Avalanche.

up in the mountains
screaming for all to hear you
causes snow to rush

(game snatched from www.abcarcade.com)

Up, up, up the mountain!!

Seeking.

emails are sent out
like a steady flowing stream
but the fish don't bite

As my current job hunting letters have failed to produce any kind of result, I believe a new cover letter may be in order...

August 24, 2007

Dear Human Resources:

I saw your job post on craigslist for a Junior Account Executive. Against my better judgement I send you this reply, knowing that you aren't going to email me back or call to schedule an interview. I have a Bachelor of Science from Ithaca College -- it sits at home. I majored in Television & Radio and minored in Still Photography. My major concentration was Advertising & Public Relations.

If you find the time to review my CV you will notice that I do not have any internships or marketable job experience. This is true, but I have years of activism and student government experience, I have run for public office as an endorsed candidate and was invited to Fordham University by Hector the Magic Spic to present my photographs to his group -- aside from sitting behind that computer screen avoiding this response, what have you done for your common man? Right, just as I thought, keep him down.

I have worked in many retail locations and quickly rose to management. I have great team-working skills, can follow direction, work alone and I can even shuck and jive. I have survived hurricanes and frequent air travel. I have the ability to seduce you online in hood Spanish. There has never been a new skill that I couldn't master in a short time span, so that proprietary software you're running -- I got that in the bag already.

I know you aren't interested in my CV so instead I have attached a picture of my ass. In the event that you don't wish to offer me a job, feel free to print out the picture of my ass and give it a big ol' kiss. However, if you would like to offer me a job, save that picture in a secret place and keep that in the back of your mind when it comes time for bargaining for vacation time.

Thank you for getting this far in this email and may you have a blessed day.

Sincerely,
Chulo Rodriguez, M.D.



All a man got is his balls and his word... and I don't break those for nobody...

Stupid.

i spread my legs wide
let a nigga bust in me
now he dun want me

No, I am not talking about myself in the haiku. That one is for the thousands of knocked up hoes nation-wide that continue to give birth to children who were fathered by scandalous, ratty ass, go no where, mama's boy type-a-niggas. And the best part -- the bitches gone knew that he was like that when they started to fuck around. He has two other baby's mamas (which I'll have you know, is now part of a family structure... dad, girlfriend, baby's mama...) and the stupid bitch think that because she came into the picture this motherfucker gon change? Bitch out her damn mind.

I found this new website that is quite entertaining. It's called "Don't Date Him Girl" and while some of these warnings are legit, there are countless stories of bitches who have been left high and dry with bastard children looking for child support. Whatever your objections to abortion are, hopefully you will have objections with this as well. Not only are these hoes engaging in premarital sex (also a sin), but they're not using any kind of contraceptive method (which is stupid), they see that a motherfucker already got kids that he dun support and he treats women like shit. I mean if that doesn't scream get the fuck away from a nigga right away, I don't know what does! These bitches be stuck on some low-life dick like flies to paper. I don't understand it!

Granted, some of these guys might look good -- you know, in that ghetto, baggy clothes, wanna-be-thug, cornbread eating kinda way. But when does the brain kick in and say "¡Peligro! ¡Peligro, Will Robinson!". Take some responsibility for yourselves bitches! You KNEW he was gonna bounce on you and you went and got knocked up anyway! You KNEW he ain't be supporting the other children he already has! You KNEW that there was, in no way, any kind of hope for the relationship since he was living with his mother and ain't graduate from high school or even have a car (beat down or otherwise).

What were you thinking?

Now you sit, child attached to your left titty and you lookin for yo check?! You cry, "Woe is me, that nigga ain't want me or my bastard kid!" Bitch please, stop lookin' for the nigga to turn around and give a shit -- he don't -- he's not gonna. Your stupid ass gone let him fuck you with no condom -- your stupid ass got knocked up -- your stupid ass gone AND HAD THE BASTARD CHILD -- and now, after your stupid ass gone and done all that -- your stupid ass still lookin' for the motherfuckin' deadbeat to grow up and act like he gives a shit! (Well, I'll have you know, he does not!)

It's because of dumb bitches like this that I advocate for mandatory licensing for all live births. You did not pass the test and receive a license, then you do not pass Go, collect $200 or give birth! Shit, that would curb overpopulation right there! Let these bitches be responsible for something -- responsible for taking the child preparedness exam!

Today on Oprah, we discuss how Shaqwanda gone and got knocked up after an orgy with Tyrell and his six friends he plays football with...

