tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-315381132024-03-08T20:43:40.060-05:00This Is The End Of The Hit ParadeThis.Is.The.End.El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.comBlogger106125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-14037336615181463312010-08-06T23:11:00.002-05:002010-08-06T23:34:28.676-05:00"If you go back for just a second maybe you can feel a little piece of it again.""If I told you I was thinking of moving would you save a place for me..."I don't know why I do it. I suppose it's a sickness. At this point its the only thing that makes me feel a glimmer of what I think I want to feel all the time.Not heartbroken. No. Not anymore.It's a little what love feels like with more sentimentality."This is worse than I expected..."I'm not lost. Not any more. It's worse El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-88959045159361802542010-07-05T04:41:00.002-05:002010-07-05T04:53:00.550-05:00"Four."You stand and look at the work piled on your desk and know that at the end of the day the pile would not only not likely be any smaller, but twice as big. But, the smirk on your face also tells another story, one that said in just twelve short hours none of this would be any of your responsibility anymore. Last day in homicide, and it feels good.As yours fellow detectives walk in for what El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-79875300920396501762010-07-04T11:39:00.003-05:002010-07-04T11:50:58.364-05:00"Three.""Goddamn fucking stupid people."These were the words of one Calvin "Catholic" Spires as he woke up that morning, not really conceiving of what had brought him here at this exact moment in time to this exact hotel room. Named Calvin (Cal to people whom considered him his close friends. He considered he had no friends at all really) after, well his parents never told him that, and nicknamed El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-39499918182369035442010-07-03T20:02:00.002-05:002010-07-04T11:38:48.825-05:00"Two."I walk up the aisle, my hands are sweating, I don't know why...I'm not the sort to get nervous. My heart is racing and as I turn the corner, there he is. My hero. I'm in awe. He is surrounded by an entourage of people, a tall blonde women dressed in a business suit, a couple of tall bulky men with ear pieces. A red head in a short leather skirt stands of to his left next to the magazines. I El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-56654345401328669052010-07-02T10:24:00.002-05:002010-07-04T11:39:35.504-05:00"One."I stand here in the cool crisp morning air contemplating the words in mere minutes that will flow out of my mouth. As I exhale, the fog being created from between my lips forms into the silhouette of the animal crackers I used to eat as a child.Head first. Always head first.A smile begins to form across the fog bearing lips as I remember those good times I had as a child, playing with my El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-75119105816285558622010-06-27T19:38:00.002-05:002010-06-27T19:50:07.169-05:00"Lies and Inconvenient Truths."She said it was the best thing that ever happened to her and she wished it had never ended. This is what she told herself as she cried at night thinking what she had done wrong to makes things go so wrong. A dab of her eyeliner streams down her face now, at this time, thinking and reaching the inevitable oblivion of what she had imagined would be the chaos of her unrequited heart.It wasn't El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-62252028764588773162010-06-16T14:48:00.002-05:002010-06-16T14:51:04.298-05:00"Confusion is sex."Remember when I asked, "What do you say to the most beautiful girl you've ever met?"What if that girl was you?This is not the next great American love story.It's only words.(But the meaning behind the words mean more than the words themselves.)El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-6662517248209060542010-06-12T14:04:00.003-05:002010-06-12T15:22:50.372-05:00"Photograph."About a year ago I bought a camera, in some last chance desperate (and probably pathetic) attempt to find something that would connect me with the person I was last in a relationship with. With no idea of how to take a proper picture, no understanding of how it works, little more than layman's understanding of pointing and shooting, I dived in because I desperately needed to believe there was El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-69455997508041179642010-04-25T19:55:00.002-05:002010-04-25T20:32:28.911-05:00"A Conversation.""Hey.""hey.""Ummm...what are you up to?""What do you mean?""I don't know. I guess it was just one of those attempts to try to feel like I knew what to say. I hate small talk. But it seems that's the only way to get involved in a....you know...conversation.""Yeah. I hate that. Never feeling like I know what to say.""Conversations are so hard to have. All the things I think about saying always say El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-86869114331107893872010-03-24T06:43:00.003-05:002010-04-22T18:45:22.006-05:00"They Don't Take Photos At Funerals."It's like that feeling you get when your hungry but you don't know what you want to eat. Not the pregnant kind of hungry, with ice cream and pickles, but more like one thing could make your day complete if you just knew what it was that you wanted to feel yourself digesting. You pick something up, put something down, nothing seems like it will satiate that hunger you have until you see the thing El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-84595427928434476622010-03-14T19:24:00.002-05:002010-03-14T19:41:54.704-05:00"The enemy of my friend is my...""I just woke up one day and I knew.""Knew what?""What I was never sure of with you."I'm cynical of people who say their significant other is their best friend. I'm cynical because I'm not sure this is possible. There's a raw to truth that I share with my best friends that I've never been able to really share with anyone I've dated. But maybe that's the key...maybe that's what finding someone is El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-66990424584633943512010-03-04T01:03:00.004-05:002010-03-04T06:39:32.113-05:00"Become Where You Are."I'm tired.I'm tired and I can't sleep.I'm tired because I can't sleep.The thoughts in my head keep me up on a nightly basis.I'm tired of trying to be something I'm not even though I'm not sure what that is. I'm tired of being expected to fulfill goals that I don't even hold for myself. I'm tired of trying to be the