The Aftermath

So the party was fantastic. Thanks to all the Canadians who showed up, haha. We danced, we drank, we had good fun. I painted peoples fingernails black to make sure all had paid and took down names and said ridiculous things only a non native Spanish speaker can get away with. Oh it was grand. Can´t wait to get back to Van and do it with the homies. But Vancouver is looking a bit further away despite the snow that has already begun to fall up at Whis. That´s right bitches, I´m watching it. Once the base is good yall know I´ll be home, hahahaa.

I read some poetry in Spanish. The people liked it. I was scared and I shook in the cold steel chair and when I was done I had to run away for a moment just to calm myself with some grape juice. Now its sunny out and I have job offers in Montevideo and I´m printing pictures for a portfolio and working on the hostel that I will be coming back to work at next year. This place will be sweet in time. I´ll upload some more photos later today or tomorrow. This computer is such a piece I wont even bother trying to upload for fear of losing all my photos.

If anyone wants to come visit me in beautiful Montevideo lemme know. Summer is just beginning and the appeal of the beach is growing daily. We got some surfboards and some thumbs so I think an adventure to the waves is in order. More on that later this week. Isabel and Chelsea, friends from UBC studying in Chile stopped by randomly for the party, catching some fine Montevidean weather and taking advantage of the free theater week thats going on here right now. They said the theater sucked. I guess there´s a reason why its free.

I have a little poem/story to share as well. I wrote it back in Argentina but I figured nows a good time for someone...its kind of a dream sequence and it jumps a lot. So it kinda sucks and needs a lot of editing. But I like everything better raw.

1
Loose lips left lingering kisses on rose red cheeks, burning with passion like a midday rainstorm. A pleasant disruption from the normalized monotony of another day, the rain washed the sin from our hair. Each drop falling hard and finding its way to my scalp. Each kiss pressed hard to your heart. You said to me, soaked in rain, that to drink the drops cleansed you "inside out," like the rain did to the streets, sweeping away the shit that would otherwise sit stagnet in the gutter waiting to be washed. I said each day the rain renewed me, left me feeling like a clean street, ready to be beat down again and again; defeated daily.
So we fell like rain everyday into the oceans of eachothers bodies, the vast unknown awaiting exploration. When the clouds refused to drain their spirits on our own we took time to wander in the parks around the city. I plucked flowers, purple lavender and poppies, their modest scents agreed with ours and and drove me wild as they mingled, made me only want your more. Alone at night I dreampt with you, connected in the ether where a million minds wandered simultaneously.

2
The first time I remember touching something in a dream I awoke immediatly. It took me years to hone my mind to give in to itself, to control its startling. I had dreamed with all my senses since youth, but smell came first and most naturally and most pleasantly , without effort. And it was here, now in the ether, that your first drew yourself to me. At least that is the story I believe myself to have dreamed.

3
It was quiet in the city. Taxis broke the morning mist, tracking exhaust in their breeze. And people walked in the streets visibly exhaling breaths that lingered before fleeting. The certain smell of coming rain rose slow and silently from the asphalt. Its unmistakable scent I recognized immediatly with ease. Throughout the day I waited for the rain to cleanse the masses and at noon the fog had risen and the sky was vanishing, covered quickly by a thousand clouds full of all but mystery. The future can be told in clouds if only you can dream. And so I did and rain it poured until the streets became like streams. All the while I watched the scene unfold still waiting patiently for another certain scent to drift into my lucid dream.

4
I remember the fresh summer scent of lilacs licking my nose as I studied your naked body next to mine. A cool draft blew in through a broken window pane delivering me something: heaven scent. I lied to you and told you I could not see the scars that marred your back, your perfect skin. I knew that you would never see them even with the aid of a mirror. You lied and said you loved me. Still today I´m unsure whos lie was worse.
New breezes brought boquets to your balcony where we sat reading eachothers poetry and body language. I could have written a book on lies alone. "Close your eyes and zou´re alone. You´re far away but you´re at home. Anywhere you go, you know I´m with you, no, you know." My ironic lyric tickled you, I saw it in your face and in your bigest tells of all: the fanning of your fingers, your desprate need for some embrace. I alway hesitated but I also always give more than I take so when your insecurities surfaced I tried to build you up with grace. And what I got still tortures my senses in the middle of some nights. Your scent moves like a nightengale, it is silent but it is bright, it flies through my mind but vanishes faster than the speed of light. Into the ether that surrounds us all again.

