Naci En Alamo (Original Video Clip)

I watched Vengo for the what seems like the 100th time last night. This is a song from the movie. Remedios Silva Pisa recorded it when she was 17. Haunting

What Matters Today

This thing has been boiling up inside of me for awhile. See, I work in an office. My main source of exercise is walking down the hall to the vending machine room to buy junk food. This room has a pop machine and a vending machine with candy, chips, gum, nuts and pastries. Whoever has filled this machine lately is messing with my lifestyle. The vending machine usually has 2 rows of assorted pastries like HoHos, Twinkies, Cup Cakes, Zingers and the like. Well now the person who fills the machine has 2 rows of strawberry Pop Tarts. I read somewhere that people who prefer strawberry over chocolate are psycho. I believe that! TWO ROWS. Maybe a couple of Pop Tarts in between the other stuff. But 2 full rows is outrageous. I am mad! He also has a whole row of candy bars with the picture of some car racer with a Hitler moustache. I keep walking back to the vending room to see if there is anything new. Just the same old stuff. I am getting physically tired from the strain. My knees hurt. My feet hurt. Will my employer's workers compensation policy cover this potential disability? I do not think so. I don't know what the point of this rant is but I am feeling better. Maybe I should buy a bunch of candy and pastries and put them in my desk drawer. The problem with that is that I would eat them all up and I will still need to go see what is in the vending machine. Life is full of problems and I have just identified another one. When I was in line for my morning espresso, Eddie who was in front of me mentioned to me that there are millions of undiagnosed mentally ill people out there. His wife is a therapist so he would know. We got to talking and I started telling him about my dream last night and then his coffee was ready. I was hoping he would tell his wife and she could tell him that I was either crazy or normal. Then he could tell me tomorrow. Well it is not gonna happen. I did not get a chance to relate my entire dream to him. I am jonesing for some junk food. I am going to take a little stroll to the vending machine and I pray to all that is holy in all the religions of the world that have ever been or will be that there are some Zingers in the machine.

Always This Same Street

I have driven this street.
Many towns.
This same street.
Always this same street.

Always wide.
Always long.
This same street.
Always this same steet.

Corner gas stations.
Body shops.
Bars.
Restaurants.
Beauty parlors.
Social clubs.
Dollar stores.
Dry cleaners.
Pawn shops.
Drugs.
This same street.
Always this same street.

Always cloudy.
Always a Brook Benton tune on the radio.
My eyes always looking around.
But knowing what is coming.
This same street.
Always this same street.

I always see it three blocks ahead.
This same street gently rising up ahead.
I can't see what is beyond the rise.
This same street.
Always this same street.

I know I will not go over that hill.
Have to turn.
Sometimes to the left.
Sometimes to the right.
Sometimes a u-turn.
This same street.
Always this same street.

I am not afraid of that same hill.
That same hill.
I am just not ready to go over that same hill.
This same street.
Always this same street.