Category: thoughts

Its often funny to think about what love means to each and everyone of us.  Whether the love for a puppy, sibling, lover, or friend – is all love created equal?  What is the one love that holds no judgment, no fear, no insecurity?  The type of love that is given freely instead of being earned?

Websters describes this love as “unconditional love.”  It states – “Unconditional love is a term that means to love someone regardless of his actions or beliefs..”  But can you really truly love someone regardless of their actions? When someone has done you wrong or misguided your trust, can you trully love them?  What is love anyways and who’s job is it to identify these rules as to what unconditional love is?

I past relationships I have seen couples stay together because of this “unconditional love.”  Their response to the question “why not just leave them?”  – “Its not so much THEM per say, its their actions.  My love for them is unconditional.” right.

I ask my self – how long can someone play the unconditional card?  Is true love really unconditional?  or is that we mistake “real” love and pretend that it is unconditional?

My brother has always had my unconditional love and while we may not see eye-to-eye on a lot of subjects, we have always respected each other. Sometimes his actions can seem radical, crazy, uncontrolled but somehow , some way, my father bails him out. When I ask my father why he does what he does KNOWING that my brother will just go back to doing the same, he replies – “he is my son and I love him unconditionally” When it come to family – do they naturally obtain your unconditional love?  Is the love of family unconditional?  And how many times must one person fuck up for that love to be taken away?  Will it ever be taken away?

As it was said by a great witter –

“…I’ll probably never understand ya way,
With everyday I swear I hear ya,
Trying to change your way – unconditional love” – Tupac Shakur

Thank you for your words that you did not say
But I ask you kindly  – “please don’t go away”
I am scared of the last line of your verse
Am sure this can be resolved if we just sit and converse
..of the things which I did and the things that were said
It is not my intention to fuck with your head
I never asked you to monitor you actions
I am surprise at your words and reaction
I said lets play it by ear…yes I mean it, did you hear?
Put down your wall, there is not time for your fear
No I cant am sorry, I choose not to accept
The “work” that you do and the undies you kept
I do see the change and I guess I need to be patient
Time will pass by and so will my patience
So I ll leave you the time in taking your brake
But ask yourself – what is really at stake?

I am uncertain of what is to happen tomorrow
Of my will being strong and me feeling no sorrow
My mind tends to wonder as the days go by
And my anger keeps amassing
My spirit shatters and multiplies

I am uncertain of the wrinkles in my face
The years in my hands and history without trace
I keep tracking my adventures
My log pages are beginning to fill
With the nonsense that requires correction

I am uncertain that I will not leave something behind
Something small yet peculiar to remind,
You of ME – who is reading my log
And for me to take when I am gone
I ll write it in paper, wall, script, or stone

I am uncertain of whom I ll become
I have three forms that I am transforming
Sitting here displeased
So displeased that I am yearning to stop being discerning

I am uncertain of what I am writing
Only certainty comes at time of clarity and that thereof
I am certain of death – yes death
That is all that is left to be assured of

I am uncertain of what is left to be certain for

I stopped and thought today – what am i really doing here?  As many years have passed since I left my home in Cuba and I now I am in the path of becoming man that I was meant to be, I can help but think of my past and the experiences that have gotten me here today.  I guess sometimes I cant seem to shake the things of the past nor can I avoid the inevitable hand of fate.  Does fate really exist?  Is there some higher power out there that has written our lives out for us and we are just mere characters in its book of eternity?  Or, do we as individuals have the right to shape our unique path?

As I walked home yesterday from work I looked around me and for a moment stopped and thought – “do i really live here?”  Ask me 10 years ago and I would have never told you that I would be living here in this city that I now call home.  Sometimes i think i am actually dreaming; that the boy who grew up in the campos of Cuba live in the center of the world, NYC.

I friend of mine will soon be leaving me to return home and so I cant help but wonder when will my time come.  When will fate draws its hand out to me and move me to the next chapter in my life.  Will I live in this city forever? Or is my time here temporary just like all the others who have come before me?

Only Fate may have the answers to my questions

Como te miro tu voca,
Como si nunca la e tocado
Y como admiro tus ojos
Sin una mirada darte
Como tu sonrisa y vos
Me ensienden mi pecho
Y adentro de un crystal te veo
Sin tocarte y ya estas echo

Como mis palabras quieren conocer
Las cosas mas intimas de tu vida
Apprendo sin apprender tu forma
Y como en tu voca te toco
Se me calienta mi corrazon
Mi sangre tan roja como los rojos
Y solo en tu mirada sera la ves que es y no es

Quiero conoser contigo las cosas mas extraordinarias
Y el sielo tocar a tu lado soriendonos
Pero tu tiempo se esta acavando
Ya veo que te vas
Un dia mas, te lo pido
Deja que sea – lo que sera, sera

As I left work yesterday I received call from an old friend who I had not spoken to in quite some time.  As we began to talk, I stopped in the middle of it and smile, knowing that while I did not speak to this person in over 4 months – here we were having a conversation as if I had spoken to them yesterday.  When I hung up, I got to wondering about friendships and how different friends fit into your life.

