Turkey is Over Rated

     Thanksgiving was as it usually is-the reunion of family members that are not used to being all together-uncomfortably delightful. The combination of our family, me (mingling with everyone, showing off my relationship with all), my sister (genius that tires to imitate my mom and like to pretend we are still little kids, fighting over simple and childish things, something we just do), my brother (always distant, preceding as the complicated and dominant one, not needing the family but just completing with his duties), my father (the true cook and baby of the family, tiring hard to be able to please everybody and using any excuse to start a conversation with my brother George), my mother (the heart and soul of the family, loving and understanding in her insane and menopauseial way).
     The night goes one with arguments, compliments, alcohol and lots of loud music to cover the awqward silence that sometimes surrounds us after an argument, shifting first form my fathers music to my music to my brothers and ending up with my mothers favorite songs-usually the most romantic-since she is drunk by then and wants to hear her songs. The dogs wander around getting love from anybody wiling to give it to them, usually Boo form me, and Jimminy from George. Well the night continues with cooking, eating and lots of showing off. So enjoy these pictures I was able to muster. They are a traditional Gonzalez Thanksgiving.

Asian Pussy

My rooms had become a scared temple of sex and dreams (sometimes a place to sleep). Recently I have been dreaming of meeting someone of my stature, calm, working and with an ambition for a higher purpose in life besides just having babies and dieing (and likes sex). It’s not easy to find someone completely different but have the same structure in life, feeling the same rhythm you feel and wanting the same things in life you want: Patience is necessary. Well this weekend I meet this chick (asian by the way) and things seemed to be going well for the first couple of hours and then her essence, that things or latency and directives that make us that person we are just swallowed me up and threw me spiraling into a pit of discontinuation.
The outdoor night was cold but my house was warm with mixed emotions and ideas. I sat there shuffling a deck of cards, old and worn by many nights of poker playing with old friends. Now they were being shuffled with someone new, a being sitting in front of me, knowing little about her the cards were dealt like fate usually does when meeting new people. Who would have the right hand and who was playing the right game? Smiles and jokes were fling through the air, each hitting the each others soul, setting that barrier between people to a minimum, ignoring the questions one must ask in real life, now only the pace of our hearts where important.
The lively music played in the background, easing the slice that is usually shared with the aspirating sounds coming from two creatures connecting at an aghast commensurate. As we drew closer and jointed together, locking to each other in sight, smell, touch and sound, with a burst of emotion and wanting we both struck each other, ravishing our bodies and combining them to where our heart beats became one. Lust captivated us.
The next day the game was shorter, each knowing already what we were engaging in. My room was our main source of attraction and we spent it well. As we connected our body fluids and she and I felt that gratification in sexual practice the pot was brewing. The boundaries in the relationship were predetermined; there was no relationship. Then after the orgasm the swelling of liquid, created by the emotionally instability of her being was drawn from her ancient appearing eyes. That very second when I asked her what was wrong she told me “Just let me cry.” I knew what I had become, a monster. Instead of finding out more of this frail soul and why she was so outgoing and so easily entwined with other people, I satisfied my hungering sexuality and ended up in a room ever-closing on me and trapping me in her desolation. I knew then, after two days it had to stop.
So far I have not talked to her, knowing that it will be uncomfortable and confusing for both of us, and the only thing I’m looking forward to is writing a blog about my thanksgiving (I took lots of pictures) and putting up the pictures. So for now just enjoy this pictures and the calm feeling it sent me yesterday, showing the beauty in California in it’s rainy season. Something that lets me know it’s all good-ED.

Writers Begining

     It's funny to think how life changes and sends people spiraling into different directions in life. If you were to tell me just a couple of months ago that I was going to be writing-anything-on line I would say it would be a joke. My life was too consumed in materialism and the goal of becoming rich before anybody so that I could be "happy". I ran around working and striving for the perfect girl, house, career, and even friends (something I had already obtained) and so I was blinded. My sudden thrill and aspiration to become a good writer came from a love I still hold secret and only a couple of friends know: An unpublished truth. My writing has become now more of a release of thoughts into the world, knowing that only fate will let certain people read my confused and drained out mind.
     Lets start at the begging of my writing, starting on a small project instructed by the most eccentric woman I have ever met. Mrs. Hoffman is what I define as the "Mac" (the computer) person, complicated and hard to use but once mastered a great asset as a person (I can only imagine as a lover also). Her twisted smile reveals anything a man wants to know and like a bird knows their secret chirps, knowingly sings her thoughts into great lessons and teachings, burning the writer within anyone willing to listen. She comes dressed in colors that any Chef can taste, brining in spring squashes, summer fruits, autumn apples, and winter wheat. She’s a savory dish. As I write I can only think of her thoughts in my words, clinging to her state of mind, hoping that maybe a thought or a certain defining sentence might cling to there her and she might call me a "writer". I would cum in my pants if that ever happened. So as I wrote my first Flowing sentence for Mrs. Hoffman I was also opening a new page in my "adult" life as a writer.
     And to whom do I also owe a great deal of gratitude to introduce me to this blog, in which I feel like a dog in a park, drooling and spunky with the though of endless fun awaiting my arrival, Jeremy. He has for some time been a great friend to me, and is truly a gentleman and a scholar. Although Jeremy seems reluctant to head out into the “real” world (or what people think is), he is as real as they come. I find him to be truer than many people I have come to meet in my early travels. His ambition to learn-on his own-give me a source or definition of “higher education”, being one that a person really wants to obtain and not out of obligation or pressure. He has given me that source of wanting to write, not for a purpose of making money or even getting through school, but instead that self fulfillment that we all really wish to get.
     Before writing blogs here (not that I have many) I was posting my blogs on myspace (not a good idea). It was a good beginning but I found my writing becoming biased on the side of my ex-girlfriend (to make a long story short, she left me and is with another guy now and she has pictures of them posted in her page). My writings showed hints of things that she liked, ignoring or setting aside my actual accountability. My writing became more offensive to me, ruining my thoughts and showing the world a view of something I was not. Pointless writing, all for the purpose that she might like something I said and maybe want to talk to me or-anything.
     Now liberated and with the a little more enthusiasm I will start to write again, starting a new begining in the world of Blogger. Sitting here listening to Jack 93.1, enjoying the nibbles on my feet by my dog; I see a universal and almost unfathomable amount of possibilities. So sit back relax and let me tell you about my life.

YES!!!

Im posting my first blogg that is not on mysapce! YAY thanks Jeremy!