Cabudare 2006

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Originally uploaded by mercurytoxic.

On the bus, back to Caracas. I’ve been for the past 3 weeks staying at my ex-ex’s place in Barquisimeto. Amazing in itself, because we’re good friends, and to be back and spend time with him it’s an enjoyment in itself. To look at him and see how he has changed in some ways or yet stayed exactly the same in others through the almost 9 years of our friendship. He’s older, bolder and tougher, or at least he appears to be. Still carrying a bundle of broken memories that eventually will heal, at least enough to regain hopes.

The highlight of this trip as he put it is that we fucked. Yes, he fucked me 3 times, I blew him a few. I took his load a few times as well. It’s been so long since I’ve had this kind of sex. I mean the sex in itself was okay. But, maybe was that I desired him so much, that it made it special. I loved it. I even got to try to fuck him. For me the highlight of the trip was that we showered together, he was drunk, so his tight grasp was looser, we kissed a lot, we touched each other and made out for quite some time. I wonder, does the real Antonio feels the need for making love?

I have so many things in my mind. Can’t really focus on something specific.

I wanted to have sex last night, it was my last night there, it was my last opportunity to be with him sexually in a while. He was tired, I asked him maybe a little bit too much, he got pissed, he was tired.

I fear him. He’s so overpowering. So imposing, so demanding and I am exactly the opposite. I just don’t want to face trouble. Makes me ill. I fear so many things. I can’t face a battle for power, not anymore. I loved being with him, but I hated not being in control.

I can’t live like this. I don’t want to be tougher. I want to be emotional. I want to be soft. I have my own opinions, desires and tastes. Although they get crushed more often than not. Why people can’t see that I mix and match for myself the things that I want. Yes, I don’t follow trends or use the latest brand shit, I don’t care about that. I just happen to love my shoes, and there’s no need to remind me every day that you don’t like them, and I can’t defend myself. Why would I need to defend myself from someone that loves me?

My worst night there was when we went to the disco. I felt so utterly and completely out of place. So vulnerable, and not being able to blend in, to make him proud. Antonio was concerned enough about me and cared for me through the night.

For me. Yes, I’ve changed. Life has made me softer, less sure about myself and a lot less argumentative.

Today he asked me “Why do you have to be so nice with people?” Wow.. Wouldn’t the world be a much better place if we all were nicer with each other, or do the need to have an Alpha Male? always reminding us that he’s looking, pointing out every time we do something he does not approve. In what fantasy world do I live? Where I can roll up a window because it doesn’t cost me anything instead of feeling the need to use my oppressive power. Most probable I’m the one who?s wrong, because people with or without the intention will sometimes end up abusing you in one way or another and it’s up to you to be able to without fear stand your ground and not do what you don’t want to.

The Road

The road. I imagine the majority of people feel lost and directionless at some point in their life. What happens when you feel like that every single day.

In these paragraphs I’m going to try to describe my conscious thoughts and maybe reach to some conclusion that will help be get some direction. (pause to watch TV)

I’m writing this laying naked on my bed, my legs crossed and my right foot laying on a nearby table. The flicker of the big TV lights up the room and projects shadows of the scattered clothes and stuff all over the room. It’s hasn?t been properly cleaned in months. It’s not overly dirty, but it’s not clean either.

I haven’t eaten in a couple days. A slight buzz from the hunger makes my head feel heavy and my mind lightheaded. A huge block of cheap cheese, a box of chiclets, paper napkins, ink jet printer cartridges, silicon tube and some scattered crap is in the fridge, nothing particularly appealing or edible. this must be the biggest “rancho” in town.

This has been my life for the past 34 years give or take a few. Not much has changed. Hope has come and go. Haven’t been able to grasp to it and the few only time I might have had a chance to stay away from all, I blew it, by not accepting to extend a job in Japan. I’m castrated by fear. (I think)

I talk about me. I think about me. But I can’t barely get out of bed. Try not drinking or eating anything for 12 hours. That’s my usual day. Wake up to the misery of my loneliness, to hear the nauseous noises of mediocrity. My mom’s radio playing in the background, loud enough not to understand what it’s saying but loud enough to be a torment to face every day. (pause to eat some cheese and cookies)(also chatted with Antonio, my best friend and ex-boyfriend who knows me more than anyone)

A friend that I usually go out with. Has asked me, why I automatically get sad everytime I go out of my room. I wish I knew what was going on, where every disturbing malfunction starts and how to end it.

Anyone that knows me, knows that I can theorize about anything. I could start trying to figure out why I do this or that, but those analysis never reach any results.

(~5 days later)

So.. Yeah.. Stuffed.. Naked.. Alone.. Eager.. Comfy.. Bloated.. Sleepy.. Anxious.. Content.. Relaxed.. Dozing.. Impatient.. Awaiting.. Nostalgic.. Horny.. Flaccid.. Hurt.. Longing..

(few days later)

Tomorrow I’m leaving for Bqto. To visit Antonio, It’s been a few months since the last time we saw each other. Quite excited about, have been in a good mood lately.

(On the bus)
It’s funny how good it feels to feel wanted. Not desired but at least wanted. My ex’s lil bro was making a big deal about me going to Barquisimeto, like how our friendship was at stake or how he’ll find another friend because I was leaving him. It’s good when people remind you, if not with words, at least with sillyness that they need you just for you.

Trip has been awful so far. How come people don’t realise hearing is a sense too? I mean, would you torture someone by blowing smoke on their face for hours? Or maybe poking them rythmically ? What about flashing beautiful colors on their face for 6 continous hours? Well, hearing is a sense too and maybe this is news for you? But I HATE FUCKING MUSIC, specially crappy kind, and since I’ not smoking or farting on your face I would enjoy if your respect my senses and not torture me with your music. It’s amazing how uncivilized people in general are, years ago it was allowed to smoke everywhere, and it took decades to restrict smoking places to certain areas, why? Cause it stinks? It’s offensive to others, it violates their senses, just as sound does. One day, music and sounds will be regulated in this lawless butthole of the world.

(from a conversation I had the other day)
Don’t be retard. Dictatorship or any for of government where everything is controlled by a few has never worked anywhere, it just has promoted ignorance and abuse. The era of Perez Jimenez, lets start saying that u weren’t alive, and for me the opinion of your granma who didn’t even finish first grade is irrelevant. She’s nothing but a pawn. Eats, shits, fucks and spews critters out her pussy faster than she can feed them. I would rather have the opinion from someone that had a degree in something perhaps, someone that felt oppressed cause his ideas weren’t even taken in consideration because he wasn?t a member of the elites.