrowing to say.

we're not playing any games here.

day by day by day
we live more and more in fear
pointing fingers
placing blame on whomever wants to take it.

and somewhere,
a half-german nazi with a square for a mustache
is smiling
because fear is starting to win.

happy birthday, hitler.
the terrorists are winning.

every time i talk to you over the phone

2004-04-19T00:09:00.000-07:00

every time i talk to you over the phone
my hands get cold
my forehead starts to sweat
and my heart beats faster
like it's a fight-or-flight response

i've known you for two years,
but i still get butterflies when i hear your voice.

i just imagine your lips moving
producing those sounds
kissing me with those waves of noise
that come through with clicks and blips
thanks to the telephone

it sends chills down my spine.
you do it
every time i talk to you over the phone

i think it would have been better

2004-04-18T07:36:00.000-07:00

i think it would have been better
if i just told you i loved you
right from the start
because i'm a huge coward
and i don't know how to
do that otherwise
because you somehow
scare me so much
and i can't really put a finger on
how you do that to me
because every time i think
about it i shake and i almost
have a nervous breakdown
but you understand why

right?

because every time i
kiss your lips i
feel a little high.
sigh.

or every time you're in my arms
i try to ignore how you charm
just by giving me a smile.
sigh.

i think it would have been better
if i just told you from the start
that i loved you
because i wouldn't have to write this
and give it to you later
because i'm such a coward
i probably wouldn't have given it to you
anyway
now that i think about it
and now that i think about it
i shake and shake and
have a nervous breakdown
but i think
you understand why
you make me feel so high

burnout

2004-04-17T01:17:00.000-07:00

evergettoapointwhereyoucan't
seemto
f o c u s
onanythingexceptthewonderfullybanal
andequallymeaninglesstrivialthingsthat
everydaylifetriestoofferwherethedays
blurthemselvesslowlybutsurelyandsteadily
goddamnthatsteadily

breathe. in. out. breathe.

butjustassteadilyasyoutrytohoneinand
f o c u s
yourealizethatyoucannotevendothe
simplestmenialtasksofnoconsequence
washingthedishesisaharderchorethan
changingthechannelonthetelevision
anddoingyourhomeworkisnowapastime
insteadofatimehonoredpenanceforschool
andyettimeandtimeafterwardsyoustillcannot
f o c u s

crashthenburnnotburnthencrash
butmoreoftenthannotwhatendsup
happeningtoyouisexactlythelatter
andtheformerlaughsatyoubecause
youcannotdoasinglethingaboutit

burnout

itisacommandnotadeclaration
sodoitalready

proof

2004-04-16T15:52:00.000-07:00

looking at a bottle of some
daunting
bacardi 151.

i can just imagine
how it's going to
burn
going
down.

(and how my
liver
is going to hate me.)

i've always wondered why
proofs
of alcohol are double the percentage.

maybe it's a measure
of their worth?

what would that make
me?

at least 200, i hope.

and i wonder too

how someone looks
and thinks

"i can just imagine
how he's going to
burn
going
down."

missing

2004-04-15T09:59:00.000-07:00

phone's ringing.

hello?

hey.

what's up?

i miss you.

me too.

just wanted to say hi.

sigh.

awkward silence.

i'll see you soon?

yeah.

phone's hung up.

sigh.
sigh.

transitory utopia.

2004-04-14T10:47:00.000-07:00

i can smell the cigarette
you just smoked a few minutes ago.
i can see the cynicism
in your eyes, the tired look on your face.
i can feel your finger, at
this spot where you burned yourself once.
i can taste the alcohol
swirling in the bottle...
i can hear the humid night
turn a blind eye, and say 'forever.'

deeper and deeper into the darkness
i spiral out of control.
up,
gasp,
up,
gasp,
reach --

GASP

-- to no avail.

the darkness surrounds.
warmth, a smile,
a nice memory,
feeling a cold burst of air
settling on my skin.
the taste of the alcohol gets stronger.
the smoke lingers longer.

i'm so scared.

bit by bit by bit by bit
i'm in this for
i don't know anymore
and i don't care.

wisp of smoke
ash floating in the breeze of night.
transitory utopia
thanks

for taking me there.

sonnet to london

2004-03-28T20:31:00.000-08:00

can you imagine souls of riches past
embedded here, entombed within these walls?
and time and time again the years fly fast
so man's attempt at happiness just falls.
in london town, there's just so much to see --
the lay, the noble, palace grounds, the poor,
the street performers, beggars, you and me --
and can't experience all in one bus tour.
but that's what makes dear london so unique:
the streets that don't align and roads that bend
give off an aura that one wants to seek.
and with its love, on journeys, it will send.
i know for sure i'll miss it in my heart --
but in my mind, we're not that far apart.

conversation with god

2004-03-14T20:47:00.000-08:00

on a jesuit hymnsong by fr. manoling francisco, sj.

if there's one more gift i'd ask of you, lord,
it would be peace here on earth --
as gentle as your children's laughter,
all around, all around.

your people have grown weary
of living in confusion
when will we realize that neither
heaven is at peace
when we live not in peace

if there's one more gift i'd ask of you, lord,
it would be love among man
as pure as all the angel's voices
all around, all around

grant me serenity within
for the confusions around are mere reflections of
what's within
what's within me

if there's one more gift i'd ask of you, lord,
it would be truth in all i see
as powerful as how you saved us
all around, all around

why miguel hasn't "written" much in over a year.

