Move

This is the truck that has taken my friends away. Ok... It did not take them away it just took their stuff. I saw their place, the place they called home, empty. It was the only time that I have been to there place and it was void. It was void of the characters and the character that made it a charm to go to, and be there.

I stared at this truck and it stared back at me. I didn't wanted it to move my part of the family that I have choosen. It is said that we do not pick our family but life is fair because we choose our friends. As the truck stared me down, it reminds me that we ( my friends and I) are in this part of our lifes. WE MOVE... WE make big life choices.... and we pray that they work out.

My friends promise that they will return... but only the Lord knows if I'll be here to greet them.

still sick... only cause I still think of her

because I'm so sick of love songs
so sad and true
so sick of missing you
so sick of my tears

so sick of being blue...
but cant i turn this feeling off...


i know that sometimes.. things break. they do not need a reason. they simply just do.

so sick of wrestling with the question of why.
so sick of my anger...
so sick of my vision... my vision of us in the future.
why cant i just let it go...

I'm tried of being that school boy still doodling in your name. I thought being with someone else even for a night.... would cure me of you. Once the thought of you gave me a smile. Currently the thought of you feeling a sickness that I cant cure...

The problem of listening to the radio late at night and drinking alone... is that you right what I wrote above. Some of the lyrics of a songs got stook in my head. I know that I stole a chuncks of the lyrics.... But I'm sick of all the love songs...

Je ne parle pas anglais

I just got my Chilean sandwich. Which I think that is the best sandwich in Boston. So, I find a table by myself. At the table in front of me I see two men getting up to leave. When I passed them I overheard them. One of the guys was preaching to other guy. He was talking about the glory of God and the good of the church. I thought nothing of it at the moment I passed them.

But then I see the man that was preaching to the other man coming towards me. It was at this moment, I understood what this guys was doing. He asked if he could join me. I saw that I was in trouble. This man,this street preacher, was going to disturb the serenity of my lunch hour.

I say....
Je ne comprend pas... (In my best Haitian accent)
Do you speak English?
Ah... No English. Ah...Berry small english.
Are you Christian?
(I just smiled big... showed all my teeth)
Church....
Ah...Yes...Church...Somerville....

We continue for this about 2 minutes. I think he got the point that, I was not able to talk to him or did not want to talk to him. But I feel a little dirty about faking that I do not speak English. Praying that I passed for a Haitian, that was FOB. All that he was trying to do is spread the good news. I'm a bad Christian....