Skies

Balboa Park

An afternoon in Los Planes de Renderos 

San Blas Beach

Santa Ana

I liked those clouds

A milpa -corn field- in Santa Ana

Santa Ana

San Diego -La Libertad Port

The Wolf and the Moon

There was a time when the moon could walk on earth in the shape of a beautiful woman. But she could only be among human with a condition: as a woman, no man shall touch her . If that were to happen, both -the moon and the men- will die. She kept the condition as a bow, as a promise.

Once, the moon was walking around when she heard the most beatifull song her ear had ever heard. The song came from a singing at the sky, aimless. He was singing like she was not there. The moon knew she could not get closer. Every day the moon came and heard the same song and see the same man. Once, dragged deep into the man´s song, the moon got spotted by him. She ran away.

Aware of his new friend, the man sang louder just to be heard. Every day, both the man and the moon enjoyed each other without even looking their faces, without even talking.  The man singing and the moon’s presence was all they could have.

On a  rainy day, as always, the moon waited for the man, hidden in the same spot, but he never came. The moon worried. She realized his mortal heart was not like hers. She had fallen in love. The next day,  she waited, but the man never came.

The moon had nothing of her beloved man but the the memory of his song. She made up her mind and decided to travel looking for the one that owned her heart. She traveled singing the  song at the plaza of every town she went in, hoping the man would hear it. Every time: singing, hoping, praying to be heard by the man she loved. Her faith was running out, her hope was perishing. The man would not appear anymore, she had to give up.

In her way back, the moon decided to visit the place where she found love. “I was waiting for you " said the man sat on the same place they met "this time I want to hear you" continued the man. Like there was no tomorrow, the moon sang. Singing just for him. Then they talked like old friends until the sunrise ... There was something wrong, love blinded the moon and for that at sunrise the moon and the men would die. 

What could be done? That was a forbidden love. The moon refused to leave the man. Filled with anger, she escaped with the man. The sun was given the order to track them down. They avoided the sun as far as they could, but one day the sun caught the moon. At that very same moment, the moon and the man made a promise: the man should sing every night to his beloved moon and the moon will dance at his song. The moon sacrificed her immortal body to turn the man into a Wolf. Her soul escaped to the sky.

Until this day, the sun keeps chasing the moon and every night the man sings at his beloved moon while she dances changing her shape. The sun will never catch the moon. The love of the moon and the man will never perish.

Written by: J.U (Pandaboy)

*****

A/N: It seems that lately I´ve been publishing old, finished stuff, this one came to my mind.

I can be very -more so than usually- when I´m bored and five or maybe six years ago when this story was written, I use to bug whoever I was chatting with to "tell me an interesting story" this one was given to me one of those times by some guy... I liked it. I had to stalk a friend´s FB page to find his name, he was never really my friend but I guess we could´ve been, he told good stories. Five or six years ago I asked him if I could publish this story here, he said I could so I´m finally doing it. I wonder if I should let him know... though I´m leaning for not doing so since when we last spoke we ended in less than friendly terms... Also I just wrote the first letter of his name and last name since I´m not sure if he would´ve wanted his name all over the internet but I don´t mind writing the nickname I used for him hahaha

From My Senses

"Thank you for being you"

Your words were hot knife going through butter. I liked those words. I didn’t like your shoes. I loved the color of the sky layered over your pearl-like skin. You sat somewhat apart and then looked for excuses to squeeze yourself in the little space left at my right. You apologized for your smell; you had walked to school under the sun. I just shook my head “no”, yours is the best one I´ve ever smelled.

It was hot yet I was shivering by being next to you. I didn’t feel close enough even if we were only a couple centimeters away. I talked and talked to the rest of ears. I turned to see you and my mind went blank. I could only see your rosy, blushed cheeks. I wonder if blood rushed to mine as I watched you.

Why the sound of our voice becomes a whisper when talking to the other? Being next to me had some effect in you? You were so unfocused. Where were you? I asked. What were you looking at? I teased you this time.

Ah, love, I´ve missed you. I wonder if I will ever stop loving you. Being with you is wishing time to stop. Being with you is coming out of my body and levitating towards you. Being next to you is forgetting how to think. Being with you is wishing to see with my skin and touch with my ears.

So little, we say so little and I feel so much. I only stole glances of you right next to me, but I saw everything on you. I saw that you changed your glasses. I saw you had a green rubber band on your hair. I saw you changed your converse shoes for other type of sneakers. I saw that your hair is longer and I saw that your hands are as lovely as they´ve always been. Your nails are shorter than they use to be. I heard each one of your words. I heard you being a little embarrassed. I noticed you changed your perfume. I felt you are as warm as ever. I noticed you were unfocused, almost babbling, almost mumbling, and almost stuttering.

You said goodbye more than once but didn´t move to go. I was very aware of our shapes after saying and hugging goodbye for the third time. We were hugging so tightly, like a magnet. Electricity and who knows what other nature powers working their magic. You didn´t leave until I turned my back to say hi to someone else. You were gone when I turned back. I missed you since the first goodbye. We´ve missed each other, I concluded.