2004-03-10T01:01:00.000-08:00

you might notice that the poems here are separated clearly by about a year of inactivity.

call it what you must, but i decided to not write any poems in that span of time, from early march of 2003 until mid-march of 2004. many things had been going on, and i felt like poetry wasn't an adequate enough way of expressing myself because it felt a bit too repetitive and trying.

i've missed it.

and then i remembered how liberating and exhilarating this medium was, and here i am, writing to you, dear reader, about my intentions, which whould be nothing short of the following: self-expression, social awareness, frustration, opinionating, and of course, qualitatively evaluating my existence as time dictates where i am.

and you, dear reader, i plead two things: to read, and to critique.

as my voice is heard, make yours.

give me a blurb.

sometimes i wish i never met you

2004-03-02T21:05:00.000-08:00

sometimes i wish i never met you
for lack of better things to say
because you somehow manage to
every time, make me feel like a

lovefool
lovefool.

and in that time i can't ever say
how you feel or what you're thinking,
but you're probably smiling and
five steps ahead of me when you make me

sigh, drool
sigh, drool.

you know you're in my dreams at night
and in the morning when the sun greets hi
when the chill of the night sends a chill down my spine
and thinking of you does it twenty more times.

oh me, oh my.
oh me, oh my.

sometimes i wish i never met you
because you make me feel so good
and i'm a pessimist.
so in my mind, it'll never work out.

it's too much for me.
soon i hope you'll see

why i should never have met you.
we're never meant to be.
look at how different --
SAME -- we are.

i think i know you know.
you think i know you know.

sigh. drool.
lovefool.

multiple personality disorder

2003-07-07T16:19:00.000-07:00

hello.
passive.
smiles happily.

hey.
sociable.
grins sneakily.

how do you do.
shy.
shakes hands firmly.

what?
aggressive.
glares madly.

shut up.
apathetic.
fumes silently.

how are you.
vulnerable.
melts in your eyes dreamily.

what's up.
theatrical.
puts up fronts so well.

(nod)
(blink)
(bites lip)

miguel.
is.
so.

La respuesta al Nocturno de Silva.

2003-04-11T16:12:00.000-07:00

Me has confundido.
Veía su sombra, afuera.
Estaba cantando de nuestra vida,
con uno a otro,
pero nada, nada, nada,
nada,
nada de ti a mi lado.
La luna mi mira.
Proyectó sus rayos –
me enloquezo.
Caminaba.
Caminaba por el sendo
y no tuvo nada de tu sombra.
¿Dónde está tu sombra?

¿Dónde estás tú?

if poets couldn't

2003-03-11T16:11:00.000-08:00

if poets couldn't write,
singers wouldn't sing,
music would fall deaf
to blind ears and deaf eyes.

if poets couldn't write,
hearers wouldn't listen,
kisses wouldn't be as sweet
as they are on loving lips.

if poets couldn't write,
dreamers wouldn't dream,
feeling grass between my toes
would never feel as good as now.

if poets couldn't write,
thinkers wouldn't think,
the sun on your face wouldn't be
as warm and friendly.

if poets couldn't write,
children wouldn't grow up,
the cold realization of life
wouldn't stare them in the eye.

if poets couldn't write,
lovers wouldn't love,
loneliness would permeate
every essence of their being.

if poets couldn't write,
the world would be so
s i l e n t
and so deafening.

but i'm glad that poets write.
they tend to set most things right.

tomato

2003-02-14T16:10:00.000-08:00

splat.

love sucks.

and you're in the back
wringing each and every
fiber of my being
dry of existence.

smush.

love hurts.

and here you are
oblivious
to everything you know
since you assume so much.

slice
bleed
wait wait wait...
dizzy.

e v e r y
th i n g
i s
s p i
n n i n g
fa s t er an d
faster
and faster yet
stop
fall
close my eyes

everything's going to be just fine
that's what the doctor told them

click
sleep
never waking up
except in your dreams

snap
things can change so fast

mango

2003-02-07T16:09:00.000-08:00

hearts are so easily broken.
take mine as your subway token

to the underground where you'll see
it's hard to love.
i feel so alone up here above
the floor.

calypso sunsets start the night
which taste of sweet air
and blind persistence.
a kiss, a caress, an embrace
in those arms,
on that face,
smell the summer warmth in
the auburn hair.

your eyes are so green
waiting to ripen
under the humid noon sun.

and the subway keeps going underground
waiting for people.
is this fleeting?

he laughs.
she smiles.
the harmonious laughter echoes
and another heart is broken.
so easy, and so tough.

underneath that pale exterior
the subway runs
and waits for broken hearts.
how you can't split them in half
but in thirds:
one for you
one for the other

and the last piece utterly destroyed
lost forever in
a stream of consciousness
in the lilting summer
devoured by forgetfulness
banished by common sense.
how we wish to get it back,
but we never can.

so easy, yet so tough.
love can be so rough.

o moço

2003-02-02T16:08:00.000-08:00

só estava olhando
que está nessa praia
quando ela caminha
que vi a beleza
uma pérola branca, no centro do mar
olho a coisa mais linda
e a sua luz que brilha
e tudo não importa
por que ela não é sozinha
mas que nada eu lhe quero amar
ah, si eu tenho a coragem
ah, meu coração quer um viagem
ah, sou covarde horrível
um covarde que não tem aceitado
que é possível não ser calado
na próxima vez que ela passa
vou estar mais educado
vou sourrir e vou apresentarme
e fico namorado
como ela passa...

avocado

2003-01-31T16:08:00.000-08:00

heroes unsung
amid the sea of tastes.
many of them are women.

unappreciated,
overworked,
overlooked,
underestimated.

but who does that now, you ask?

when green and yellow
could never come together
at once they did.
and they do
and it is good.

different tastes,
new experiences.

you haven't.

get ready, but don't
brace yourself.
it will be subtle. you'll smile.

things will stay the same --
pretty
much.

taste it.
it's here.

kiwi

2003-01-24T16:07:00.000-08:00

look deep.
what do you see?
nothing, you say.

outside.
what do you see?
ugly, you say.

now notice
how everyone sees
a different type of you.

outside
see the ugliest face
or the most stunning profile.

