Old Mexico

I lost my soul in old mexico.

Most people give in to sensations, temptations of the flesh, and the purity of that white alcohol they pedal down there, but not me. No, I chose to deteriorate from the a punch drunk love of life.

Darkness tried to liken itself to me. Pour inside my body when I was sleeping and take control over my emotions, but I fought if off with the healing power of self gratification.

Not even the sounds of mariachis and screams from the Mexican hookers in their cheap hotel rooms could soften my spirit.

I'll admit, I was tempted to stray from the broken path, but I followed it all the way down to its depths.

A phoenix, doused with water.

A butterfly, transformed into a moth.

I fell hard in old mexico, and promised never to leave.

To love.

To run free.

Winding Backwards

Reckless abandonment, leads to hopeless dreaming, but what are we without our dreams?

The cold, stale, hatred from life is constantly breathing down our necks.

Instead of ignoring it, we prod and provoke the hornets nest.


I do so declare, that any living being, should do so in deed.

Grab each moment as if it were your last.

A very contrary saying, but significant throughout the centuries.


Time grows smaller and smaller.

Youth looks forward to growing up, while the old wither and perspire.


The optimism, is that there is more for us out there, beyond the stars.

The realist, understands that this might be it.


My biggest fear, will be my biggest regret; to enjoy the little things.


I reject self reflection for my past sins, but instead look forward to creating new ones.

Without them, time stops.


The clock stops ticking.