If you measure a “strong friendship” by how many times a week you call someone or how often you speak and/or see them, then I am by far the worst friend you will ever have.   I have a tendency to not use my phone a lot nor do I “text”.   Call me old fashioned but to me texting someone is not a way of communicating nor does is substitute a phone call or going out for a cup of coffee.

As the years pass and different people come into my life I have learned to separate where they come from and where they’ll fit.   Some people you will know for a lifetime, while others will only come into your life for a given time and then leave.  Some come with good intentions, while others are there to bring you down.   I ask myself all the time – how does this person make me feel?  Do they encourage me?  Are they just here to talk about themselves and have they even heard a single word that I said?  After speaking to them, do I feel better or worse?

I think about when I was younger and all the bullshit people use to bring around me and how sometimes I allowed myself to get involved into it.  The same people, with the same story  – all going about their lives so insignificantly.  Same mindless chatter,  same story, same script just different characters.   While sometimes you cant change those around you, you can change those YOU’RE around.  Now a few years older, I want to become someone who seeks more than the norm.  I seek truth, respect, love, growth, and above all quality over quantity.

If someone where to write a book on my life, who would they choose to be those around me?  Who will fit into my story?  Who will shape the pages of my life? How will they fit into my life?  In my final show when the curtains close and I am gone, who will mourn me?  Who will even be there at all?  And where will they sit in the audience during my final farewell show.  Where will my friends now sit?  Not everyone deserves front row seats.

As time passes and friends come and go  -I have learned to choose my audience carefully.

If you have not already heard in the news – listen up.   One of the most amazing scientific research is going on right now that will change the way physics see things.   See link below:

Large Hadron Collider

Pretty mazing stuff huh?

I saw it yesterday, as the sun was bright
I thought of you and what you were doing
It brought a smile upon my face
Your secret place

A place where times just stops
Where water falls down like rain drops
I saw the angel and it touched my soul
Ur secret place of privacy from all

In my mind this is where you live
Smiling, with your art and hat

Ill sit here, in my dream state
“In a matter of speaking” – this is where I ll wait

???? –  A question I began to wonder on my way to work as I overheard a mother tell her daughter that she was not acting like a proper “Hispanic” girl.  The term sounded strange to me.

I can recall countless times back in Florida when I would use the term Hispanic interchangeably with my friends.  I never wondered where it came from or whom made it up.  I heard it in school and so I just accepted it.  Funny how youth can you just accept without even asking.  My mind began to wonder.

My research has found that the term “Hispanic” was created back in the 80s by the Reagan Administration to categorize those of non white or black decent.  But did those given the term really want it?  Why did they make it up?  and why call it such a term?  Would a person from mexico be categorized under the same label as someone from Puerto Rico?  Are they really just the same?  Some would argue that the “dominant culture” imposed this label on Latinos as a way of erasing their indentiy and their past.  My hypothesis? – mission accomplished.

Through the years I have met many who have come to call themselves Americans even though it is quite apperant that they are Latino.  I have seen Latinos worked hard to change their indentity to fit the cultural norms.  I have even met some who would look down upon those of their same culture, act snobbish because they are from a different city, speak a different dialect, and even gone as far as to change their name to completely erase any strand of “Latino” in them.

I must admit there have been times were I would question my cultures’ actions, felt ashamed about my name, and through time focused on diminishing my accent.  But time has a funny way of changing things and, to be quite honest, I never felt like a “minority” when I lived in Florida.  As life has taken me to different places around the world I have come to realize that maybe I dont want to answer this question.  Maybe neither label defines whom I am.

I am a proud, educated, intelligent – LATINO man

So ask yourself the question – are you hispanic or latino?  You will find that the answer is not quite as simple as the question.

Yo listen up…..yes you?

That’s right you. I am talking to you.
Your going to listen to what I have to say
Though you might now want to
Sit down, shut up,  and open your ears
Lets me tell you want you NEED to hear

You may not want to, but this time its me
Have you no respect for what’s happening here
I need to speak, but feel that I am bounded
Bounded to your lies, charm, and free will
But that’s right its not about you this time
Its about me, yeah that’s right ME.

So NO, save your reply – I will not listen anymore
Your “truth” I can’t decipher
Listen to me this time and I’ll raise my volume higher
I will not repeat it once or twice – because your going to listen
Listen now and don’t speak back a word
Your lies and replies – save them, they are not needed
To the truth that I am speaking to you now

Yes now not tomorrow, so I hope your getting the message
Uh what?  Yes that’s right the message
If you don’t understand well to bad and so tough
Hey now, don’t worry, you’ll comprehend soon enough