I'M DRUNK. Off of one beer and too much time. Or too little food... I am smoking cigarettes in my bed drinking cheap booze thinking "how the fuck did I end up here... I am in a trace. A lonely trance, I can't seem to find what it is that I am missing.. And all that comes to mind seems to be... Well, someone. You see I have no friends... Okay that is an exaggeration. I do have friends but they are what I like to call SURFACE. Nothing past the script that you are provided as a child... No one to be real and uncensored with. However, I don't think that I am at a total lose. Well, I probably am. Because I can't seem to get it htrough my head that I have to take time to work on myself before I can ever acheive true happiness. Sure girls come into your life they fuck you then they fuck you up then they leave and you are left thinking "wow that was one great fuck but shit I don't ever want to see them again..." And in all honesty I don't want to see them again. All I want is to fuck as many people I can so that way I might actually feel worth something, even if that something is just a a great lay. But shit, there are worse things to be known for... At least it isn't bad sex. No, if there is one thing that I know I am good at it is sex. Ever girl I have ever been with has gotten off at least once and at least half of them tell me that I am the best that they have ever had. So maybe this sounds a bit arrogant and cocky like I am some sort of womanizer but on the contrary I am not, I just enjoy pleasing people, and you see that is the source of all my problems I can't seem to be happy unless everyone around me is happy which is no way to live a life, trust me.... I know. Anyway fuck I need to go to bed... More tomorrow? I think but you never know... I might be fucking some nameless woman tomorrow.

Rachel,

I miss you so much that it pains me... I wish that I could take back everything that happened but both know this is for the best. So why do I feel like you are the only thing I want in my life... You are the one that I want to come home to and laugh like we never hurt each other. You are the one that got away and I was the one who pushed you away. Sure we can blame in on timing but we both know its a cover story... I wish I could call you to bitch about my day, text you telling you about hilarious shit that happens to me at my shit coffee shop job.... Or just tell you that the way the sun shines through my window reminds me of that time last summer when you got back from Hawaii and we fucked until we couldn't move and then I told you that I missed you more than I thought I could miss a person. Fuck! Fuck this I know that you need space but I don't want anyone else. I want to wrap up in your arms and dream, dreams of happily ever after... Space... Space, that is what you want... space. You aren't ready to see me on a regular basis and I get that... It's hard but FUCK... Can I just rewind that clock... Take us back to winter time and to long goodnight kisses... And to talks on the top of the Cesar Chavez about things we couldn't even fathom in our dreams.

You are the one that makes me laugh and smile uncontrollably. FUCK THIS! I miss you so damn much that I want to scream your name from my window every night just so you know that I am falling asleep dreaming of you. And that you are and forever will be the best fucking friend I have had. You really surprised me you know that? I guess that I fucked up in the end... Or maybe I just shot the dying bird right when it was getting better. Or maybe I am glorifying our relationship because I miss you so fucking much... I miss the way I would be entirely comfortable with you... The smell of your hair right after you showered. The way you held my hand. Most of all the way you looked at me.. I miss the way the moon light reflected off your eyes when I would go out for my midnight smoke with you as my faithful companion... The youthfulness of your giddy smile. Smoking with you and then reading poetry until I couldn't talk. Then playing country music for you to prove that it isn't as bad as you think it is...

So could you, would you, please forgive me... Just give me a chance to repent.. and make it soon. Because with out you in my life I feel like a lost dog in a pack of wolves... Will you please come guide me home so that I can remember what it was like to smile and not have to say "Would you like cream or sugar in that?" I don't think I remember what it was like to actually smile until I saw you that day... And it felt so free. No judgement just two people talking and connecting for their own happiness... Or sadness rather... I think I remember you say that you were slightly glad to know that you weren't the only one that was feeling miserable and you know what, I agree with you. Misery loves company and I would love nothing more that to have you as my miserable companion again. Because, honestly, we are all miserable and that is what make life worth it because you find those few highlights that keep you going until the next ones and you remember them like you remember the kiss of the sun on a crisp summer morning right as the clouds are evaporated.

Fuck this turned into an essay real fast.. any whooooo. I just miss you and wish that I could text you right now because you see, I have this 6-pack of beer in my fridge and I have no one to drink it with...

She asked: "What is real for you?"
Is it that smoke that burns on the way down?
Burning me to my core?
Is it the woman I wake up next to?
What is her name?
After awhile they all blur together.
There is no light and nothing ever feels right anymore,
Not since the day I woke and say myself in the mirror
Plain, no make up, bare and stripped
I look at myself and ask
What is real for me?
Is it the words on these pages?
Letters of an alphabet put together to make sense but nothing makes sense anymore.
I wake up every morning laying the the bed,
It's not even my bed.
I couldn't tell you how many others have slept here because I myself do not have this knowledge.
My room is filled with things, and stuff, and items,
But none of these things are mine.
I do not own them,
I carry no power over what they do,
I do not have power,
All i have is my mind,
"Not even a body?"
No...
All i have are these thoughts
And are they even real?
They ask:
"What is real for you?"
And I would answer, if not for this deadly smoke I suck through every breath.
Breathe, you tell me?
Breathe?!
And how would i do that la mia amante?
For too long now I have been inhaling these cancerous fumes and I am tired...
But sleep is never present.
Nothing is real to me
Not the breathless women I lay atop of each night.
What are their names?
Or will I ever know,
Ever care...
This is what I am:
A being
"Not human?"
A being of cells,
Of molecules,
Of atoms,
And it all means nothing to me...
All of this,
My life,
My dreams,
Means nothing
Because at the end of the day
No one really listens to you,
Not even when you are on your last dying breath,
You and I?
We are never heard
Those we think listen
Are only waiting for their turn to speak
And that is what feeds us...
Interaction with others?
but it's all a lie
What is real for me,
That is what you want to know?
It's not worth my time to explain
Because even though you are reading this,
Or listening to me speak
You will never truly hear me or see me,
All you know is that brown haired blue eyed girl is sitting in the grass
Smoking a cigarette and writing.
You don't see me do you?
So to answer your question I ask:
"What is real for you, la mia amante?"