No more trees, my pathetic relatives and THE realization.
Sunday, 12/05/04 - 10:21 pm.

Oh, oh. Do you remember that almost three years ago today I was four hours away from Dallas, where Aerosmith was playing that night? I do. Hi.

I went shopping this afternoon, I bought neat stuff, the christmas presents for my nephew and niece and brothers in Houston (ack, almost a week away from leaving). But how I lost that much money in so little time is beyond my comprehension...actually, it isn't. I know why. It's just an old saying, I guess.

My sister, nephew and I went to a mall that's kind of far away, on the next town, if you will. I used to love the road that took you to that town because you had to drive through forests, and as you entered the highway, you could feel the temperature dropping. It was so great, the weather was so cool.

But guess what? They cut down all the trees, massacred the whole life in those forest, and now there are two HUGE malls and the campus of a dumb university. The highway is like a fucking desert, and the sun burns your eyes and your skin. It's a damn disgrace, and I say with no shame that I'd be the first to place a bomb there and blow up the whole thing.

After dinner tonight, my dad cried while he was telling us about some family bussiness. He and his brother have been rejected by the rest of their family, who stole their part of the inheritance...it's a long, old conflict, that, sickenly enough, is based on religious views by our fanatic aunts and our prepotent uncle.

You can tell them in your letter that WE [us, his children] know about that, and that if we have a casual encounter with them, we'll be polite. But if you, or anybody in this family, is sick, or even dying, and they come, they can be sure they're not welcome, and we'll be kicked out of the house, my sister said to my dad, who'll write a letter to his sisters, telling them he's stepping aside and doesn't want to hear from them again.

You see, this isn't about anything material, even if we were supposed to have pieces of land that once belonged to my granddad (whom I never met, he died when my dad was 14). We grew up without that "abundance", and frankly, we've never needed it, my brother had said.

I guess it's too long and too complicated to explain it here. Even I don't quite get it myself. All I know is that fanatism and greed broke up my dad's family, I don't consider them my family and I couldn't care less about land. I just hate all those uncles and aunts for being so blind and leaving out my dad and my other uncle, just because they didn't agree on some terms. I hate my aunts, and I hope God kicks their ass.

I mean, seriously. It was hard seeing my dad cry. Some things just can't be forgiven, you know? Forgiving would be an unjustice. I will never forgive them for what they've done. They think we care about the land, or about whatever else there's to inherit. Poor stupids. My dad has a family to have a meal with everyday, whereas my aunts pray all day and broke up their marriages and fucked up their families. How religious of them.

*sigh* Moving on...

I talked to Cel today. I think I'll see her on thursday, at the presentation of my book. And then I'll go to her house a few days later. That's half the good news I was supposed to have for Joseph, so I sent him a text message:

I have half your good news. Which is why I'm sending you a text message...consider this as a half phone call.

I wasn't going to say anything until it's confirmed that I'm going to Cel's house, but I needed to get in touch with him, one way or another. Seriously, I miss him. And I hate it, I promised, and he supported me on that, that I wouldn't call him until I have the "good news". It's like a custody conflict, and it sucks.

On the other hand...today I've been thinking a lot about Joe, too. Last night we talked for 4 hours, until 1 am. It was amazing, because I'd never talked to anybody about The Beatles for so long. He knew, he knew everything. All the songs, the videos. We like the same songs, we're scared of the same things (the crescendo in A Day In The Life and Revolution 9)...it's great. And he doesn't sound odd anymore.

- Me: (...) and I'd like to do what Linda [McCartney] did. I love photography, and I'd love to take pictures of people onstage.
- Him: and find your Paul.

That's exactly what I've always wished for. If you want to get romantic, Linda attended The Beatles' performance at the Shea Stadium, and she met Paul years later. Ok, I'm stretching things too much, but I attended The Beatles' tribute last year and a year later, I met Joe, who was the lead guitar. It's just me, being romantic and imaginative, of course.

And above all, LAME.

You know what I've realized? I want to fall asleep next to Joseph. AND I want to wake up next to Joe. On the language plane (this is me getting all Lacanian, that psychotic psychoanalist), that's possible, because it's the same name. But hell, you know what I mean. It's definitely not the same. And we all know you can't have it all.

And with such entangled realization, I bid you goodbye.

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