Just a journal.

[theboxesinmyhead-blog]

Blank Page

Hey Blank Page, looks like we're here again. Don't be so mean to me today. My nerves are sensitive, I've been shedding my skin. Be patient with me while I find my words. You know I'm a slow burning flame and I'm going to take my time.   Come, Blank Page, let's sit down for a minute. You're always coming around here at this time; so demanding. I have been looking into me again. I'm searching for my light. I'm looking for my art, my poetry, and my truth. I need to learn to feed my spirit and articulate my own heat. I want to find that voice; the one that hides behind the clutter just  passed the ego.   I have nothing else for you today. I don't want to force it.

So...

See you tomorrow?

Same time?

...

[theboxesinmyhead-blog]

Love And Music

There is a man who suffers from amnesia.  He would keep a journal where he would write: 9:06 am - I just woke up for the first time. 9:30 am - I am now waking for the first time for real. Please disregard the last post 10:45 am - I have awakened for the first time ever. The last posts have been in error.

  He has no future or past. He can only live the exact moment he is breathing in. He doesn't know his name, or where he is from, or even how he got to the chair where he is sitting. But, when his wife walks in the room his face lights up. He states clearly with complete certainty that this is his wife. Out of habit, his wife would sing while she does the chores and the man will sing along with her. He would remember the lyrics of the song and even play them on the piano. We now know that love and music are stored in a different part of the brain; a special place far from memory and the parts that are connected to our identity.   What does it feel like when you love someone? When you love, really love, the kind of love that transcends our sexuality and reason, I find it's impossible to describe because love is unsayable. Love lives in a place that is beyond the reach of words. Poetry has a limited effect on the ones who never loved.   May I be so fortunate and cursed to be chosen by this love again.

Someday, when my mind violently unravels and I am dragged away by some sickness, I will still have one thing; I will still have the songs that remind me of my love.

[theboxesinmyhead-blog]

Celluloid

I was listening to a podcast yesterday called "Risk!" where they tell true and disturbing stories. During the introduction of the podcast, they suggested listening to another podcast that talks about books. In the new podcast, they were talking about writing a screenplay. I know this sounds crazy, but I think that some force is pulling me towards writing a screenplay.   A couple of weeks ago I was writing on the typewriter in my living room. One of my friends had stopped by and saw what I was writing and asked me if I have ever written a screenplay. I thought it to be a weird question to ask because I wasn't writing a story. I was free writing just to write. I was writing nonsensical garbage.   A couple of days ago a girlfriend asked me if I were to make a movie, what would it be about. I came up with a story for a comedy. I thought about that conversation for a while after that day. I had come up with characters and dialog in my head. When walking and driving I have conversations with my characters. I have caught myself talking out loud to no one; other people have caught me too.   I learned that you really don't need any experience to write a screenplay, according to the podcast. They were saying how all you need is a good story, making it sound easy. To make it even easier, the worst screenplays sell for $100,000. You can even get hired to write for a movie at $10,000 a week while not having absolutely any experience. Now you have my attention! I know it's not that easy, but it sounds like fun.   I went on the internet and started downloading screenplays to the movies I liked. I got the screenplay for "Vanilla Sky" with Tom Cruise, "RocknRolla" by Guy Ritchie, and "Fight Club". I spent all night reading screenplays and all day today comparing them to the movies. I actually enjoyed reading them and I can see myself writing them. Maybe one day I will.

Hey, you never know.

[theboxesinmyhead-blog]

Babel

In the bible when the people were trying to make a tower reaching the heavens, God looked down and said: "There is nothing that they can think of that they can't do." Where does this power lie? The next thing he did gives the answer: "Let's go down and confuse their speech."   Our power lies in our words. We are apex because of our ability to communicate, our capability to exchange ideas. I have subconsciously known this truth my whole life. Since my childhood, I have been careful of my choice of words. Words are very important to me.   Maybe that's the reason for my obsession with honing and bettering my writing skills. I want better words, more powerful words. I want eloquence.

I want to be the kind of writer that will turn someone on and move them to take action. I want my words to sway your mind and set fire to your heart.

