Slimy Creatures from the Deep

To all the men who approach negatively interested women was they walk anywhere.

Now, what the fuck makes you think I wanna talk to you? If I'm walking down the street with headphones on, that means I'm not trying to be bothered by the idiots who roam free. Yet it is these same morons who feel the need to make their presence known. Yeah, I'm ignoring you. I saw you coming way before you noticed me. I evaluated you in the three seconds it took to realize two things: no potential, not interested. No, not at all...to quote a friend, "We have a conflict of interest. You're interested, I'm not."

If I wanted to talk to you, you would have known. Where did you get confused? Was it the stiffening of my body as you approached me, or was it the fact that I looked straight passed you that tipped you off? Hello...no mixed signals here. Don't care, don't care, don't care! These are the same guys who would go bananas on crack if someone did the same thing to their: mother, sister, aunt, cousin, daughter, girlfriend....the list goes on. It's happened three times to me today. Actually four. I forgot about the really dumb one...you see that? I FORGOT about you. I'm repressing that shit.

The first was some old guy washing a truck. Now there are two problems here...Old, washing truck...in the middle of the afternoon...on a Thursday...where's your job? The second were two kids who mistook me to for a peer. I walked by and they both tried to lean into my line of sight and say wassup. LEAN INTO my personal space bubble. Ok...you're kids, you're stupid. Fine. But don't lean into the wrong person's space, if I'd felt threatened by you, you would have been maced. And the one I almost forgot. I walked to the store, on my phone talking to Cleon about this party...and this guy stepped into my space again, (what's with that? have you no personal boundaries of your own?) and said, "Hey, let me get your number so I can call you later." I asked him if he was fucking serious. Did I lose all my powers of observation? 1-You don't address people with HEY when you don't know them and you're trying to. 2-You're on the phone and I heard you just say, "I'll be home soon honey." 3- You just tried to holla at the two girls who passed you before me. 4-It's 6:15 and you're at a bar. That's called Happy Hour...aka, I gotta drink so I can be drunk enough to put up with my home life. Fuck you.

Now I'm not saying that I'm better than anyone else, but people it boils down to respect. Respect that if I wanted to talk to you, I would have. Respect that if I'm walking like I'm on a mission...I got places to go, even if it is just away from you. I like Happy Hour like anyone else...but at an empty bar on a Thursday? Are you kidding? I mean, what the fuck? Do I have "HARASS ME" tattooed on my forehead today? Gentleman, (and I realize that doesn't apply to everyone who will read this.) if a woman is walking down the street and she doesn't make eye contact with you, that means she could give less than a negative fuck that you exist. Remember that.

wow

Check this out...thanks Errol! The English translation is further down, but I had to put it in its original language.

You can check out more stuff by him here:

http://www.public.asu.edu/~nielle/neruda.htm

Veinte poemas de amor y unacanción desesperada
Pablo Neruda

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Escribir, por ejemplo: "La noche está estrellada, y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos".

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.

En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

Oir la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.

Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.
La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.

De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,
y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.

(translation)

Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write for example, 'The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.

I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.

How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

To think that I do not have her.
To feel that I have lost her.

To hear immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to a pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. I
n the distance.My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

my my my

Oh man...Sleep just stole 3 hours away from me. I didn't ask for it...one minute I was gonna study the next my eyes were opening and I was in a daze. Felt like it slipped me drug, that's what happens when you don't let it have its way. Bastard.

Sleep, the monster that tried to steal my life from me.