Wait a minute. Bring that back..

This weekend went by so fast, I still feel like its Sunday. Everything is mashed up inside my brain. All in all, it was a great time. I managed to x out a lot of things on my "to-do list," and that always feels good. Makes u feel accomplished. Makes u breathe easier..makes u finally wanna sit down and watch all those dvds u borrowed from ur aunt that u know u soon will have to return. Did I watch any TV. Heck no.

I found myself chillaxin on Saturday in the company of good ppl. Once again, trekked it uptown in search of loving in the city streets. Makes me sound like I'm on the prowl...haha.. Nah, not me. Before the sun rose on sunday morning, I was feeling the strange intoxication of new love. By the time the sun set that Sunday evening, it vanished. It wasnt so much the feeling of love, cuz i know thats not what I felt..not even lust. It was that joyful feeling of having someone interested in you. Maybe. A little. Whatever.

I woke up this morning to see that it snowed. Snow is bad when you have plans. But my plans were quickly cancelled as soon as they were thought up. It turned out snow was actually great on a day like today. On a holiday, when working means getting paid a lot more then usual. I would like to send a shout out to my dick-head co-worker, William Gonzalez. The man woke up extra early this morning to shovel snow that wasnt going anywhere to begin with. By the time I woke up [pretty late], he had done all the work, and managed to complain to our boss that no one was there to help. Much to everybody's amazement, including mine..my boss was pretty cool about it all. Told me if I wanted to punch in, do nothing and get paid $40 an hr, I could. U gotta love that.
So today, I chilled indoors, doing nothing...getting paid. How you like them apples, Willie? Suck my dick while i sleep! I hope next time he wakes up early again and attempts to make the rest of us look bad. I can get pretty use to doing nothing and getting paid well for it.
I think I'm tired now.
Peace.

Lost in Thought

For some strange reason, its always easier to write at night. After the day is spent, words seem to flow with so much ease. Ideas come randomly, I suddenly want to create. I guess I'll write.

I have this thing about me in that I don't care what people think about me. To a certain extent, cuz I seem to really want to make great impressions. I never want the other person to get the wrong idea from me. Yet, its so hard when I'm filled with so many traits. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a poser, or someone trying hard to be accepted. I just want to be understood. Period.

In the 23 years that I've lived, I know that I'm not like a lot of people. I'm different in many ways [aren't we all?]. Sometimes, I don't know who I am. I was on the train the other day, reading an ad about some school of philosophy. It asked if you ever wondered "who am i? What am I doing here?" I laughed so hard as I read it, and then my laughter subsided as I realized that I've felt like that many times. Deep down, I know who I am, but I wonder if I'm giving off the right message. Sometimes, in my quest for laughter, I may come off as immature..and sometimes while deep in thought, I might seem a little to stiff, on the edge of morbidity. What u radiate determines who u attract. I'm always trying to fine-tune my radiations. Like putting out the cheese for the mouse.

I guess I'm blabbing at this point. Nobody reads this anyway, except for you.
hahahaha..funny how "you" can stand for anybody who's reading, if indeed they are reading. Which brings me to this question: If a Dominican from Brooklyn writes a blog and no one is there to read it, does it exist?
Peace.

Happy V-day? Nigguh, I'll kill you

Last night was a perfect example of why I am single. It was like some weird controlled experiment by God or something. You put 2 guys with diff ways of approaching a girl in a room with a beautiful girl, and u see who comes out the "victor."

Hang-out Day was due yesterday, so I trekked to Washington Heights to chill with my boy. He said something about going to a lounge, but i wasnt in the mood to drink and sit and talk. "Why don't we go to a poolhall, where we can drink and play and talk?" It seemed like a better idea. He was insistant, and so we ended up at the lounge. The game plan was to order a drink and chill for a while, then we'd split and go to the poolhall. Upon entering the locale, we encounter the prettiest creature in a 10 block radius. Omgoodness, i havent seen a girl like that in a long time. I mean, the city is filled with beautiful women, but this was different. it sounds corny to say that i thought we had a moment when i looked at her and she held my gaze as well. If i didnt know any better, her facial expression was "damn." I know mine was. I was glowing as she talked to me, but i played it cool, cuz thats my M.O...i play it cool.

Not my friend. He is very foward, very aggressive, very "strong."
After being in there for about half hour and chatting with her for a bit, she walked to where we were sitting and handed him a piece of paper. My heart sank.

"damn, u already asked her for her number?"
"yep."

That bastard doesn't play.
The entire night, I was secretly beating myself up. I couldn't player hate or anything..but damn...he's quick.

Testing...is this thing on?

I never wanted a diary. I always thought that ppl with diaries were weak-minded ppl who didnt have the balls to say what they thought. I always thought that these ppl were dying to be looked at, and as they scribed away, they secretly wanted someone to find their diaries and read everything. Since a blog is the net equivalent of a diary, I never got one. Why get one now? Cuz I'm bored at work