inside
a heart of gold
and a mind so bright.

when will you
see your own light?
shine so bright.

hide what you must.
keep it inside.
outside, you are different.

you know not
what you don't see.
you

are
what you're
not.

grape

2003-01-17T16:07:00.000-08:00

stick together, girls. it'll do
much better when you
stick it out in the long run.
when the day is finally done
and the new sun starts to rise,
that's when you'll surely realize
how to figure out this sordid little
life of ours. in the middle,
that's where we'll be. stuck.
wondering when our luck
will run out. if even that.
picked off our place in the drop of a hat.

one by one, we fall apart
quickly. they aim straight for our hearts,
straight for our guts.
no ifs, ands, or buts
because we are better than this
life they've given us.

no menial housejob will
do. you can do whatever it takes, still,
it takes time.
but once it's reached, it's so ever sublime.

stick together, girls, it's nice --
no one's telling you otherwise.

banana

2003-01-10T16:06:00.000-08:00

the golden luster of her skin
reminds you of cool summer breezes,
and the song of the wind
lilts so as she pleases.
she is scared.
she has dared
to venture out and explore
the world around her. more
and more she sees things so clear.
but no one must know, no one must hear.

no one must know, no one must hear --
her exploits have driven most all to fear.

and so he found out at one junction in time.
what was she to do then?
she ran... until this serious crime
was committed: her end.

he beat her senseless.
she could not look him in the eye
nor scream
nor cry
nor fight back.
her skin bruised brown and black
aching, swollen, broken.
inside she felt like mush.
as if she had been worth nothing,
no seed to sow,
no life to live.
she could not take it anymore.
she ran towards him and fought back
and punched and yelled and kicked
harder than ever
and gave up.
a final blow to the face
split her skin open, wounding her precious
sweet truth.
there was mush.

and there was nothing to live for.

strawberry

2003-01-03T16:06:00.000-08:00

the sunset in your eyes:
what a nice surprise.
the calming afternoon glow
is as soothing, so --
my heart smiles and warms.
what a beautiful charm.
your face, so naive, so innocent.
pleasant surprise for what spent
and that you deserve.
if only he had the nerve...

kindness does not fall far from the tree.
the challenge is in finding it, see.
staring you in the face, you're quite unaware
to find the spectacular things that are there.
like truth and the beauty, free it shall make you feel
and find peace in yourself, that love really is real.
love blossoms in the vine, so close to the heart:
a wonder how you didn't notice from the start.
unknown to your eyes he was holding your hand;
unknown to your heart he will surely understand.
of swift fortune and luck to have found two so true.
a kiss on the cheek, whisper 'i love you.'

a whirlwind romance of intricate detail
woven into and out of by friends in the hail.
to see you so happy, so sweet and in love
both smiling like strawberries in heaven above
we've yet to see frowns, and i hope we never do:
as long as the strawberries never turn blue.

sweet as the sweetest, taste me so fine.
make me feel so ever sublime.

pineapple

2002-12-27T16:05:00.000-08:00

so many eyes...
does she see the truth, or does she lie?
can't find unless you try.
so many...
prickle prickle prick,
tension in the air so thick.
impenetrable to the words of
disaster and death.
who knew she could
be so
sweet and tempting and juicy
like life's gossip,
oozing rumor and drama out of
every
last

drop?

how is she
so tough,
so delicious
like a summer sun
bejeweled in
the moment:
tropical breeze
swaying the hammock, lazy?
so many eyes.
she kills when she smiles.
how do you do that?

sweet to the eye,
sweet to the soul,
sweet to the tooth,
sweet to the core.

how are you so tough?

'my mother.'

you are so perfect.

orange

2002-12-20T16:04:00.000-08:00

bright and bold and big and juicy,
married mistress of the sun.
a love affair she does have, you see --
with the neighboring citrus' son.
stars above and light below:
silver sheening silently.
illuminated by moon's glow
not one sound as to violently
disrupt the fragile sheet of time.
she blossomed as a flower white.
drawn in by the aura of that one lime
seduced the green with all her might.
the orange, bright and bold and brassy,
bore her soul for all to see.
'his eyes are mine or fall down does he,'
cursed the orange gleefully.
the lime, transfixed, with all his power
stood up still and stared, intense.
and in that one ungodly hour
felt emotion so immense.
'i love her blind,' the lime had spoke,
her upper hand to strike the fear.
'i love her true, that is no joke,'
and with her madness she did adhere.
a few days, gone, transformed entirely
into Temptress, smoldering hot.
the lime could only gape and smile,
knowing of her marriage he did not.
a smile, a tear, a wave, a kiss.
the lime turned ripe for orange's lips.
and in her soul, a dark abyss:
not one kind soul in all her tips.
then, sunrise of the fifteenth day
brought on a maddening, blistering heat.
the sun had seen what mischief lay:
disloyalty, his heart skipping a beat.
'with all my heart and all my soul
did trust with you i fully did!'
the orange smiled, her eyes like coal.
'my love for you, i merely hid
behind a curtain of despair.'
the sun turned white-hot in contempt.
'burn us both with driest air
you will,' she said as an attempt
to save her life, and solely hers.
the lime was only a simple toy.
the sun did smite without a curse:
the lime had fallen, without joy.
to doom and darkness, he had tumbled
driven mad by heat and pain.
hiding truth and motives jumbled,
trick the sun, she did, again.
'the mistress of the sun will shine
for all eternity until
grapes could no longer produce wine.'
the sun would smile. and hold his still.

the orange did deceive the lime
but how will you fare in your time?
the orange cheated yet survived --
and more than once she had imbibed
the drink of gods, the sun's great kiss.
something sure was here amiss.
the orange smiles and lives on so.
will you, our lime, to all depths go?

apple

2002-12-13T16:04:00.000-08:00

the apple laughed a sweet
laugh when she did meet
this one surely polite
(he claims he doesn't bite)
creature by the branch
that she was by. 'can't
see yourself in pictures, eh?'
she said to mr. worm. 'they
just don't seem to want to hear
the whole story,' he said. 'dear
worm,' the apple said. 'i like you.'
he blushed and hugged and blew
the apple a kiss. 'you,' he said,
'you, i adore,' and fed
the apple much to her heart's content.
the night to come was much different.

