there is so much going on around you and i know you are tired. it is admiring to see you try so hard not to stumble as you make heavy steps, wading through the chaos that the world throws at your feet. you take yourself here and there without a thought of pausing for a while. even if you did, your thoughts would still be elsewhere far from you. i can see how you love to please everybody else at the expense of your own. you are everybody's hero, everyone's pillar, although it may not always be what you desire. you do not seem to be hurt nor do you know pain nor suffering, and you put up this facade of indifference. you retreat only to yourself yet without knowing the comfort that you seek. you heave out a little sigh and you think i do not know what is going on. when will you stop being arrogant about your own needs?

i wonder if you can be pleased at all. i wonder if you would like to be told that it does not always take doing great deeds to be a hero, and that you do not have to be one for today. i wonder if you know how to give up for a moment without quitting. i wonder if anyone has ever told you that imperfection never did equate to mediocrity and that perfection is optional. i wonder what sublime thoughts can be revealed through those eyes, and if you could hold them in a steady gaze so that i may see. i wonder if i can ever hear you breathe slowly, or sigh as you behold a thing of beauty, or hear your heart race for a better reason. i wonder if you do look upon yourself with beauty, and i wonder if you would love to hear that you are beautiful. i wonder if you are brave enough to ask for what you really want, or were you ever afraid of the naked truth of your own desires. i wonder if you are made with tenderness beneath that fortitude. i wonder if you know how incredible it is to be able to slow dance obliviously amidst the bustling crowd. i wonder if you want to be held tight in my arms, more than my own desire to know the feel of your hands. these arms do not have your strength, but they can hold you just as firmly. forget everyone and my own needs for now. hush, and let me cradle you and your lamentations. let me touch you where it hurts, and let the warmth of these hands ease the pain. be still and sink deeply into sleep in my embrace, knowing you can open your eyes to renewed hopes. give in not to any demands other than your own. you do not have to please anyone right now but yourself. you do not have to be anything else but yourself. not for anyone, not for me. hush. abandon all your worries now, for i shall keep watch over you while you escape in sweet slumber. so sleep my beautiful weary one, sleep. forget about this world and all that is temporal for a moment, and love yourself like i do.

journal entry on 16 february 2002

it is such a mystery how we love to drown ourselves in the potency of liquors such as the tasteful vodka or the fiery tequila. what great emotions swell with the rising levels of fermented fluids in our blood? what miseries do we throw up and out into neverland? in a jigger, or glass, a bottle, or two, warmth is quite joyous. then it leads us to want more. as if throwing more logs into a bonfire, to add to the glowing embers, to build more heat. or perhaps courage? and yet for some of us, we are just so lost in the revelry that we forget how far we have gone. but where is the warmth that we seek? that rush of fiery blood? our heads are spinning and perhaps our souls with it. but there is none. we are in no other state but wasted. do we not know any other forms of intoxication? would we not be intoxicated by the light of the moon, or the sun on our faces? the sand beneath our feet or the rush of waves against our bodies. at tiring our legs as we run across a field of soft grass. at running a trail in the woods on a mountain bike or a horse. at conversing about the most hilarious things. laughters. belly laughters. do we not get a high? out of hugs, and kisses. at staring at each others eyes, or hearing each others voices. at singing and dancing like nothing else matters. drawing or painting, and mixing up colors from a palette onto a canvass. the soft colors of sunrise, and the warm tones of sunset. the blue skies. the green fields. the hues of twilight. at writing down memories or sentiments in a poem, or ode, or free verse. in music. the song of a piano, a violin, or an electric guitar played by a virtuoso. in beethoven's sonatas. in satrianni's rifs. ice cream. chocolate. coffee. in giving something to people who had nothing. in the excitement in a child's eyes. at flying. at escaping to a far-off place to see the unseen, or revisit the beauty that has been seen. have we ever been in much madness? as singing our hearts out in the shower. dancing in the streets in street parties, fiestas, and parades. a new year's eve. in spending hours waxing your car or waxing your legs. talking all night to someone dear, or to the stranger on the night train. cartwheels. adrenalin rush, or multiple orgasms. have we known any greater euphoria than love? of your mother, father, sisters, brothers. from the love of a friend, or the love of a child. infatuations and falling in love. platonic love. true love. love for oneself. love for others. love for God. love for life. life is indeed the most potent liquor. it fills the heart. it intoxicates all senses. let us drink to that... bottoms up!

santé!

journal entry on 23 march 2001

tequila.
warm golden blood
potent and lively
a toast to emotions
cold lifeless fancies
unfulfilling desires
of a weary spirit

lick.
as though to touch
your skin with my tongue
its smoothness
gliding

shoot.
a taste of bitterness
a scent through your nose
clearing, sliding
down your throat
feeling a river flow
and afterwards
comes a fire
warming its path
setting flames
to the abyss

suck.
to cleanse bitter tastes
rekindle the desire
as though to kiss
your lips
with mine

journal entry on 21 march 2001