Of course…

I wrote this after taking four shots of Robitussin and reading the entirety of Cat’s Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut.  I forgot about it until I was looking through my notebook recently and found it.  It seems like my emotions were out of balance at the time and when I read this I think about Bobby Boucher’s mother yelling “That girl is the devil!”   I am hoping this is a more eloquent version of that anecdote with the same affect.  Just keep in mind the Robitussin.

——————————————————————–

Of Course…

They sat in a small french cafe with its white table cloths and light wooden chairs.  The place was filled with natural light that made her eyes look like the morning.  They had coffee and croissants together and they joked about how the place would be their own little parisian get away from the cesspool of Hollywood.  The way he stared at her was the way a father stares at his daughter as she performs on stage.

His phone rang incessantly but he did not notice the vibrating in his pocket.  A commercial airliner roared over head and his attentiveness to her remained unwavering.  A train rumbled past them so close that you could hear the patrons of the dining car conversing about how the chicken was over cooked.  His gaze was still unabated.  A car crashed through the front window of the cafe and hung there to the right of them with the engine still running and ambulances rushing to the scene.  Still he looked upon her unmolested by outside forces.  Then the earth shook violently and rattled the entire world.  The ground fell off and splintered away around them into a dark hell-fire.

She said to him

“My what a marvelous hole! Would you jump in it for me?”

He replied

“Of course darling”

He got up and wiped the bread crumbs from his jeans.  Then he turned and jumped into the abyss, with a smile.

Advertisements

Bad Bitches

I wrote this October of 2014 and when I read it just now I thought it was so fucking funny that I felt the need to post it again.  Please Read

———————-

Bad Bitches Only

The chef in this place has a hat turned backwards which reads “bad bitches only” even though I agree with his hat it seems inappropriate for the current circumstance which is a hipster coffee shop. You know the ones I’m talking about. Overpriced lattes and slices of pie. Wooden chairs and a quaint demeanor probably playing Lana Del Rey “Summertime Sadness”. Filled to the brim with girls on there phones and guys sitting with laptops and headphones tucked under their beanies trying to figure out something cool to do on their computer. Please find humor in the fact that I just described myself perfectly but back to the hat. I would say only about 17% of the people in this place know exactly what a bad bitch is. The fact that anyone is present here in this coffee automatically disqualifies them from bad bitch standing. Which is entirely contradictory to his hat. I mean i’m pretty sure this fucking place is called pie. I haven’t seen one person buy a slice of pie. I think it would be better if this place was called wifi because thats the only reason anyone comes here. In regards to the “bad bitches only” hat, I think it would be funnier if it said “basic bitches only” because no one ever says that. I also feel like it would be more appropriate in this current situation. I am willing to associate my name with basic bitches for the sake of bringing you this story. I think you should appreciate the sacrifice. Next time you are in one if these coffee shops (if you ever are) look around and count how many bad bitches there are. I bet you the ratio of bad to basic bitches would astound you. I mean the guy woke up this morning heading to his job at Pie to make pies and made a decision to put on a hat that said “bad bitches only”. He has got to be overcompensating for something. Maybe he himself lacks the multitude of bad bitches that his hat seems to claim. Maybe he had a bad bitch but she moved on to greener pastures and now he is wearing the hat because he still hasn’t moved on. Maybe he is worried about his own basicness so he wears the hat to make people think he only associates with bad bitches. I feel you brother but you must accept your basicness if it is inside you. If you like to watch Dexter all night and drive a Vespa to work that’s who you are and you should be proud. I accept you. Take off the hat. At least now whenever I eat a piece of pie I will think about the man in the bad bitch hat and I will remember to always accept myself for who I am and not let anyone tell me who I am. I am a bad bitch

morning flowers

His alarm had been yelling at him since 5:30am and still he refused to awaken.  Even when he sleeps with the purpose of waking up early, he ends up rushing to work with a half a cup of coffee spilling as he rushes down the steps of his apartment building.  The fresh Peonies that sit out on the dining room table are pink, white and purple.  They shine in the morning light that comes through the vertical blinds.  He stood there winding up his designer tie.  The stress of his morning is exacerbated by the time crunch.  But the succulence of the flowers doesn’t go unnoticed.  He paused to admire their color and smell them.  The scent of them still occupying his nostrils as he bolts out of the door.

There was a moment in the day, amidst the whirlwind of printer paper and suits.  A moment where he sat staring straight ahead, as if he was looking off into the distance even though there was no expanse in front of him.  He referred back to the morning when he was admiring the flowers.  His heart settled and his mind slowed its pace to a saunter.

The flowers were the first thing he looked for as he arrived home from work.

Resolutions

12-29-14

The year is coming to a close.  At the start of this very journal I set a goal for myself.  The goal was to read and write more.  I can say that I am satisfied with what I have accomplished this year.  22 pages total this year on this particular journal.  I have been keeping another journal which is hand written.  This journal has a comparable number of pages.  I have read about ten or more books this year.  I have matured greatly as a writer in terms of my prose and my fear of showing people my writing.  My self consciousness has been somewhat alleviated since the start of this year.  I can’t say with all certainty that I am ready for the world to see what I write.  But i self indulge myself with hints to my social network of my blog affair.  As if it was some mistress that I cling to during the lonely nights of inspiration.  Only a few get the privilege to view it.  A privilege I’m sure it must be, because if a colleague asked me to read a similar scribe that they themself wrote.  I would find it a privilege to read and comment on such writing.

