pixelated.me

They all sat around the table exchanging transient glances.
just to check that they were all still there. conversation seemed beyond their collective. no one seemed much concerned with it. they all flipped through the pages of 4 year old National Geographic magazines politely provided by the impolite staff at the hip looking cafe. If someone were to walk by...in fact for arguments sake, lets say two separate somebody's were to walk by separated only by a 12 second interval. They would’ve each have walked away with vastly different stories. Where as one would have spied three friends comfortable enough to wear the role of quiet strangers, the second somebody would, if he was the sort to notice details, if he was, say, the sort to notice when his gf had trimmed her hair by only the slightest of trims, if he was that sort of somebody, then he might see, nestled, burrowed neatly in the folds of carefully worn rejection, the unmistakable whimper of unrequited love, on the face of one of the three “friends” sitting at the table in this hip looking café.

I left mexico feb 7th 2007. Since then i have been in Belfast, NI, Madrid, Spain, Alcala, Spain (in an area known as Andalucia) and will soon board a train for Barcelona.
In all this time i have tried to remain me whilst allowing for the newness of my surroundings to affect me.
It has been interesting but unsettling. Hence my title. I expected to find time to write, be creative and so far it has been everything i didn’t expect. I have rediscovered photography but have found little reason to work on my novel/script. Even when you try not to have expectations you inevitably have them. Something about this “lost” feeling has left me in the arms of some old habits. Meditating on past relationships. I have an odd fascination with the “anniversaries” of things. Even “not so pleasant” things. from the end of things or the beginnings of things that ended to the really trivial at times. for example: realizing that it’d been a year since....i saw U2 play in mexico which i actually realized because i missed a friends birthday that fell on near date. Which i suppose is ironic. But tonight i found myself thinking of feb 28th. The day that i was meant to leave madrid for mexico ( a departure that has now been delayed a bit) feb 28th is also the day i left mexico for nyc in 2006 and became acquainted with an american girl with piercing eyes and one hell of a smile who would tear me to shreds and from which i would learn to rebuild myself. She wrote two days ago to say hi. It seems...misplaced. like the hi between to old friends whom have lost touch. That is not the case with us. I can’t help but wonder what it is that she wants from me. It should be irrelevant. But in this slightly displaced state sitting in a living room in the old world i find that i do care. It is in part vanity but also curiosity..but none the less what a year it has been. I really do loath that even now these...women from my past can reach forth into my today and stir things up a bit. Frankly it doesn’t seem fair and i’d like to lodge a complaint with the proper ministry office.

so what is love?
energy certainly.
but is it created in the instant that two people fall in love?
Is it, perhaps, just the uncovering of something that was always there?
the romantic in me would like to believe that.
or perhaps more pragmatically if energy changes form then is it merely the love we had for someone or something else changing form?
I can’t say for sure but someone recently pondered the question of “where does the love go?”
and to her i would say nowhere.
the love doesn't go anywhere. it's all just choices people make, one after the other until they turn into the narrative of a life. the love just gets cast to the back of the closet like and old pair of boots you once loved but that you can't wear anymore because they make your feet hurt. They are old and brown and have lost their shape.

a bloke named...._______
It's like watching a monkey who's figured out that picking his nose will make the tourist at the zoo laugh.
It's always the same joke...the same hahaha made up lyrics...the same joke of fucking up the songs...the same slightly lost puppy look aimed towards the girl he fancies at the parties...
In the end i feel like punching him in his grin just to shut him up.