'lalala' the apple sang, waiting for
the worm to swing by and tell her
how beautiful she really was
and how ripe and juicy she does
make him feel. wait and wait she
did, but nothing came. a simple bee
buzzed by, but all he said was 'hello.'
the apple cried and screamed high and low
until she felt her insides rip
apart like melting wax, making her tip
to a side of the branch she had
never been on. she choked so bad
and could do nothing but accept
her untimely fate: she fell, and she kept
falling to the ground, a prospect of new
life in exchange for sweet death. to
the ground, splat, roll, maneuvering with ease
and grace. once on the floor, her soul released
itself from the juicy mess that was life and
redemption. from her profile, a single bend
on her elegant twig. and next to it,
a violation of her most private being: lit
by the sheen of the setting sun
a hole in her side, penetrated, open, left to rot and run
under the glow of nighttime. and out of the corner
of her eye, movement -- running for the border
was the culprit! and none other than the most
intimate of beings was her violator: the worm, post-
haste, savoring in the moment, relishing in the glory
that was taking the apple's innocence. surely
it was a mistake, a hapless incident, but in all
truth, it was the worm, smirking. appalled,
she dug herself deep into the ground, weeping.
the rape of the apple had led to her death, keeping
the balance of nature's goodness in the right.
she wept until she saw light.

faded photograph

2002-12-12T16:03:00.000-08:00

sifting through the contents of my stuffy attic room
searching through the boxes that this dust has but consumed
come across some treasures i was sure i'd never see
showing me the life back then of how it used to be:
simple and amusing as a dandelion head
not remembering any mumbled words i ever said
running through the park midday, and losing all my breath
oldness often brings too swift the blow, and childhood's death.
friends that share a lifetime of the fondest memories
set on ink and paper, and a picture by the sea.
black and white, the picture is, on dull sepia glow
'friends forever,' both had said, 'still, when the times are low.'
back i look, and now i find myself near choked with tears
wishing that i had once more the glory of those years.
wonder is the only thing that i can do sometimes --
think of silly things to write and write poetic rhymes.
when i look back at those faces on that portrait blurred
memories come flooding back, my body whole is slightly stirred.
once i see a friendship of the greatest magnitude
now i am left with guilt and sorrow of such amplitude.
reading through your letters i can only sigh and mope
future might seem bleak, but our realtion still has hope
flash and 1, 2, 3 did follow our perfected smiles
all we're left with is the anguish and between us, many miles.
ask of you i do this simple, yet, important wish:
hold my hand, and take me there, and we shall go to bliss.
on the faded photograph, 'i'll see you soon enough'
never did i understand your sweet and sorry gruff.
realizing that i've spent much time remembering the good
rushed and stowed the contents of the past misunderstood.
took away the picture of the pair, of you and me
closed the attic door and hid away the golden key.

gray and brown, the picture stood, alone against the wall.
never did forget to catch me when i had to fall.

all is lost and now forgot, the picture in the wind.
forgive me once, you never did, when i did to you sin.

la suite des saisons

2002-11-13T16:02:00.000-08:00

i. printemps.

les fleurs fleurissent,
les oiseaux chantent,
l'eau noie ma mémoire.

comment j'ai aspiré à voir la générosité du printemps.

les oiseaux dansent,
les enfants rient,
mon coeur casse une plus de fois.

comment cruelle est la tendresse du printemps.

elle donne naissance aux choses merveilleuses.
elle rend lui des enfants heureux.
à la vérité et pourrait elle offre adieu.

comment affreux est le printemps.

ii. été.

la chaleur mauvaise infiltre la scène.
le vert est plus vert qu'il a jamais été.
l'été a été,
l'été a été.

le vent souffle au nord et envoie le danger,
effrayé de ce qui pourrait se produire aujourd'hui.
l'été a vu,
l'été a vu.

le soleil et la lune et tous les étoiles jouent,
ignorant du malevolence qui vient à leur rencontre.
l'été a su,
l'été a su.

il est fatigué et fâché et frustré de l'amour
parce qu'il doit supporter cette douleur d'apparence vague encore.
l'été a pleuré,
l'été a pleuré.

iii. automne.

chute rouge et rose et orange vers le bas,
vers le bas,
vers le bas...
le gris peint la couleur du soleil.
l'odeur de la saleté battant ci-dessous,
ci-dessous,
ci-dessous...
il me rappelle les promenades vives l'après-midi
quand je me rappellerais au sujet du foyer
et le crépitement du feu dans la cheminée.
le sentiment du béton humide
évoque des mémoires d'enfance.
la vie était si simple alors.

iv. hiver.

la chaleur est allée,
le rire s'est fanée,
là n'est pas plus
de tout est morte --
tout est silencieuse.

il est trop silencieux.

la neige enveloppe la vie
là n'est rien mais le froid.
le soleil sourit,
la lune célèbre,
les étoiles applaudissent.

il est trop silencieux.

je m'assieds dans la neige.
je regarde vers le haut le ciel de nuit
il y a une montée subite de lumière --
le temps s'arrête.
il y a un sourire sur mon visage.

il est trop silencieux.

le soleil

2002-11-12T16:01:00.000-08:00

le soleil pleure.
il veut être a aimé.
il doit être a aimé.

j'espère qu'il pourra voir ce que
je vois.
je vois le soleil,
fort, chaud, heureux.

il s'inquiète trop.

