The Chicano Diaries

Journal writing

Category: Writing

Write what you wanna write about

I haven’t painted in months, art doesn’t talk to me anymore, as much as I wanna escape in the process of it. If I were to leave id be splitting myself in half, but I would awaken again, in another lovers eye. But getting there wont be so easy, I would have leave her the girl who is right next to me, its going to be so difficult to do this but she is not for me

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Where to go from here?

Lust is the only devil for me. I see unwrinkled skin, it attracts and makes me stare, like a girl wearing shorts and her thighs bulging out from the folded fabric, because her shorts are on way too tight and her appeal is high. I try to fast forward to see where the strong countour lines will be on her beautiful face, then the wrinkles will come like the amount of years on tree bark.

Oh youth farewell, and only when the moment is to be percieved glorious, it is simply a wrinkle in time, something you cannot hold tangible for very long. Lust hangs like an odor that wont go away because as much as you try to think about how you can have her just for a moment, that simple thought is too strong to think about.

She Seemed Unconquered

She was like a summer dream. The day was a hazy shine. She had nice legs, elegant curvy lips and shining glowing hair.

A gaze to her eyes and you would see pixels of clear skies.

And her hands. I grabbed her hands, she had wrists tattoos, she was a beauty of a canvas.

I caressed her hands like caressing the sheet of a pedal flower

and when she is gone. . . .it rains again.

Latex Everything

Sometimes I try not to give myself away too much. This time it was just so hard. The way the flourescent light from the ceiling illuminated her massive curves and I say massive curves because she had garments that were mostly strechy latex material, so you can imagine just how ripe and supple she was. Its like I had just got done eating jalapenos, I just kept trying to breath and keep myself still from all the gazing that I couldnt help. It was as though she just wore one layer of paint over her body. How that dark black tone silk shined and outlined her figure, and let me tell you she rocked that smile that she seemed so confident wearing a skimpy outfit. And her brown complexion, acne that had been marred just slightly noticeable on her cheeks, it was totally acceptable for a luster like myself.

I liked the way she hoped to and fro, I could see her breasts move so elegantly and when she turned around to write something on the board I just peered straight into her legs, she was plum so she had legs and an ass that would have me going crazy for had I been anywhere between her and a wall. She seemed like a lot of things but I cant say no more, one thing is certain I will be looking for a study buddy soon.

Blossom like a flower

“Do you want to see it?”She was talking about her tattoo she just got finished some days earlier. She closed the office door and turned around. She began to lift up her shirt. It was a flower with a vine, it was adorned with color. It went from her lower back up to her shoulders. I would be a little more descriptive about the tattoo but I was seldom paying attention to the permanent ink she had showed me. No friends I was envying her smooth back she was showing me, slowly caressing her with the tip of my fingers, gradually outlining her tattoo just outside of the markings, not touching any exposed areas. My fingers were traveling slowly, asking questions I wasn’t thinking about at all, I had just wanted to kill time. My fingers touched her bra accidentally so I had stopped there. I think she knew I liked her anyway because as I was leaving, my words would fumble and I kept peering down at the grass like if I lost something. Sometimes I wouldn’t even finish my sentences. I saw her smile, it kept growing as I kept walking to my car I think I made it obvious but she was nice about it at least. She still talks to me and lets me know that she has my number saved, and that I would call her, someday. But that “someday” seems so very bleak.

The girl at the bus stop

“I wanna go on a hunt” I told myself. It was a nice autumn day in the southwest. Soft cold winds would caress your skin against the burning sun. The wide open agriculture fields feel a serene reverie. I can see myself pedaling down the bus stop. There was a crowd waiting. Do you know where this is going? Im sure you do fellow reader.

She stood there listening to her headphones, she didn’t see me check her out, so I had time. I kept getting closer and closer to her on my bike. When she had finally noticed me, I could remember seeing her really cute smile she gave me. And the way she made her eyes, they had peered at me in a way where she was asking for more, she was inviting me to talk to her. When I had turned around to go back to talk to her, I can remember seeing all the people knowing exactly what im about to go do. I played with suavity. We didnt stop talking until her foot was inside the bus. She was a cute latina. I can say many things. Lets say this, if I had her in my room, I would want to have her standing half naked in front me with her back turned towards me. The sun would beam down on her from the hazy window screen, giving her shadows in the right places. She would have those two cute dimples just right above her bosoms. The suns ray would have you gazing in awe. I would have liked to caress her all day, in her ripeness. The next time I see her at the bus stop I’ll be sure to give her a ride.

