Cartel

In the movie Traffic they try to pass it off as Tijuana. But, you see, i know those streets. i have seen those walls more times than i like to admit. i found heaven up a spiral stair case that said La Cava. i found heaven there, at a nominal fee.

But, so many places. So many movies. So many people i see everyday think Mexico is all bad. Think MEXICANS are all bad. That we’re stupid and drunkards and ignorant. People do not see their everyday racism. They don’t realize they call their neighbours “them” or call any car that’s a little loud a “wacho car.” They never know how it makes a straight path from their mouth to my ears. There a lot of people listening. They don’t even know they say it. i hope they don’t know they think it.

i found heaven up a stair well. Down a hall. Thirty five dollars and 63 miles from home. i slept again. i relaxed. i ate up clouds and words and music. i felt alive in that silly childish place where the soma fit so well into my blood. Into my little hungry receptors in my brain. Feeling robbed of love or satisfaction. It was there in those receptors where the heaven really was.

i am going to see Chuck on Tuesday. With Eva’s help (technically, since i know nothing of CD burning) i burned a CD for him. i designed a cover. Mostly though, i cannot wait to see him again. To hear him speak. To shake his hand. Another year of something to live on.

It’s funny how a body works.