et c'est la raison pour laquelle
il a cessé le chant.
il avait l'habitude de chanter tellement
admirablement.

je pense que le soleil
ne brille pas.
il pleure.

il pleure seulement maintenant.

la lune

2002-11-11T16:01:00.000-08:00

quand la lune brille
et touche mon oeil
je me demande.

je me demande ce que je pourrais faire
pour faire l'arrêt de temps
et pour vous inciter à comprendre.

je me souhaite ai su tout.

un froid fonctionne à travers mon épine
et je m'arrête.

je m'arrête.

je meurs.

la lune sourit.
elle ne se demande pas plus.
elle ne veut pas plus.

parce que la lune brille
je meurs...

je me sens la culpabilité
parce que la lune brille.
elle continue au sourire.

je disparais tranquillement dans la nuit.

la nuit fait écho l'allumette.
une bougie allume
et élucide l'obscurité.

mon âme est perdue dans l'obscurité.

aidez-moi à la trouver encore.

sin título

2002-11-08T16:00:00.000-08:00

discúlpame
si quieres.

todo lo que
puedo hacer
es esperar.

cuando
las palabras
se escapen de
tu boca, de tu voz...

espero que
las palabras
me liberen de
mi tristeza.

escribo una nota
en mi cuaderno.
se dice
"nunca tienes razón."

¿dónde está
la respuesta tuya?

estoy esperando.
sabes donde estoy.
estaré esperando.

nihilistic

2002-10-08T15:59:00.000-07:00

i don't think poems are very
productive.
writing one would be extremely
stupid
and a complete waste of my time.
funny
how people never understand things.

poems are so
inane.
i don't think i'm ever going to write one.
metrical
or not, they're just utterly
pointless.
poems are for people who don't know how to communicate.
abstract
thinkers, they call them.

i just think they're
crazy.

happiness

2002-10-04T15:59:00.000-07:00

i am a successful person.
i am rich and powerful, high and mighty, strong and invincible.
i have only experienced the real world in indirect media like the radio and the internet.
i have not smelled any flowers
i have not tasted authentic mexican food from the restaurant down the street.
i own my own website that generates billions of hits per day.
i have not felt grass between my toes.
i have not heard the gentle rustle of leaves in the fall.
i have not seen a thing outside.

am i happy?

maybe.

i have fallen in love.

tell me now:
i am happy.

trust

2002-10-03T15:58:00.000-07:00

how have you come to trust me so easily?
what did i do to deserve this trust?
absolutely nothing.
thanks for trusting me with your deep dark secrets
and your tall tales
and your melancholy melodrama
because i know you trust me.

why do you trust me?
i don’t even trust myself, you know.
i am so insecure.
i am ashamed of myself for letting you trust me.

i need to re-evaluate things
because right now
we’re throwing trust around like a frisbee
catch it here
throw it there
and i end up dropping it
and losing all the points i was trying to make.

don’t trust me.

death

2002-10-02T15:57:00.000-07:00

life ends so abruptly, as is often the case
it’s glamorized by the sex and the drugs and the parties
until we end up on our own death beds
cursing and regretting every bit we did and haven’t done.
some people are not so lucky.
“untimely” and “accident” do not make up the person’s life
though it may be the only thing remembered.
some people do it themselves
because they feel that they can do it
and not realize their profound impact on people around them.
some accept it so.
some cannot and cling to all that is materialistic and earthbound.
some believe in souls and heaven
some know they’re going straight to hell.

the only thing i know for sure
is that i will die
i don’t know how, i don’t know when, i don’t know why
i don’t want to know
but it is for certain
i will die.
that is the only thing i know.

silence

2002-10-01T15:57:00.000-07:00

sometimes i wish i could just choke it
and the tension will be all over when i do
more often though i feel it necessary
to say nothing at all: just look at you
and everyone as we converse in our own little worlds
of gestures and professions of faith and love
and justice and what is right and holier than thou
and we realize that we have silence
stronger than actions and louder than words
no need to speak, all the reason to feel
it never wants to end, it seems
it makes us think of things we never have before
makes us see the things we took for granted before
makes us cry and laugh and frighten our own selves as before
such power has silence
as i wonder if you’re thinking the same thing i am
and we spontaneously and coincidentally do the same thing
we thank the silence that transpired.

fear

2002-09-30T15:56:00.000-07:00

june 28th
the phone rings. it’s friday.
twelve o’clock, the clock read. jay was going home.
You had gone already because it was over 600 about two hours ago.
it was Your mother on the other end.
she said You were in the emergency room at st. joseph’s.

the laughter stopped and our smiles disappeared.

we rushed.
we got in mr. carvin’s mercedes, jay’s mom in the passenger side, and
we slammed the door and put on our seat belts and we gave the gas pedal hell.
red-green-red-green, the lights flashed
and we got on the onramp to the 91 and we hit the 55 and then the 22
and we saw the orange cones blocking the exit.
the trip was no less than excruciating and gut-wrenching. i was getting dizzy.
i was racking sobs inside of me while outside i remained
silent.
“main st. exit closed,” the sign said.
we madly dashed one past, turned right and right again
a sudden left and out the car.
the automatic doors opened wide,
greeting us as if the bright “emergency” sign was not enough.

we asked the nurse Your name and she said that visitors are limited
one at a time,
room thirty, past the door.
which door, which door – the one with the keypad – the one that
magically sprung open as i walked forward.
i stepped first, walked briskly past the threshold,
saw your stepfather-to-be and said there You are
expecting to see the worst.

i held my breath as i went past the curtain.