Later, I spent time re-living the afternoon. I noticed I had ignored some people. I saw something in her eyes. I saw her looking at us. Does she feel deep inside something for you? For a fraction of a second I could see something in her eyes. It felt tense for a second. I know you see her. You´ve talked a lot about her, but does she see you?

She was included in your trip. You told me about it. I saw the pictures. You said you wanted me in your trip but knew you were going to be glued to me. You said you preferred to keep that idea on your mind. It´s like you can´t avert your attention from me if I´m around, that´s what your words told me. I would´ve loved to have you glued to me.

I don´t know if I´m happy. I am happy but somewhere inside it hurts that so many emotions are going through me, yet they are nothing, they’ll never fully reach you. Thank you for thanking me for being me. You always manage to be the one with the nicer compliments in such economy of words.

****

-Original tittle: Visit

-Written on May 4^th 2012

-Another one found under the "Seven Days" label. I wish I could´ve done it better... A more diluted version of what it is hahaha 

Our Time

You made me addict to you,

And everything you wanted and love…

Every time we say good bye a little bit of me dies

To be born again when I hear your voice calling my name…

It´s the middle of the night

I whisper for you,

You don´t listen to me anymore…

You hide from me

As I play at trying to erase you from my mind

The memory of you lingers in my chest…

Our time´s intertwined with my beating heart

It´ll forever belong there…

****

I hope this one feels consistent. The first four lines were written on August 22nd 2012, almost an exact year from today. The last part, except the last line, was written on January 15th 2013. The last line was written today and though I did edit the whole thing, it´s the same ideas that it had when it was originally written. 

These two little angsty pieces were in my drafts, under the "Seven Days" label, a more poetic type of thing than what I´ve done there mostly. Four months ago I wouldn´t have thought in publishing a few of the last things I´ve published  that were under that label, but somehow I always knew I´d end up doing it. I´m going to delete the original drafts and just leave this one here. I think I´ll continue to publish a few more things that are there.

Quiet

You´re quiet when you´re hurting
Mute shouts your eyes produce
As your fingers cry away...
...Cry away another good bye

     -march 6 2013

Mirror

Shine like night,

An oxymoron, 

What´s better than that?

What you got it´s all you need...

Go to the mirror and see it

There´s you and your shy smile

Down-casted eyes that hide a kind heart

Go on and see past your eyes

See yourself in me if you prefer

What do you see?

I see a mellow light,

Kind words, a few unintended jokes

Just be, does it get better than that?

No need to fit in the mold

I´ve seen

I never said I´d change

A mirror that talks from the other side

I want to talk to the reflex there

To tell what I see

Because I never noticed a few things

Maybe the image behind haven´t either

Ghost

A mere shadow
Nothing at all
Running away from light
Never there
A mirage
...

Letter

Alexander:

I hope everything is well. I hope you've found this letter.

When I first woke up – when I was born, I guess – I was living your life. I had all your friends and your family, and Trevor. I'm afraid to say I've lost most of those friends, but I haven't lost the others. I think I've done well with Trevor. I hope you can keep him. He's a treasure.

I'll miss him a lot. I wonder if I'll be dead when I'm gone from your body… it could be. I'll miss Trevor the most. Does he miss me? Maybe you can't answer, but I had to ask.

So, anyway, at first I didn't know how lucky I was. I thought it was perfectly normal to be born into someone else's life. When I really grasped how strange my life had been, it changed me. Before then, I didn't really care who you were. Like… the previous tenant in a house. It doesn't really matter who they were. Once I understood though, I couldn't just sit still. It fascinated me, that someone could just go away like that, and be replaced.

So I started to think a lot about you, about who you were, about what you were like. I asked your parents a lot of questions! Talk to them about it, they'll laugh. It kind of obsessed me – it still does.

Lately I've been getting these strange spots in my vision, flashes of things, temporary feelings in parts of my body. I can't be sure, but I think this means you're coming back. That I'm going away, and you're coming back. It terrified me. It still terrifies me.

I mean, think. Before that, I had no way of knowing if I was going to grow old and see your parents (can I call them ours?) die peacefully, maybe make a family with Trevor, or someone like him (a boy has a right to shop around.) I thought maybe this is permanent. Well, I don't think so now. It's been getting more frequent, more powerful, these flashes and pins and needles and everything.

I'm dying, then. It's not a painful way to go. It disturbs me, but I can live with it for now. Because… because this is what I was meant for. To take your place for a while. To breathe your breath for a while. To hold your hands for you – I was meant for it all.

I think I love you. I don't know you, but I know about you. I know you were good enough for Mom and Dad (it's what I call them, sorry if it's weird for you); good enough for Trevor. I just want you to be happy and okay.

So that's it. Be safe. Say hi to everyone for me…

Sincerely,

Chaplain

This was a letter I found in one of my readings, I thought it was very interesting, moving. It probably doesn´t make much sense on its own but I felt like I had to have it in a way, ofc, all the credit goes to the writer of the story which is why I´m also posting the link below. I think the story was very interesting and the idea behind it was new, perhaps it´s been done but I feel that this one is done in a simple, nice way.

Story: I was meant to hold you