The Perks of Being a Cuban.

Perdona nuestras ofensas,
como también nosotros perdonamos
No nos dejes en la tentación
Tentación
Tentación

In cello et in terra fiat voluntas tua
Gloria Spiritui Sancto

¿Que idioma hablas tú?
Si acaso puedas hablar
¿Eres un héroe?
Quien rescata a todos los demás

Ahora dime porque
Se fajan el perro y el gato
Y también si vas a la mezquita
O a la sinagoga

Y si nuestro destino esta a su merced
Y si el guión lo escribiste tu, donde esta el héroe

Como le va
Con el poder que tienes ya
Eres feliz
O sueles llorar
Te has equivocado
Como todos hemos
Si me perdonas
Yo te perdonare

Dime si eres capaz
De sentir dolor
De pasar con hambre
O si sientes siempre bien.

Mire como mueren la gente
O matan, por tu nombre
Eso te trae orgullo,
O te avergüenza?

Y si nuestro destino esta a su merced
Y si el guión lo escribiste tu, donde esta el héroe

Como le va
Con el poder que tienes ya
Eres feliz
O sueles llorar
Te has equivocado
Como todos hemos ya
Si me perdonas
Yo te perdonare

The roommate thinks we're friends. He speaks to me all the time, he jokes with me. He puts things in my garbage can. Not garbagey things, gross things. Things with ketchup. He put a bottle of ketchup in my fridge. I'm annoyed. Every time I ask him to clean, he puts it off, he ignores. IM GOING INSANE

There was a time
My words were few
All of my thoughts
Focused on the wrong thing

And so there was a burden
Weighed me down each day
So there was so much
I forced myself to say

I don’t think for my own good
I have learned from my mistakes
I could be a better man
If I found a way to let go

In the silence of my soul
The silence of my new home
I couldn’t turn it off
All that I’ve been thinking of
So now I think I’ve learned
From the bridges I have burned
It’s high time
I go back from where I came

Because there was a burden
Tortured me each day
There is still so much
No one’s ever heard me say

I don’t think for my own good
I have learned from my mistakes
I could be a better man
If I found a way to let go

Is every February this stagnant? I just feel ... stuck. I think I'm going to do a lot tomorrow. Apply places, other than Fordham. I need to know that there is an end to this place. It's not even bad anymore, it's just not where I want to be for the next however-many years.

I need a break. I don't even do that much work. I wrote a 10 page play in 2 days. It felt so awesome to worry about writing omething again. I like to feel useful and writing does that to me. I feel like the things I say may eventually be of use, either just to me or to maybe someone. It feels so good to get a good response to the past few things I've written. And now I have a larger audience. It's playwriting, so it's meant to be spoken aloud . So when the readers are reading them and can't get through it because they think it's so funny, I feel useful. I made the creepy girl who cuts herself hyperventilate. I assume she's not used to laughter, I felt accomplished. I think my playwriting is genuinely improving.

I do miss narration though. I miss my descriptions of rooms and skies and eyes. I really miss writing stories. I haven't been inspired, forced, or motivated. I have a story that I started, it's so choppy, but it started out well. I will finish it eventually.

I'm just so tired. I haven't slept enough today, and I'm starting to wind down. I'm sundowning. Last time i blogged before bed, it helped me. I'm awake but my body isn't. it's screaming to get into bed. And i still don't want to. But it's for the best. I think I'll sleep now.

I cannot sleep. I havent been able to for exactly one week. I have stayed up for long periods of time, then slept for short periods. 20 awake 4 asleep or so. This is bad. I have no idea why I cant sleep. For the first time at stockton everythings go well. I enjoy all of my classes, my teachers, i have lunch and dinner buddies and the occasional breakfast buddy. I'm making peace with the fact that I'm here for a lil while. And I feel okay about the rest of the year. I have no concern on my mind. Nothings bothering me psycologically. And yet, I cannot turn my brain off. I toss and turn and think. Thoughts range from day dreams to whats ahead tomorrow to annoying songs that remain stuck. Yet, I'm high strung. And i have absolutely no reason why. Maybe it's my roommate? Maybe its his fan, maybe its his mess. I've thought about the fan and the mess while tossing. I've looked over at him and scowled, his existence bothers haha. I need help, I think, about the sleep. I read that writing down the reasons why you may be sleepless helps. I wish I knew the reason

NO ITS NOT CLEAN CLEAN CLEAN! im going insane. im gonnaq kill him. im gonna throw all this shit away. gross piles of cheap clothing get in my way every day. i kick things, then wash my feet. there are empty sunny delight bottles everywhere in a room with THREE garbage cans. he has a pyramid of rootbeer cans. don't people form can pyramids when they drink actual beer? as a sign to impress others, and to show how much they drank. he has no friends, and as I am the only one who has seen this pyramid, i am not impressed. His books are arranged in a pile near his printer. they topple over once a week. He owns 1 long sleeve t shirt. it's white. its layered under ever short sleeve tee he owns. He has a garbage bag thats full, thats sitting by his bed. Im going to die

I'm not that smart. I act like I am. But I'm not. I'm not that nice. I look like I mighgt be when you meet me, but that doesn't last too long. I'm opinionated, yet introverted. I'm tragically optimistic, I dream big, think big, probably because I'm so short.
I'm stubborn. I make plenty of mistakes. I'm hard to live with, because I'm so particular. I'm impossible with roommates, the 2 I've had. I cannot envision myself living peacefully with anyone who isnt exactly like me. I am incapable of apology, and the few times I've actualy done it, I've regretted it. I get stung, but don't show it. I'm private, I don't show emotion tto other people. They think I'm dead insde, but I'm very much alive.
I'm sarcastic, which is not a good thing. I'm clever, which is a good thing to some. I'm secretly clingy. As much as i hate spending too much time with people, as much as I push people aside and make them feel unimportant, I miss them like crazy when they're gone, or if they ever decide to be. Friends I have, have had or have lost, still man the world to me. And I always wonder whether something went wrong, or whether we've grown apart with age.
I write not because I think I'm good. I write because it's my only release. It's my way of proving my worth, or proving that I do have feelings.

i miss blogging about nothing. lately i've just always blogged when i had a point to make. i read my old posts and they were meaningless, just things that amused or bothered. my day. here i go..

its mother boinking cold. like trapped in a penguin cold. im dying as much as i enjoy the cold. its so cold im getting skin blotches, which happens every year. i shiver when i'm outside. this is so bad. but at least my cold clothes are sexy. i hate the summer because of my scrawny arms. the winter covers them, i look nice in sweaters. im wearing my fav sweater right now. tomorrow im gonna waer my heavy brown hooded cardigan. its very itchy so i need long sleeves under it but it looks really nice and its comfy.