You were motionless and shallowly breathing
an intravenous drip down your arm
“we’re going to check your blood now” the other nurse said
while the other recounted her experiences with other patients
who needed amputations and couldn’t feel their toes and went blind.
Your forearm hurt because the nurse stabbed it with the needle.
You had a paper towel on Your head and Your eyes were bloodshot.
finally Your eyes opened and said
hey.
i was holding back tears every time i spoke with your mother.
it was a marvelous sight, the room.
it became traumatizing with You on the gurney
trying Your hardest to stay smiling
staying strong
aided by the proverbial twinkle of hope in Your eye.
You are truly amazing.

i held Your hand for a while.
You looked at me and didn’t need to say a word.
i clung on to it like i’d never let go; and this time
i prayed that i would give You something like strength
and hoped that a simple kiss on the hand would make it all better
like when You were little.
one o’ clock.
eerily silent, the room.

time passes. last count, 440. they’re doing final preparations
before we leave.
You can go home now.
no more tension.
knowing that if by waiting just a month more
the world would be a sadder place
i am happy that i know
and that You know.
two o’clock.
the emergency wing is quiet.

the ride home was beautifully uneventful.
i still didn’t let go.
people say that you need to get
scared
to fully appreciate something you love.
i was scared
and i love You.
i closed my eyes and thought deeply.
think, think, think, about what, about things i don’t know
about happy things, about imminence
about how God works in mysterious ways
(even though i’m an atheist)
and about how You look so different without your glasses.

how fragile we all are, i realized.
paralyzed by fear
gripped by things unforeseen and invisible
unanticipated, unwanted –
fear changes things.

i got home and slept for two hours
(i couldn’t sleep because i was too worried)
and woke up at four in the morning, crying.
fear slapped me in the face
and made me doubt
and let my mind delve into thoughts more horrible and perverse.
august seemed so far away, didn’t it?
imagine – no, i don’t want to.
i admire You so much.

fear sleeps in my heart.

i fear for You much more than i fear for myself.

rage

2002-09-29T15:55:00.000-07:00

anger in the heat of passion
blind madness like infatuation
obsessing to injure
loving to hate

i did it
i told you i did
and still you couldn’t find it in you to hate me
i am a bad person

i’m in complete denial
you have every right to hate me
but when you need to let that anger out
i am your punching bag

knowledge

2002-09-26T15:55:00.000-07:00

some people often walk the fine line
between knowledge
and wisdom
pledging for one
but meaning the other.

to be wise you need to know
to know is not necessarily to be wise
because you may know the difference
between pure science and applied science
but not know how to apply.

knowledge is accessible to all
and wisdom is more elusive.

knowing the difference
makes us wise.

helplessness

2002-09-19T15:54:00.000-07:00

helpless
oh so helpless
unable to do anything about any situation
unwilling to move
willing to give in to anything

painful
very painful
knowing full well the gravity of the event-at-hand
acutely sharp
plague my dreams with the sight

it was heartbreaking
seeing you so helpless
i was feeling helpless myself
and neither of us could do a thing
except wait

wait and wait i did
until the doctor gave the ok at 2 am
and you finally came alive
i couldn’t help crying
and feeling helpless

pride

2002-09-17T15:54:00.000-07:00

sometimes i wonder whether or not pride is a good thing.
it makes people unnecessarily humble
and then it makes their head swell
and then modesty doesn’t appear for a while.

often though pride smiles
and lets people shine in their own right.

we need pride because without it
we would be all too modest
all too honest
all too brutal and unable to face reality.

pride lets us be ourselves
without losing our pictures of ourselves
as we think we should be.

it keeps us normal
to a fault, of course
because pride lets us be.

justice

2002-09-16T15:53:00.000-07:00

it’s funny
how in the grand scheme of things
that in the end we’re all going to hell anyway
with the murderers
and the adulterers
and the liars
and the lawyers...

why a lie and murder can both send you straight to hell
it boggles the mind.

nothing in life is fair unless we make it fair.
all the sport and competition
even fair trials
have a bias. it’s never neutral.

justice makes me laugh because
she says to me
i contradict myself
and therefore don’t exist

integrity

2002-09-13T15:52:00.000-07:00

gritting my teeth i stared in your eyes
i said to myself i would never lie to you
nor to myself, for that matter
but it felt so right and it felt so good
so i did.

i was being true to nobody.

nobody knew who i really was.
nobody seemed to care enough
until you started to.
i wanted to be the me i wanted me to be
but i couldn’t.

i cheated myself out of integrity.

now i’m regretting everything,
having not stayed true to myself in the circumstances.
i wonder if you would have done the same
but i think you wouldn’t have
because i did.

i cannot live without my integrity.

convictions are set in concrete with integrity as the binder.
staying true to myself is like breathing now.

respect

2002-09-12T15:52:00.000-07:00

you need to be deserving of respect
for otherwise you will receive of none
if anytime you start to act suspect
consider only being all alone
precisely why you must know when to quit
or when to say let’s push on forward, then
respect is more than one can really fit fit
especially in company of men
most others will respect you if you show
the same exact respectfulness to them
they trust in you and only let them know
you know your bounds and when your tide must stem
respect is earned and gained, not given free
respect is learned and shown for all to see

freedom

2002-09-10T15:51:00.000-07:00

benjamin franklin once said
he who is willing to give up liberty
in order for a measure of security
deserves neither liberty nor security.

why do we take freedom for granted so much?

freedom rings clear in all our voices
the ability to pursue anything we desire
the power to be oneself at any given time
is this not enough?

the bells toll for those who fell free.

do we liberate others when we say we do
or are we being hypocrites again?
do we infringe upon race or religion
or gender or beliefs we hold true to ourselves and ourselves alone?

freedom does not know any boundaries.

truth

2002-09-09T15:51:00.000-07:00

truth hurts.
it is never beautiful and is always ugly.
truth liberates the mind from the heart
the heart from the soul
the soul from the body
the body from the mind
and everything in between.

truth accepts.
it is never judgmental and is always biased.
truth gives peace to the belligerent
war to the hateful
hate to the mindful
thought to the careful
care to the peaceful.

