tryn to..

its been awhile since i posted..or even wrote .. sucks more that it took this to write..but hopefully its a start =)

***

ps3 and pizza. broken hearts and bali. heart and heal.

this is for the death of a once known home.
goodbye LA.

there you were in sunshine and heat,
an old home.
it was too easy to find comfort within your streets of complication -
there was an anxious exhale as i melted into your palms -
i tried place myself within your contradictions -
but instead at every turn you reminded me that i've left.

i ran away.
tears first, stumbling on my broken heart and surrounded by my fears mocking me.
"we win" they laughed
and all i could do was stare down in embarrassment
thinking my will would be enough to survive the trip into the source of my darkness, my everything.
i held my bag like it was the broken pieces of my heart
all i could collect
all that was left.
as i watched them break and fall from my eyes,
i could only but watch in agony
how quickly
how effortlessly
how naturally they gave up.

the sirens unravel in the emptiness of my failure.
they are thick, a choking poison - cancer of survival
i sit still in the remnants of your love diffused, burnt away.
how could one solitary place of strength change so much?
i turmoil within the crimson question of what, have i done?
where have i gone?
and how do i deal?

through slow sips of death to the body meaning quick death of the mind
through painful reminder of reality meaning realms wreck insights into my love
how do i endure the survival of my ghosts?
running into my psyche albeit my attempt to hide their eminence.
they haunt me into surrendering
i can only but submit to their melancholy musings.

my heart that has crawled in hope is dying.
it is being drained of all things beautiful and unrealized.
singlehandedly by the death of your promise,
it will soon not exist.
forever and ever.

comfort eats..

[a vent - after watching SiCKO for the 2nd time]

last night i comfort ate.

and not for a boy but for a country.

a country plagued by poison sent over media waves and material things we never wanted until we turned on a tv. a country driven by greed and individualism. a country that seems to squash dreams of a integrated society built on community and solidarity and other buzz words i only seem to hear in spoken word pieces. buzz words that i cant seem to put into practice even though i can talk a whole lot about revolution and the death of it.

free universal health care for everyone. for everyone. young, old, poor, rich, white, black, brown, queer, down. there is so much to do but i dont know how to do it. Lord you've given me passion and a burden..a heart for change but i dont know what to do with it. i dont know where to go and i dont know if educating the masses is enough. if making sure children are learning the right things is enough.

i call for mental genocide.

i call for a mass death of all things unclean. of all things unseen because of our friend hegemony. they even got filipin@s turning on everyone who isn't filipin@. they. they. i haven't felt this anger in a long time and the fire is consuming as if my heart was made of wood. but its not..it is made of makibaka huwag matakot. it is made of drive and hope .. the only hope thats left at the end of the day working for corporate america who pays its teachers $14 an hour even though we're teaching 12th graders how to read .. even though we're teaching A.D.D. students not on medication how to sit still ..even though we're dealing with psycho parents who push their kids to do better...their privileged white kids whose parents dont have to work 2 - 3 jobs but take them to golf instead.

maybe deep down inside im a commi. maybe deep down inside i want to revolutionize amerikkka by putting out music and tv and movies that encourage community.. magazine adds that accept people for the way they are .. reality tv shows about anorexia and the stupidity of body image .. maybe deep down inside the Christian in me is mad at Christianity for reinforcing these stereotypes ..for being a religion instead of a relationship.. for being for the rich instead of struggling to be like the poor .. for putting out positive images that only rich people can afford. maybe we need to band together and be angry and fight and protest and be French? MAYBE ..its a lost cause

and maybe .. i want to write but can't because i have to go to work to pay off my loans that wouldn't even exist if i lived in another country.

tormented by truth i see... my insides ache for the hurt.