justice

 they say anyone can write.

the best laid plans are written. the beginning of all entertainment, philosophy, science, come from writing. journalists inform poets, poetry opens and closes the loop. if it's not in writing history will never happen.

some mornings i awake thinking in spanish, some days english, always american.

people are drawn to writers and then repelled by them for the same reason, we grew up but we kept our child eyes and ears and sense of smell. people are drawn to truth and repelled by it in equal measure. we make friends because we enjoy a pint, a debate, the laughter and the heartache, and so we loose friends. nobody really respects what we do. except other writers, most people think we're lost to our minds and machinations, since we cannot live everything we write, we are perceived as liars and cheats.

my aim is to own a print shop. a little cozy store where you can buy any book, any film and have any shape printed using hemp paper and molded using hemp clay. all libraries are virtual, everyone should have their own private library of favorites. kept for no other reason than love.

mine is the beauty of not owning a phone, or a car, or a bank account. mine is the nothingness of irrelevance. i don't stand in lines, so nothing is in my way. time neither sits nor flies, time cannot be rolexd nor swatched. time possesses no color, no metal, no atoms.

so what does justice look like for me?

it's a cool morning walk through an empty city with a thermos of coffee and a pack of chesterfields. it's a leisurely stroll past buildings and streets with memory and ghosts, a town neglected by god and surrendered to vice, hospitals, morgues, crematoriums. a municipality that with a few minor tweaks could turn a heart attack into a healing opportunity. justice looks like every corner where new beginnings can happen, friends can meet, stories shared, trends ranked, lists made, corners can be justice.