A spicy kiss

I had been over my X and she followed me around thinking she can catch my attention. I had done the same to her one time, and she ignored me, so I wasn’t going to waste my time anymore. I just got done playing our set when she comes up to me and tells me “Im leaving” I go “Koo, peace” and walk away from her. So she begins some moderate drama but I was no abandoned puppy for her. I could have easily just taken her by the hand, took her somewhere isolated, toss her against the wall and make out with her passionately, but I was enjoying myself and I seldom payed attention to her that night.

Sometime during the week at school she found out I made out with a girl who had been sitting with us along a bench, but I didnt make out with her until she left. May I describe her to you? She was short and plum (what a sucker I am) and she had yellow peroxide hair (a normal fashion trend in the punk scene back then) and she wore a short black skirt and her shirt must have been torn apart, everything DIY. I let her sit on my lap and I would cross my fingers against her nice thick legs. She was very cute in her own way, she had colored eyes too. When she kissed me, it left my mouth feeling spicy for some reason. I had no clue why that happened but I didnt let that stop me from continuing from kissing her. I didnt feel bad about what happened I was just moving on, still at times I like the feeling to think I can do as I wish with any girl who would let me grab her hand and take her under my dictatorship. Dont you?

A tangle of seaweeds.

I wonder why she didn’t have sex me. We were both naked in bed, I remember seeing her just laying there, I would caress her from head to tough, suck, grab- the works; trying to marinate the damn thing. We had barely met each other and we had this spark of interest we shared like wild fire. I remember when we went to the bathroom to keep messing around, she was looking at herself through the looking glass and she could see me grabbing her hair full of seaweed, she had dreadlocks that were pretty. Then we went to the shower, nothing happened just more messing around.

The thing is when we first met, I had gotten a one night stand from her, well technically I didnt get laid though. We trespassed into a house that was barely being built and we could feel the wood shavings on our feet and saw the exposed walls where they still needed plastering. We climbed the stairs and we used my leather jacket as a blanket to lay down, but most of the time we were standing up, I did a lot of humping (thats all I did actually).

I didnt talk to her for two weeks after that because I was scared. I was scared of something that happened that night and I dont want to be too specific but it left me having to pay a doctors visit and I seriously dodged a bullet from playing Russian roulette that night. We had gotten in contact later she thought I had thought of her as just another number, here goes another one not settling for less. Anyway I told her what happened and she was filled with remorse, I really liked her, we had a lot of things in common, I later realized she had been a slut but I didnt judge her character for that when I met her and when we didnt mind being together, I trusted her.

This was a part of my life that was bleak and still feeling frustrated over a lot of things. She taught me a lot though, she taught me to be a free spirit and not to be afraid to be yourself, I really liked her. I never told her though that when she was naked in bed, I had left the condoms right under her bed. For one reason or another I cant tell you why I didnt mention that to her, I had always been very “off” with these sort of things, I guess. I took her a she came, like a wave along the coast with her seaweed hair, I know better now to be fully prepared.

Debut poem

Men seek opportunities

Women seek hope

Men thinks

The Women meditates

Men guard like Dogs

Women protect like Angels

You have nightmares too

I woke up like Leanardo’s Inception scene, it had been a terrible nightmare indeed. Conscious in my dream but sleepwalking in my waking life. You too throw yourself that lukewarm water in your face, just like clockwork from day to day, to get on the daily grind, until you see yourself in the mirror and then you hear a crack. It wasnt the mirror thats broken its your mentality about to unbalance itself into beautiful chaos you have never expressed before, the water seems to be climbing out of the cup and you cant take it anymore. You realize you are a small nut supporting a large machine that needs feeding and it takes a toll on you, and it molds you until you become so old like rust. You are no longer needed, your just left to rot or simply thrown away like a dirty rug. For some reason you decide to scream like a dying animal, and this is healthy for you, its called catharsis. I have done it once before on my way to work, how I felt it would never end, the vicious cycle of work and more work. I rolled down the window to feel the cool autumn breeze caress me, mother earth was there for me. The tears came and I felt better. I decreed to the world that it was plastic and I just a product. I went up to the teller, desperate for human interaction, but everything was systematic, no smile, no small conversation. When my day was over I seldom remember what I dreamed about that night but when I woke up again I reached into my pocket and tried to feel my little Jesus cross, it truly was a nightmare, my dreams fool me into thinking that my day is setup for work, so I tell myself this everyday until I die. Never think that you are alive, that would a good remedy.