The more humans that you meet, the more places you go, the more people you share a moment with,

the more you give away of yourself. 

Some never do it, because they’d rather avoid the last words, the separation and longing to be somewhere where you’re not. It hits you, you feel incomplete, but you soon realize the more it happens, the less it hurts the next time. First experiences are always the most intense; the sheer ingenuity is a void that becomes apparent the moment you stare straight at it. And it’s not always the infinite black hole of an abyss. It can also be a clear sky, a vantage point from which to take a moment in, an overpowering rush of energy that you suddenly tap into, like diving into the water, saying the words to the face staring back, making music with a soon-to-be-not stranger, the friction of skins that wish to become one. It is always by choice that great moments occur. But there is always a price to pay. We live intensely and it takes something from us. What some would call purity. The skin is never the same after the cut, what some would say scars are marks of a life fully lived. We don’t realize our capacity to heal & regenerate, until we require of it. We become tired, and must rest as the woe of aftermath sets.

This is where everyone chooses.

What degree of volatility in emotion, in energy, in life, do I wish to bear?

The thing is, every birth is a separation. A soul, a vital energy that is trapped in our human bodies, experiencing reality constrained by time and space. We can only be some place at once, and we can only really live a moment once. The song is sang differently every time, and that void grows again as soon as it ends. We say goodbye to someone, not knowing when you’ll see them again. It always sucks, but we must not allow circumstance to enslave us in it’s daze. The present is a gift, and gifts are hardly understood. We let them pass, mistake it for more inconvenience to your golden calf. For me, even worse than separation, than goodbye, is the regret that comes when we don’t take the chance, when we back out, when we tell ourselves that it’s not worth it. That could be it’s own special type of hell. 

If there’s anything else worth saying, is that your better life is right ahead of you. All the time. Circumstance is what is right in front of you, what holds you back, and it blinds you, sorta like staring at your phone looking for some other life, a modern Plato’s cave, imagining something much more grand happening but not being able to participate, to experience it. What you seek is there. It’s waiting for you to discover it. It’s waiting for you to stare it into the eye and fully commit yourself to it. 

So be careful for what you ask for, or else circumstance will take care of it. 
Do it for the right reasons, and if it’s True, 

You just might get it. 


Agosto 2017.


"We all thought it would be different. Sever ties with the old and spent, and with purifying fire rid ourselves of evil. Now, as we see it all burn, we wring in regret, as we see the unbridled passion become our undoing. The protagonist represents our hope that has been trapped in the city, that yearns to believe in itself but the overwhelming evidence of reality knocks it down back to its resting place, watching TV that perpetuates the disreality until the power goes out, spending the night, hoping the next day will be better, somehow. It is a clamour to providence."

“Todos pensamos que sería diferente. Cambiar el presente de forma y con el fuego purificar nuestros males. Ahora, mientras seguimos ardiendo, nos retorcemos en remordimiento al ver como nuestras pasiones nos consumen. El protagonista representa la esperanza que ha sido atrapada en una ciudad, que desea poder creer en si misma pero la evidencia contundente de la realidad la golpea hasta acabar en su lecho, viendo TV que perpetúa su desrealidad hasta que se va la luz, pasando la noche, y esperando que el día siguiente sea mejor. Es un clamor a la providencia”.

August 16th, 2016