truth lies.
it is never fully true and is always incomplete.
truth destroys the walls of society
if let loose
if grown rampant
if harbored wrongly
if abused.

truth is all too powerful.

faith

2002-09-08T15:50:00.000-07:00

in the name of the father
and of the son
and of the holy mother and child
amen, hallelujah, praise to up above.

to you i am thankful for the life you have given me
and to the patience you so exhibit
and for the chances you have bestowed on all your children
even though we never deserve it.

despite the genocides and the spite
and the mass destruction you seem to enjoy
you kept my best friend alive.
i could never ask for anything more.

i might not believe in you sometimes
and in all my prayers i may be the most selfish
but i acknowledge your power over people.
i don’t believe but i have a good idea.

thank you for my best friend.
amen.

strength

2002-09-07T15:49:00.000-07:00

i am strong because i can carry heavy things, sometimes heavier than myself.

i am strong because i believe in my own convictions.

i am strong because i know the difference between right from wrong.

i am strong because i know when to say no.

i am strong because i have held you up before.

i am strong because i know my way around this town like the back of my hand.

i am strong because i live in the moment.

i am strong because i survive in spite of a heart problem.

i am strong because i have friends.

i am strong because i love you.

i am strong because you love me.

i am strong because i have you.

love

2002-09-06T15:49:00.000-07:00

i’ve tried to tell you so many times
but every time i do the words escape me
because when i look at you
you tend to take my breath

away

and leave me gasping for air as i cry out your name
and then you turn around
and do the same thing all over again.

you are adorable.

call it a strange obsession if you will
i’ve kept silent for a long time now
but it kills me, holding back all this
this love

you speak like a bird
you laugh like the gentle falling of the rain
you make me the happiest person in the entire world.

i thought i saw it coming
until it hit me way too late
but then i realized i love you nonetheless
because you love me.

friendship

2002-09-05T15:48:00.000-07:00

knowing that tomorrow will be the very same
hoping that tonight you will have uttered my name
searching for the comfort in the darkness that surrounds
i held your hand, you led me, i was lost but now am found

you think too little of yourself because you’re modest
i think it’s a gift, modesty: never the oddest
thing to cross my mind, least of all your loyalty
trustworthiness, capacity to love, and seeming fragility

smile for me just one last time before i leave this place
enlighten me with everything in that one last embrace
erase the sadness, tears, and loss of hope upon your face
our friendship holds forevermore: it is our saving grace

j'irai

2002-09-02T15:48:00.000-07:00

j'irai partout pour toi
parce que je t'aime
parce que je t'adore.

tant que je te veux
tu as mon coeur
tu as mon âme
pour le moins tu as tout que je suis.

je ferais n'importe quoi
être juste près de toi encore
parce que je t'aime trop pour ne pas s'inquiéter.

je m'ennuie de toi
des profondeurs mêmes de mon être
et du fond de mon coeur
de façon ou d'autre tu fais la douleur disparaître.

soin de prise de vous-même
et rappeles-toi
que si tu as besoin jamais de moi
j'ai raison là
parole juste ainsi.

je voudrais voir toi bientôt
et nous volonté
assez bientôt
assez bientôt.

frigid

2002-08-19T15:45:00.000-07:00

it's surprisingly cold up here
i'm wearing three layers
no one knows who i really am.

they know my name
they know what i do
but all they really know
is what i tell them.

truth be told
i don't know who i am.
i don't know anyone who does.

does god?
sometimes i wonder about him.
he doesn't do many things often anymore.

it's so cold
my teeth chatter sometimes
and mumble incoherent pieces of misinformation.

i know these things won't matter in a while
but for right now
it matters so much
because it's so cold...

it's cold...
i'm freezing.

goodbye

2002-08-14T15:44:00.000-07:00

i'm leaving so many things behind.
i'm leaving my clothes
i'm leaving my cozy little room
i'm leaving my massive collection of books and papers
i'm leaving the comfort of my house
i'm leaving the swing
i'm leaving the computer
i'm leaving you.

i don't want to go.
i don't want to leave.
i don't want to feel this way.
i don't want to go without you.
i don't want to feel helpless like this.
i don't want to say goodbye.
i don't want to leave.
i don't want to cry.

sometimes
i wish i can just close my eyes
and when i open them again
i'll be back.
and you'll be there with me.
and we'll laugh
and we'll have fun
and we'll never leave each other's presence.
sometimes how i wish you were here.
i wish for so much.

we had some good times, didn't we?
i relive those
every time it gets too quiet.
i surround myself with images of you
i'm delusional
because i swear i could feel you right here
and smell your scent
and hear your voice.
i'd take you with me if i could.

thanks for listening and all your time.
i'm not worth as much as you think i am.
that's only as much as i can be.
goodbye, now.
goodbye.
i hope to see...
goodbye, now.
goodbye.

and tears up at the coffee shop
with dreams of being in a band
and music in his life.
goodbye.
i pray.
i pray now.
goodbye, now.
goodbye.

the eye of the apple

2002-08-12T15:42:00.000-07:00

one day, spring ended and ushered in
the glory of summer.
the fields were green
the hills were rolling
the sun was beaming
and the children were laughing.
in one of the orchards stood a lone
apple tree --
in the middle of the orchard
alone.
there were no other trees.
but the apple tree
bore the most fruit
the sweetest fruit in all the land.

one of the apples decided to
explore the world around her.
she made a leap of faith
onto one of the children passing by.

the apple fell from the tree
and could not decide in which hand she would go.
"the one on the right listens to me,
but my eye falls for the one on the left," she thought.
the child caught her in both.