person other(s) want me to be. I'm tired of thinking that who I am is who you see El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-2720107454530799652010-02-25T21:15:00.001-05:002010-03-04T01:21:39.113-05:00"Liar."We lie everyday.We lie to ourselves. We lie to others. We make ourselves believe the littlest white lie will save the hurt and pain of loved ones. We lie to survive. We all lie.No one really wants the truth. If we did, it wouldn't be so difficult to say it and so easy to lie.I want to tell the truth over and over again.But I never will. Because no one ever does.El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-21101492703527989942010-02-24T08:08:00.003-05:002010-02-24T08:15:58.175-05:00"The Price Of Your Life Is Right And Changes In A Snap."This morning I made a major life decision. Maybe not so major to you, but very much so to me. I decided instead of following my plan for the last three years and getting my Masters in English Lit, I'm going to get my Masters in FIne Arts in Creative Writing. This is huge, because it's about not settling for the middling road I want my life to be and following the dreams of what my future could El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-34734229092873058032010-02-02T00:05:00.003-05:002010-02-02T00:16:30.903-05:00"This Feels Like..."...nothing I ever wanted to feel. Not that I don't want to feel anything because we all want, or have the basic human need to feel something, anything at all.Sometimes it seems like it's just easier not to feel. To withdraw yourself and be able to not feel like the rest of humanity.I suppose at some level this is what being misanthropic is really like.I want to go back and learn more but I'm not El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-63298958322006421902010-01-16T11:11:00.002-05:002010-01-16T11:30:04.144-05:00"Identity."When I was in the 7th grade, Keith Brooks walked up to me and said "You know, according to Cosmopolitan, due to your mixed race...you're socially unacceptable to 75% of America."My reply was simply, "That's ok. You're socially unacceptable to 100% of America."The fact that 3 years later while at an all boys Catholic School, Keith came out of the closet, not only made the Cosmo thing a lot more El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-3058657785692088772010-01-15T20:00:00.002-05:002010-01-16T10:04:06.165-05:00"Fairy Tales."There are no fairy tales.There are no happily ever afters.Not really.Pessimistic, I'm aware. But it seems looking forward and looking back (I know I promised myself no more looking back, but what we can learn about ours and other peoples past decisions are invaluable in determining where we go "from here.")Anyways.What it seems there is however, is good timing and bad timing.Bad timing for some El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-45884242000268564972010-01-08T20:57:00.001-05:002010-01-09T07:27:04.423-05:00"Everyone (Or No One Or Just One)"Hi.How's it going?Is that even how people start these things?I don't know.I just wanted you to know the reason...the reason we haven't talked?It's not because I don't think you're interesting. Or because you haven't got anything to say. Because when I imagine our conversations, they go on until the end of time. I almost can't keep up with what you want to talk about it.At least how I imagine El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-20424162055840167692010-01-05T00:26:00.000-05:002010-01-09T06:51:33.580-05:00"Shakepeare."One of the chief (conceits? ironies? fears?) within the concept of true love soul mates and anything else you want to define people who are fated to be together forever blah blah blah is a notion that the person your with isn't necessarily the "one". This concept of the "one" is romanticized on film and in the page, in song and verse, in every type of media.Why then do we feel more about in the El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-69977034328240654942010-01-03T10:15:00.000-05:002010-01-09T06:54:05.499-05:00"Peter Pan."When I was in the 4th grade, I started a dalliance with being a thespian first sparked by my role of Bob Crachit in our holiday performance of A Christmas Carol. Productions put on by 4th grade auteur and English teacher, Mr. Cassidy. (Actually, this isn't entirely accurate. My first introduction to acting actually came in the form of playing a one Mr. Jack Rabbit in the second grade, a role and El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-12315979373400521032009-12-31T12:10:00.000-05:002010-01-09T07:26:32.721-05:00"The Groove Is In the Heart."I used to have a friend named Jill who would constantly tell me, "You are fired from my life" even though it seemed like we would be friends for life. She had lots of way cooler tattoos than me and idolized Lady Miss Kier. I forget why we stopped talking. Don't think it was anything specific, just lost touch I guess. 'I miss Jill O.El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-69619044806689497382009-12-24T06:50:00.000-05:002010-01-09T06:48:13.832-05:00"Full Circle."This past year started with confusion, stress, a need to finish one thing and striving to keep something else going, even though I was blind to see the writing was on the wall months before it actually did......crash and burn. How I like my life.Originally, (within this disclaimer, pointing out this means like 5 minutes ago) I felt this would be some diatribe on the meaning of life and what it El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-27684962026099951782009-12-01T15:43:00.000-05:002010-01-09T06:46:53.217-05:00"Pro-logue."She tried to mean it would last forever when she said it. It ended up lasting slightly shorter than that.El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-72484242165039955232009-11-24T23:34:00.000-05:002009-11-24T23:35:12.908-05:00"Advi(s)(c)e."You are always a little bit better than you give yourself credit for.Don'twait.Never call.Just talk.Face to face.This is just a beginning.I can't even begin to imagine what any of the above means. It floats through the mind as thoughts with no real meaning other than what it means to me. I sometimes think I don't even know where I am anymore or what I want. Five minutes after I feel comfortable IEl Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31538113.post-10044310922270269712009-09-11T02:09:00.000-05:002009-09-11T02:10:06.963-05:00"Ghosts."I'm.Not.Here.I've never been here.Not really.El Sota Conejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08987788416300150069noreply@blogger.com0