”wait only for my boot heels to be wanderin”’
- bob dylan in Mr. Tambourine Man

”you can’t wander without love beside you”
- deer tick’s Nevada

”happiness only real when shared”
Christopher McCandless

fernweh heimweh

being pulled in both directions at once, and when you’re young you just want to escape; leave and scorch the earth. but i learned and now i yearn for the home that can’t be defined or pricked - held fast like the pin on a map. i’m headed back now soon, for the people that i love and know. and i know more, have found what i need or what i already had but never saw, so that we will build nests together in every place we pass through, living in the comfort of one another. so while my wandering days, they aren’t nearly to an end, they’re simply ready to keep sharing. feel like i’ve accepted that sharing is better than having or receiving, and the gauzed glow of friends who are doing that which they set out to do, blind post utero until they walked through the hot coals of our native rites of passage - hardly visible any more, but wickedly flickering like ethanol burning clear. this is the year of my salvation from myopia.

editorialcerebro:

//EDICIÓN VERANO
//2012

//SUMMER EDITION

//CONTRIBUTORS

well hey, that’s pretty neat. keep your eyes peeled!

a memory with a single fault, once noticed, is nullified. it ceases to be a recollection, immediately resorted as a fanciful creation of what could have been. it loses its soul, becomes the framework of things - something you can’t call whole. it becomes the same bias you feel upon entering a house devoid of furnishings; you tell yourself to envision a future of matching furniture sets and a family at home, but that product of your brain - which is to say you - can’t be allowed to leave its full-weighted impression. these tainted memories begin to leak, corroding and spreading like maddening decay until entire nostalgias seem catalogued reproductions of something you start to wonder if you’d even recognize any more.

so you’ve got to let them lodge deeper, into sensations and not film clippings. you have to scrub acetone until you reach the not-entirely-physical radiation you once knew.

smashing all the empty beer bottles
collected in the attic room
where i’ve spent the past year
in my head

slowly picking out pieces
of all the shattered thoughts
and using them to create a sculpture
entitled ‘getting somewhere’

i’m way too fucking poor
for this city
i don’t care about money
but i can’t reach people.

this whole place is an antique store
‘do not touch’
— thanks, the management

i haven’t felt
the human in a persons’ eyes
since i’ve been here.

around november of last year, i settled into a bottle of wine, and then decided to write my application essay for the university of chicago. the results are as follows. i like to think this is the main reason why i was(again) denied admission.

The University of Chicago - it’s like the James Bond of higher education: extremely intelligent, innovative, and no lack of high-power connections to make things happen. University of Chicago is a place where students can actively participate in the most current research in their field of study - my interests lie in Spanish Literature and Linguistics. I yearn to sift through folios, to spend hours analyzing a text, and most of all to add a discovery of my own to the current canon of knowledge in my field. University of Chicago is the perfect institute for the motivated student to become enraptured by his studies and his research, as the community is as a whole devoted to the pursuit of knowledge and understanding(1). This is what I am seeking - an intellectual oasis where input can be found from the very brightest in a variety of fields, where discussion and debate drive innovation, and everyone benefits from the culture of the institution. Another contributing factor in my desire to attend the University of Chicago is a wounded ego - after all, it’s pretty rough being turned down by one’s academic 007. Sure, perhaps my educational record isn’t exactly ‘Bond girl’ material, but we all know James had a soft-spot for the markedly less glamorous Ms. Moneypenny.

(1) - in which i make the startling revelation that the community of an institute of higher learning is interested in… learning.

hi guys. i have a new e-chapbook titled schwerverletzt which you can download here. it’s a collection of previously posted poems and flash fiction of mine from the last few months. thanks!

today i want to burn into the quiet corners of the earth,
be extinguished by rain showers of such little significance
even the most devout of weather-watchers doesn’t bother report.

i want to feel in my bones and their marrow
the slow hiss of a cigarette put out in a puddle.

unverbindlich
non-binding. when i hear this word, i remember the movie ‘AI: Artificial Intelligence’ and it makes me sad.

schwerverletzt
critically injured. as part of my job i have to read stuttgart’s 2 main newspapers everyday and this word comes up basically daily. even though this is not the meaning of the word, i feel like it’s the perfect sounds to describe some days when i don’t feel like i am a truly functioning person.

geistige behinderung
mental retardation/handicap. this word makes me feel like a hairline fracture in the glass case of a museum housing religious items, the kind of things both life-long traditionalist and overweight tourists come to visit.