of one person, two hands
but only one apple.
the left hand told the right hand to go back
into the pocket
as he told the right about
everything he felt about the apple.
the apple waited slowly as it ripened beautifully.
the right hand experienced ecstasy
and god forbid, love
when he held the apple but for mere moments.
the left hand wonders about the what-ifs and
the maybes and the would-haves.
that's all he can do now as he holds the apple.

the left despises himself for what he did.
the right was afraid to have fallen in love.
the apple is left untasted and waiting.
she waits and waits and waits
and waits some more.

they all want answers.
the answers are gone.

thank you

2002-08-11T15:42:00.000-07:00

why do i have to care for you so much?
maybe because i am scared as hell.
i'm too afraid to find out what happens
if i let go,
if i run away from here,
if i lose sight of this place,
if i never see you again.
will you hold my hand and help me through?
i'm scared.
you've done so much for me, you know.
i can never begin to begin to thank you enough
even though i've hurt you so goddamned much.
and still you forgive me
and smile
and laugh at my crazy antics
and care.
why do i always cry?
it's coming.
i'm gone in two days, you know.
i know you know how i really feel
even though i don't say much.
but when you look at me
but for that moment
but for every instance that you've paid attention
but for everything and nothing all at once --
you never hesitate.

sometimes i wish i could just
throw everything away
to know you're all right,
and you always say you are.
you never tell me these things.
most of the time i wish i could
just be normal, you know,
so you won't have to see me cringe in pain
or breathe short shallow breaths
gasp, trying, gasp, to, gasp
stay alive
pushing medicine through my bloodstream.
i care for you too much.

i have so much to say to you.
but the one thing we need the most, we don't have enough of
because it waits for no one.
the most i can do is pray
and hope to something, somewhere
that in the near future our paths will cross
again.
i will have much more to say then.
i will tell you.

the apple fell from the tree
and could not decide in which hand she would go.
the one on the right listens to me,
but my eye falls for the one on the left.
of one person, two hands
but only one apple.
the left hand told the right hand to go back
into the pocket
and told everything he felt about the apple.
the apple waited slowly as it ripened beautifully.
the right hand experienced ecstasy
and god forbid, love
when he held the apple but for mere moments.
the left hand wonders about the what-ifs and
the maybes and the would-haves.
that's all he can do now as he holds the apple.

just like the stone under the dreaming tree
i hope you'll come along with me.
we'll sleep to dream her many nights
and find that in our ephemeral delights
the life that we once used to live:
the one we would never have again.

thanks for listening and all your time.
i'm not worth as much as you think i am.
that's only as much as i can be.
goodbye, now.
goodbye.
i hope to see...
goodbye, now.
goodbye.

of the same person, two hands.
so similar yet innately different.
they match up when he prays.
he prays now.
goodbye, now.

and tears up at the coffee shop
with dreams of being in a band
and music in his life.
goodbye.

beauty

2002-08-10T15:40:00.000-07:00

can you find it in makeup
or magazine cutouts
or on tv shows
where everyone looks like a barbie doll
emaciated and dying?

i find it lies in you.

beauty is your middle name as you laugh
at my ridiculous jokes
or when you cry at my
outpouring of emotion.
is it real?

i find it once too true.

beauty is imperfection.

can you look past the designer jeans
or the expensive jewelry
or the catalogs that seem to
stare you in the face
with images of "perfection" and "high style"?

perfection is not real.

something is dastardly wrong with us all.
some of us are fat or sickly thin
some have frizzy hair
others have terrible skin.
i like imperfection.

beauty lies in you.

courage

2002-08-09T15:38:00.000-07:00

today i found out about courage.
how silent the enemy can be,
how unsuspecting all of us truly are:
and in that precise moment we find ourselves
weeping for what was and what is
and what it forever will be.
courage shows when you smile.

you smile like no one else does
because you brighten everyone's day with it.
you are the victim here --
should you be smiling?
the silence makes the rest of us ill
but you stifle the silence oh so well
with your relentless assault of music.

your fingers dance over the keys of the piano,
leaving traces of unbridled joy and passion:
a piece of your soul
ingrained forever in the notes
floating in the air,
catching our attention,
making us yours.

Spain flies with Open Arms
and cries for Tears in Heaven
as they stumble over Maple Leaf Rags
in a Caravan,
suffering from Narcolepsy,
remembering all too well Christmastime
and memories of Skating.

your hair bobbles
as you turn your head ever-so-nonchalantly
keeping time with the music
closing your eyes
feeling the beat
letting it all out without saying a single word.
i admire you so much.

the music lets you cry like you never have.
we never see the tears because
you are a proud individual,
too smart and too kind.
in the end we only see your radiant
smile
and it gives us courage.

we tell you to keep smiling
and to never forget
(as if we ever could)
and there you flash
trademark teeth
façade ineffable.
you have so much courage.

what i believe

2002-08-08T18:53:00.000-07:00

first and foremost i believe in myself
for without this belief i would not be.

i believe i can be what i want me to be,
a teacher, a student, a leader, a musician, a poet, a writer.

i believe in respecting others, be it their
beliefs or faiths or opinions or selves.

i believe in pop culture and culture itself.

i believe in the power of cheese,
that pork is the other white meat,
that Britney did it again,
that reading is fundamental, and
that Derek Zoolander can too turn left.

i believe in secrets and lies and fairy tales and the
misadventures of Harry Potter.

i believe in what people want me to believe.

i believe in truth, beauty, freedom, and
above all things,
love.

i believe in love and friendship and unity
and peace and brotherhood and happiness
and humanity because without these things life
is not worth living.

i believe in dark denim jeans,
in white short-sleeved cotton oxford shirts,
in plastic thin-framed glasses with ultraviolet protection,
in ankle-length athletic socks, and
in the fact that i will do my laundry once i can't wear these clothes anymore.

i believe in the power of human nature and curiosity.

i believe in many things, like rainbows and
great works of literature and Einstein's theory of relativity.

i believe in the world.