5
Blood rushed out of the stormdrain, tracing back accross some sidewalk, and into my body mouth, face, skull. Belly flopped I´m rising higher, faster than an elevator, screaming forty floors until I slow and finally, find my feet. Each step taken away is taken like it´s been done before. As if I knew what was to happen before I opened the window. Before I closed the door. Before I hit the button. Before I closed the door. Before I turned the car off. Before, before before.
Death on pavement lets an odor go. The life we live while in the air is all we care to know.
Don´t tell me that the future is faster or that I am already old, you know that what we "know" is what we "know," becasue we have been told. But tell yourself a lie, "yes you are young," and see if it will hold, you know we only know just what we know because we have been told. I don´t believe myself, you know I´m certain I´ll die before I´m "old." But please remember that no matter what, no one mans words are gold. We all die no matter if we´re "old."

6
Confused like a hot tap gushing cold. I am lost in a place that I don´t even know. I want to push it, open the tap a little more, but it runs away like ice melts in your palm. And I remember back when I was young how ice hissed in my Coke before it cracked and left me sitting there so wattered down at home. But now just doesn´t that time fade into space or to another realm, replacing things to be replaced, replacing time itself? Why don´t the clocks keep ticking on their own time, why do they need our help? Our hands are all the same. We can shake them, we can shout, we can casue alarms so harmless and can also be so loud. Without our hands or eyes or heads our hearts would hardly have a place to go, someone to see, you see time makes us feel so proud. Because! We made it and believe it so much without a doubt. If time was gone what would we care about?

7
Having a hard time finding my way into the ether, its not the drink, I got no drugs, so I know it´s not neither. I haven´t lied in days, no that´s a lie, I haven´t lied since yesterday, well here it is I´m wide awake and still the ether that I know is here is weak.
I´m swimming through an ocean of ice, there are hot waves that break through, but each stroke is a fight. You are drowning but I can´t do a thing. When I dive down to get you I freeze up and then I see bubbles. You´re breathing just fine. I hate that you´re wasting my time. Like a fisherman fishing with no hooks just line, I wrap you up thinking you´re mine. But you slip away into seaweed and ryhme, "You. You don´t have a clue. You´ve got bait and a line, but you got no hook."
Well what do you want me to do? I´m drowning just trying to listen to you. I will wash up on the beach white with sand. You will never see me again. I promise. Now that´s a good plan.

8
Underwater, underground is filled with space and silent sounds. The bubbles carry breaths away with air and empty space. Sinking faster throught the dirt, the well is wishing deeper things like fairytales so timeless they have never even been told. So swift water rushed from our bodies and our minds. They together all at once remind us we are one. The dirt we eat is time we take, is food our only sustinance? Does conversation nourish us or are words, as people, fake? Now floating faster winds awake, my eyes are open as the sea is great. How much water can a wish displace if dreams take me to outerspace? Reality, eternity: they fight but they are both for me.

10
Once I rose from the ashes spit from a furnace into the navy blue sky. I sweat, sheets twisted at my feet, mattress soaked in the shape of a body. Into the atmosphere I becasue, finding myself and in a trillion places. At once I was lost and found. At once I was hot and cold. At once I was everywhere and nowhere as my ashes covered the ground.
You swept the walk in your garden. I fell into the rows of fruits and flowers, giving my dry flesh to the earth. What did not land in the planters was treated like dirt: swept up, removed, and forgotten. At least you were clean.
You took a sip of water. The falling ash agitated your throat, made your voice raspy and rough. And I couldn´t find all of me in your garden, nor in your body, though I took a look just to see.
On the ocean I fell and was carried to beaches when I soon turned into sand. Each wave brought new pieces and parts into being, before long the tides returned me to the sea. The trade windsnpulled me apart as I sailed on their swift currents. Warm breezes brought me into port cities where people came and went. Into rivers I fell and was delivered to soil or lakes or deltas or the mouths of fish. It were the fish that helped me return to myself in a night, I thought impossibly. Some fisherman caught me. They sold and they bought me until again all ended up in the sea. Eventually everything finds itself somewhere, that somewhere for me was the sea.

11
Pause. There she is. Her eyes already own me. Her spirit intertwines with mine. But it´s not like that´s never happened before. It´s always been this way. I´ll come back and get you even if you don´t want me. I gotta fight myself before I take you on. I know I´m right, I know we´re wrong.
You say something I´d rather not hear and I reply, "I think you´re pretty when you´re quiet," and so it goes. And you are not beautiful at night, but when the lights are on you turn me on, like them, if that´s alright. I think it´s alright. And you say, you say that you don´t lie, but I can see straight through your eyes, you´re wrong, I´m right. You lie, you lie.

Ah, wow. That is brutal.. Yea, I know I skipped 9. It wasn´t that good anyways, hahahaha. There is a lot more but in time it will come. It all comes back to the city and it is beautiful like all you people.

And tomorrow I will post photos and maybe a journal entry if I feel up to the task. THanks for reading all my bs :)))

Sean