[theboxesinmyhead-blog]

Child’s Play

Kids have it figured out. You never fully understand the freedom you have as a child playing and flirting until it's gone. Lately, I wonder how much of that energy has faded away from my life. How different am I really from my younger self.   I remember, what I think is my earliest memory, spending time with a girl I once knew in the Dominican Republic. She lived in a cinder-block and concrete house, common in the Caribbean, with a large black iron fence that looked like  a birdcage. She used to have a fortress wall made out of concrete filled cinder-blocks that stretched around the perimeter of the house with broken glass bottles cemented upside down to keep out unsavory people. There used to be an ever present burnt wood smell, that I never really knew where it came from. We were able to hear our parents talk inside the house through the paneled glass window. Her eyes looked like the ocean at night with the moon's reflection in it. I was completely drawn to her. She coaxed me away to show me a butterfly in a jar she had caught earlier that day. She spoke with an excitement and enthusiasm I rarely ever see anymore. I was enthralled by her existence. I was 4 years old.     Today in those moon filled nights, I still think of her and her smell that night. I wish I could still love the way I did that day. Life has given me the ability to love widely, at the cost of loving deeply.

[theboxesinmyhead-blog]

Simply Joy.

I was happy today.

Absolutely nothing special happened. The sky was distracting. It was warm and breezy. I was completely seduced by today.

Everything culminated to an ornate sunset. The color combinations were hypnotic. The sun said its final goodbye's and left us in the trusting hands of his lover, the moon.

The moon was modest and left some of her to the imagination. The stars strived to overcome the city lights, and somewhere triumphant.  The air was smooth. The scent of the fall leaves and the woody branches made the perfect ending to my day.

I said my good nights and welcomed sleep...

Until tomorrow.

[theboxesinmyhead-blog]

Wet and Gray.

The sky hangs low today. I step out into the gray and take in the smell of the wet concrete like when you first open a new book. Eager, I embrace the beginning of my day. Everyone drives and walks with a morose look on their faces. I like the sun am trying to shine my light through the thick curtain of clouds that draped a gray melancholy feel on the world. I feel like the last happy person on earth, but soon the darkness will consume my light.

  My car is like a bad woman that leaves you at the worst possible time. She decides to wrap her ashy hands around my happy heart in the middle of the rain and leave me stranded when I am the farthest from home. Juliana (my car) lets out this loud scream and lets me smell her burning anger. I inspect her to find out what was wrong, but she would not even smoke to give me a clue. I open the hood to trick myself into thinking that I know what I'm doing, but I end up getting more confused looking at the array of cables. By now I know that there is only one way out of this and it's to spend a fortune on my car.

  The tow truck comes with flaring lights like an ambulance and rushes Juliana to the mechanic. I rush to meet her there. Juliana gets there and the mechanic hurries over to see what was wrong with her. I fill the mechanic with questions like a frantic father. He assures me that everything is going to be okay and I wait in the waiting room like as if it were an emergency room in the hospital. My heart is beating in my throat. I am calculating in my head time spent here in an attempt to guess the price of this visit.

  Finally, she comes out! She looks and sounds great. I pay the bill (or ransom) to get my lady back. Driving home, I call one of the guys that I work with. We talk about my car breaking down and the correlation between cars and women. His car also broke down the day before. By the end of our conversation, my heart shakes off the dark ashes that built up around it and reignites the fire of my joy. You see, he doesn't have a car now because he can't afford to fix it. Though it was a bad day; it could've been worse. Thankfully I make enough to have money saved to get my car fixed the same day. My gray is a lot whiter than a lot of people. I notice that I should be grateful instead of bitter for what happened; because I don't have much to complain about.

[theboxesinmyhead-blog]

Me buckling under the pressure.(So much for first impressions!)

I have lived a full day and I can't think of anything to write about. It's not like I didn't do anything there is a lot I have done today, but I can't seem to organize it all in my head.

I hate it when I feel like this because all I want to do is gloat. I end up trying to make my writing seem smart to make up for where I am lacking. Is this a reflection on my intelligence?

The only solution to get past this is to plow through this emotion. Blast through this inner wall until I can find my words.

SO AFTER 4 HOURS... I will try again tomorrow.