Hunger

The Fox you lug over your shoulder in a dark sack has cut a hole with a knife and escaped.
The sun lightens, makes you think you are stronger as you walk back to your small cottage through a forest that covers the world.

By Billy Collins


Not much has happened over the past month. School, work, debate. The usual. Small stories pop up daily, but none worth me writing down. I've been doing a lot of thinking about my self, where I am in life and where I want to be. I've started my work out routine again, hopefully I can go all the way and reach my goal of a 6-pack.

Women, women, women. Always on my mind. It's nice that I've been able to find women who have some interest in me, but nothing ever seems to come of it. Each time I try to approach, something always is off. A missed connection, a faulty wire. No spark. Is it me? Is it circumstance? Even worse yet is the fact that I don't know out of the women available, who to pursue. I was thinking just how much easier things were when one has a girl friend. But even then, I think back to just how close I came to crossing that line. Of putting forth my carnal needs ahead of my loyalty to the woman I love. Twice I've come to the very edge. I hope and pray I never go over it.

Love. It's odd how it has so much and so little meaning at the same time. It is thrown around so often. Everyone has their own definition, their own weight they attach to it. I've been thinking about the women whom I've said that word to. Three of them. To me, love is eternal. So their will always be a little section of my heart cut out for each of them. It is a word I do not take lightly. And yet I question my self. Was I too quick to say it? Was it really love if the relationship failed? I think of all the women I would of said it to if given the chance. I see their faces as I stare at the wooden desk in class. Not listening to the lecture, instead off in my own world, day dreaming of women. Some of which slipped through my fingers, others I never had a chance.

I often complain that it is hard to find a good women. Yet I know many. Maybe it is me then. Maybe to a good woman, I am not a good man.

It's unnerving this never ending battle in my head. Is it me? Is it them? Is it something else out of my hands? Is it God? I pray to Him, asking for many things. Please let the test be easy. Please let me make it to work on time. Please let me make enough to pay my bills. Please keep my friends safe. He grants me so much. But there is still one thing, that which I ask for the most, which I do not receive. Please bring her to me. I am grateful for all that I have, yet I still want this one thing.

I guess I just have to be patience. Until, then I sit here, waiting for her. Waiting for her warm embrace. Waiting for her body to lay next to mine. Waiting for those images in my mind to turn to reality.






Here's a poem I wrote while at work, bored one afternoon:



Washington by Michael Rodriguez

I've never been to Washington
I know little of the state
I've heard of it's endless ocean of ever greens
Of how people huddle into Starbucks to avoid the incessant rain
While reading their e-mails on their Ibooks
That was my picture of Washington
I was content with my ignorance
But as I sit here
Enjoying the sunny California afternoon
Watching orange county parents
take their children on a stroll
Through the planned city park
I can only think of Washington

Of it's cold, dark sky
Of a wedding
Of a girl
Of a guy other than I
Of a brief meeting at In-N-Out

She told me
He's really sweet
You'll like him

But how could I?

He was tall
Blue eyes, blond hair
Joel was his name
He was quiet
As I sat there whipping my tongue
At both he and the girl sitting next to him
He didn't talk back
Maybe he knew of what he had done
What he had stolen from me
Maybe he was just trying to be civil

That was the only meeting I had with him
The only meeting I ever wanted to have with him
I put him to the far corner of my mind after that

It wasn't until she called
Almost 2 years later

7-14-07
A date was all she gave me
I knew what it meant

A part of me wanted to stop it
Want to jump on a plane to Washington
Wanted to burn down every tree
In search hopes of preventing
This tragic play from continuing

Instead I sit here
Under the perfect blue sky
Breathing in the cool breeze
Eyes closed
Face to the sun

I smile and think
I'm just fine with my little picture of Washington