Songs That Shape My Identity

Whether it is people, music, art, movies, or books, there are certain things that we obsess over on any given day. The music that I listen to helps shape my identity and provides an outlet to express my feelings and reveal my state of mind. These songs are a window to my soul and they give you a glimpse of who I am. I will try to post these daily. Enjoy.

Freedom

People yearned for freedom when they were working the fields and marching in the streets.
Eager to go to bed each night, their dreams the only place they could imagine such a feeling,
They suffered and fought for the rights of people they would never meet.
I am thankful for my freedom, made from their blood, sweat, and tears.
My most precious possession, a basic civil right, an heirloom I will protect and that future generations will inherit.

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Honey

From the moment I walked up to say hello, your eyes lured me to your side.

Your irises were golden brown, the color of the honey I love to add to my chamomile tea on a cold winter night.

As I leaned closer, I could smell the fragrance of your skin and I breathed in your scent before whispering my name into your ear.

When our lips touched, it was as magical as the process of converting nectar to succulent syrup.

The taste of your kiss sweetened my bitter life, leaving behind an insatiable desire for more.

Awakening

The sun has risen and my cocaine dreams are over.

Nightlife has finally taken its toll on me; I was not meant to be nocturnal.

Waking up, frightened in a room I do not recognize, I look around for you, only to find a stranger laying beside me.

Heartache strikes and I realize the nightmares that haunted me were real. My eyes are filled with tears and my mouth is dry. I drink the drops of guilt and sadness that fall down my face.

Consumed by shame, I sit and mourn the loss of a friend and prepare myself for the changes to come. The night has passed but it has left behind a veil of darkness around us. I only hope for you to see me in the same light again.

The Void

Eternity

The Void

You can see it in the horizon, where the sea and the sky merge to become eternity.

We stretch our hands,¬†hoping to grasp it,¬†but it’s intangible.

We will fade like a sunset, and our spirits will disappear into the nothingness.

Our restless souls know this and¬†cannot wait to escape our bodies;¬†they are curious to know what’s there.

In our minds we imagine it, in our sleep we dream of it, and at our deaths we are finally transported to this place we have been dying to discover.

No mortal knows what awaits us there,¬†but we live our lives¬†aching to know¬†what’s at the end.

 

 

Yeux

 

image_514_resizedYves Klein, “Untitled Fire-Color Painting” c. 1962

Yves Klein blue eyes curiously gaze at me from across the room.
I perceive innocence and naiveté: inexperienced youth.
I want you but I am afraid to submerge in the deep unknown that lies beneath those azure pools of your soul. There is a void within you.
Your eyes yearn for affection,¬†but is it me that you’re looking for?
 
Your scarlet lips are a symptom of a fever that rises as I approach you.
I exhale, and every breath I take fans the flame of desire that burns inside you.
How I would love to quench the spark you have ignited in me, but it is too late.
The brief second that we kissed has set my body ablaze. 

Scars

Each line is now the actual experience with its own innate history. It does not illustrate‚ÄĒit is the sensation of its own realization.
‚ÄĒCy Twombly

Screen Shot 2016-04-26 at 5.52.08 PMCy Twombly, Untitled (Bacchus) 2008

I am sometimes embarrassed by the scars on my body, but similar to the lines that Twombly painted, they have an innate history that is not evident to the viewer. The scars are the remnants of the experience, each with a singular story that has shaped who I am today.

What I did to forget about you:

What I did to forget about you:

I cut my hair; I dyed it too.
I changed my address. 
I changed my look.
I forgot to eat. 
I ate too much. 
I stayed home. 
I went out.
I reunited with old friends and made new ones along the way.
I avoided the places we used to go.
I became a regular at certain stores.
 
For the first week, I broke down every night.
I sweat from and inexplicable fever in my sleep. 
I craved you when I was with someone new.
I got drunk.
I got very drunk.
I tried to drown my sorrows but those bastards learned how to swim.
I washed my skin and I scrubbed hard.
I tried to get rid of the smell of your body on mine until my skin turned red and hot and tender to the touch.
I cried. I wept. I still do.
 
I drank some more and my tears were my chasers. 
I kissed strangers, lots of them, but all I could taste was you. 
I ran away, to the gym, back home, and back to my apartment.
I ran from my problems but they always beat me home.
I tried to replace the emotional pain with a physical one.
Muscle soreness, self inflicted to momentarily forget, yet it still reminded me of you: of the time you hit me, and the time I hit you.
I slept. I went days without sleeping. I was drinking my pain away. Staying up late with champagne supernovas to celebrate one day without thinking about you.
Clouds of white, snow and smoke enshrouded me and I felt protected. But they dissipated and I saw you out, with someone else, and I had to start again and forget the progress I had made.
I cried alone and I cried with friends.
I promised myself: “This time around I will forget…about you, about us, about the person I was.”
I danced until my body ached, so that I could get home and sleep, too exhausted to think of anything before I went to bed.
I met someone, I let them go. I loved you, but I loved myself more.
 
I lost you, but I found myself. I learned to love myself.
I cut my hair. I changed address. 
I danced and I drank but this time to celebrate.
I cried some more, but not for you this time around.
I cried for life, for youth, and for joy.
I cried for the happiness I missed out on while waiting for you, to come home, to come back into my life.
I found joy and I found life.
Most importantly, I found myself when I forgot about you.

Brothers

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My brother is almost eighteen, but whenever we get together I still feel like I’m ten years old, and he’s four, and we’re playing the Legend of Zelda in his room at 7am on a Saturday morning. I’m so grateful to have spent some time with my best friend and to have witnessed the splendor of New York City with him.