I wonder if you are the clockmaker: 24 October 2011
I need this journal. I need my own words breathless and sparked and nonsensical and hurtful and published and worrisome and anxious and the death urges. My anemic emotional handwriting that may not be my own, alone. No right, no…
Choripan night: 11 de enero de 2015
Last night was choripan night in the hostel, and I worked from 4pm to midnight, my first day shift. Well, “day” meaning not after midnight, when I usually work. It was fun to talk to all the people, sell alcohol,…
So here I am in the light of the terraza: 18 de febrero de 2014
So here I am in the light of the terraza, shaded by his sombra, craving words like a sexual compulsion, but this time in Spanish. It’s like my brain’s foreplay tryst with “herramientas,” a simple word made into a throaty…