The Language of Impossible Stories.

My friend and teacher, Lucia has this idea to explain why attractive girls always dated me. It seems so harsh (she is a nice if brutal woman like that hah). I call it the "Couch" theory. In the same way that someone sees a piece of furniture with potential on the side of the road, these girls see me: a project. Something to mold and impart what they want onto it by way of new upholstery or cushions. I always offered up opposition, but she would have none of it. So, women--of various ends on the attractive spectrum--around Miami are overly flirting with me on a regular basis now (not to be shallow or an asshole in quantifying but it seems the simplest way get my point across). I'm not the guy who gets flirted with by multiple women.
A coworker told me that I now have in my possession; pretty boy swag. So, there is that hah. I am guessing Lucia would still offer up this in response:

This is for my attractive girl.
I hope she likes it--all its frailties aside.

Remember to Save Often

When you smiled at me,
I could forget my name:
it was so good.

It was so long ago.
I'd like you to know that
I'm thinking of you.
This is my way to show it.

I remember a note that you left me
when I was elsewhere.
You wrote it in pink
and dotted the "I" with a heart.
And all I could think:
I knew that you were leaving.

I ran out to find you.
You were already fading.
All the nights that we'd been through
weren't something that I looked at replacing.

Is it easier just to say hello and then rebuild from there?
No one likes to hear when you're alone so just forget the fear.
Tell her how much the air was lifted when she was near.

For my birthday
you got me a present that I'd never had
and you named him after me.

You put the life in both of us:
it was the light inside you.
Him and I, we revoked our love.
We were gravely mistaken.

You can only sit without the light for so long.

We were friends back then, you said.
Like the time you fell in my arms
instead of falling off the bed.
I remember you.

I went to the beach today only to get called in to work. Beach day lasted for nearly an hour and a half. And how fitting that the song that reminds me overtly of her comes on my shuffle. Sing it Bird.
Here is to more on the way soon.

Love,
tm

Mais au-dedans, plus de frontières!

Hey, remember when I said I was going to start writing more? Me too. More than one time too. I think it is born of necessity, really. Having days off and no internet/no roommate to be found caters well to this. My dad is, apparently doing better after having his umpteenth wake up call--so that is good.
My allergies are killing me and my face is itchy from too much beard. Been thinking about switching to a straight razor. Seems more economical: fiscally responsible is the phrase thrown around. So, here is to me not slicing open my throat by accident.
No matter where I move it seems someone would prefer me somewhere else. Miami is fine for now. We'll work things out. Now, people just need to come to visit!
This one is about the new view from out of my window (that has a ledge that makes an amazing bookshelf). A simple melody- short and succinct if undeveloped.
The Light, The Wind

So, this girl I used to be friends with is having a birthday soon. I'm writing a song for it. I'll be back soon.
Love,
tm