I enjoy this feeling.  I set goals for myself at the beginning of the year.  Now here we arrive at the end of 2014 and I have dove into a pool of retrospection.  I wrote,  I wrote with passion and with my heart poured into pages so that one might feel it in theirs.  I started my blog and I reached my goals in writing and reading.  It wasn’t a sprint like I hoped, it wasn’t a marathon like I was afraid it might be.  It was more like a steady increase in pace culminating into today.  What I mean is that I didn’t write and read madly all year.  I also didn’t take glorious gaps in my work.  Towards the beginning it was slow.  I would read a few pages, write a few wayward paragraphs.  Over the course of the year it started to materialize into something noticeable.  I read more books this year than I have in any year prior.  My writing has become more precise and clear.  At least from my perspective.  It is a joy to me that I still have much to improve upon.  More goals for me to reach, more for me to learn, it puts a smile on my face knowing that I have solely motivated myself into becoming better.

I have a wide range of interests and curiosities.  What is left when you take the monetary value off of anything especially when everything in our world has a price.  The answer is art.  Even though art is creative and brand new it can be refined through learning.  I want to know everything.  But I know that I cannot know everything.  I want to learn.  I want to learn as much as possible.  I want to learn how to play the piano.  I want my house parties to hosted by white and black keys.  Lull loquacious ladies like Liberace would.  I want to learn french.  Je veux connaître la langue de l’amour.  These hobbies must be treated as my writing this year.  With increasing pace I should come to find a checkpoint of progress.  I need not fear disappointment as the disappointment would lie with zero progression.  If I only learn one more word of french this year it will be a step forward.  If I am able to play one note I will be satisfied.

There is a variety of other mundane tasks I have appointed myself in this coming New Year.  The usual suspects, stop smoking, diet, gym, cut back on drugs and alcohol.  Charming little goals for me and everybody else.  I mustn’t scoff at them in that they do provide benefits.  Among the other clear ones like health and wealth, it will add clarity to my art.  My work is steady and constant, my family is loved and beloved, my social life always insists upon itself.  I will find my happiest time, my joy in life in my art and others who would be interested in partaking.  In this here rat race of life you must distinguish yourself from other rats.  Find meaning in the pictures hung on the halls on the way to the cheese.

“bad bitches only”

The chef in this place has a hat turned backwards which reads “bad bitches only” even though I agree with his hat it seems inappropriate for the current circumstance which is a hipster coffee shop. You know the ones I’m talking about. Overpriced lattes and slices of pie. Wooden chairs and a quaint demeanor probably playing Lana Del Rey “Summertime Sadness”. Filled to the brim with girls on there phones and guys sitting with laptops and headphones tucked under their beanies trying to figure out something cool to do on their computer. Please find humor in the fact that I just described myself perfectly but back to the hat. I would say only about 17% of the people in this place know exactly what a bad bitch is. The fact that anyone is present here in this coffee automatically disqualifies them from bad bitch standing. Which is entirely contradictory to his hat. I mean i’m pretty sure this fucking place is called pie. I haven’t seen one person buy a slice of pie. I think it would be better if this place was called wifi because thats the only reason anyone comes here. In regards to the “bad bitches only” hat, I think it would be funnier if it said “basic bitches only” because no one ever says that. I also feel like it would be more appropriate in this current situation. I am willing to associate my name with basic bitches for the sake of bringing you this story. I think you should appreciate the sacrifice. Next time you are in one if these coffee shops (if you ever are) look around and count how many bad bitches there are. I bet you the ratio of bad to basic bitches would astound you. I mean the guy woke up this morning heading to his job at Pie to make pies and made a decision to put on a hat that said “bad bitches only”. He has got to be overcompensating for something. Maybe he himself lacks the multitude of bad bitches that his hat seems to claim. Maybe he had a bad bitch but she moved on to greener pastures and now he is wearing the hat because he still hasn’t moved on. Maybe he is worried about his own basicness so he wears the hat to make people think he only associates with bad bitches. I feel you brother but you must accept your basicness if it is inside you. If you like to watch Dexter all night and drive a Vespa to work that’s who you are and you should be proud. I accept you. Take off the hat. At least now whenever I eat a piece of pie I will think about the man in the bad bitch hat and I will remember to always accept myself for who I am and not let anyone tell me who I am. I am a bad bitch

First Post

My first post would be in a fucking starbucks on Melrose. I do not know where I found the motivation to walk here today and start this blog. I have been feeling reinvigorated with the amount of reading and writing I have been doing lately. There is something about writing that I am attracted to and is hard to ignore. Part of it is the ability to be able to create something that is my own. I can separate myself from millions of others on the planet by creating something that is completely original. Contradictory to my current situation of me sitting in a Starbucks with and iced coffee a laptop and headphones writing in a blog that is my own. It is a complete fantasy of mine for people to read my writing and feel something. This first post is me overcoming the self consciousness I have of people reading what I write. This blog will supplement the satisfaction I feel writing for myself, so that others might be able to enjoy my words. There are very few things I am passionate about. But at least I have a few things rather than no things. I loathe the idea of a human being who isn’t passionate about at least one thing in their existence. This new found love for the art of word and the power of books has given me something. I feel like whenever I turn a page or finish a sentence I know more about the world than I did before. I just saw a dude riding his Harley down the street, with his hands on his hips and his eyes turned to the sky. He looked completely free and happy with the LA sun in his face. I can only hope to one day attain this sort of joy with something i am passionate about. Now I could be completely wrong in his mood, his dog could have just died or some shit but I am going to take the positive away from it. Writing keeps me constantly motivated to get better. I only needed to read one line by Ernest Hemingway to know that I wanted to create images with my words “She was as soft as piano keys” he said. I lack the ability to immerse myself in my writing completely due to the fact that I have a job and other responsibilities. But it is a hobby that has found new life inside of me, and I hope whoever reads will enjoy it and take it for what it is.

Find your passion and it will find you

-Nico