Fat.

as i sit at home
i grow to look more pregnant
moodiness ensues

:: dusts off keyboard ::

Day two-hundred and seventeen of Chulo's unemployment has led him to the ultimate revelation -- he has become fat. And it isn't the typical "Christmas Fat" that usually accompanies winter and holiday eating -- this is more of the "Second Trimester" fat that no self respecting individual would like to admit to having, especially outside of pregnancy. Due to the fact that I am a male, I should not be having any kind of trimester fat.

It should be interesting to note that I have learned to cook, but there is no doubt that my gratuitous use of butter and whole milk while cooking has added to the pounds that I have gained. Some would argue that I look "healthier" but we know what they're really saying -- they're saying I look fattened up. Plump. Ready for slaughter. "Healthy" is merely an adjective that is used by those who set out not to offend. It's one of those candy-coated terms -- you would find it next to "big-boned" or "special".

With the abundance of time that I have on my hands, I look out my window and see the ghetto youth of the Bronx out in the streets. I can only wonder how they maintain their body structure. They can't possibly be going to Crunch fitness every day because they're out in the streets 24/7, nor do I believe that they're well fed. Is it possible that if I can copy their dietary plans and keep up outside all day and night that I might be able to loose the pounds and have a washboard stomach. Perhaps the key to fitness includes eating platanos and hanging from the walk/don't walk signs that are attached to street poles.

You see it in the Dominican Republic too -- most of the boys got some sick bodies - all kinds of tone and cut up. They live in the jungle and swim in the rio, so I suppose that out running some feral beast while en-route to the watering hole would keep you in tip top condition. Again, it comes back to the platanos.

But aren't they starch? you're asking yourself... Yeah, they are, and that's why it makes no sense. If my stomach wouldn't object every ten minutes, I would fast for a week. I can't deal with the stomach conversations tho. I don't know what to do anymore. As I am unemployed I can't go to the gym because I can't pay for it -- once I become employed I won't have time for the gym so I won't go. Talk about a fucking paradox! What am I to do? I could always donate the fat to some kind of scientific research firm, but I don't know if I would be a suitable subject for experimentation.

Damn, I turned into the only disgusting motherfucker over the shortest period of time. I feel the need to procure drugs and go on the only diet to rid myself of this disgusting abomination that is my gut. If I could get an abortion I would. There must be something growing inside of me at an unnatural rate. It is about to break the sound barrier, that's how fast it's growing.

Anyone got a good plastic surgeon that they could refer me to... I have no health insurance so I'll have to pay them with cans...

Still.

i sit on the couch
with no money for my rent
and no job in sight

I have not died or forgotten about this blog. I have instead sunk into a depression that is consuming my life at quite a rapid pace, and it is this lack of a job that will deliver the final blow.

I'd like to thank the Academy for giving me this chance to be humbled before my peers... with out you, I'd never had made it this far...

Extension.

a budding project
still budding in the back seat
of my mental thoughts

CHULO RODRIGUEZ, MD EXTENDS HIS STAY IN THE SUNSHINE STATE

CALCETINES VIEJOS, Florida—17 Abril 2007—Chulo today announced that he has extended his visit in God's waiting room. Bowing to pressure from various constituencies within the state, he has been persuaded to stay until Saturday...

So I've been in Florida for ten days. Interesting, right? Don't you think that my home life in New York has gone to shit? It has, and I'm not even there. I tried to keep everyone happy -- tried to balance family commitments with other commitments in life.

Of course you know I have failed at this seemingly simple task. Because my trip has been extended by roughly four days, now I am this horrible person who is inconsiderate of the needs of others and blah blah blah. Keep in mind -- this is coming from an individual who is not nearly as close to his parents as I am with mine. That said, our apartment is a short train ride away from his parent's house, we've had members of his family over for dinner and movies, we've gone to his parent's house to help with various jobs... Need I go on?

Seeing them is easier than seeing some people who will remain nameless as I don't have resources to wage multiple battlefronts from my present location.

My family is in the state of Florida. I don't know if ya'll are aware of this, but there is no MTA train that goes to that destination. I know it sounds absurd, but it's true -- you can't use your metrocard to go to Florida. Check it here, you'll see that Florida is not on any map.

My phone has been turned off because I am tired of hearing it ring. The best part -- you'll need my entire soc to turn it back on. Both the SIM card and phone are locked out. Let's see someone accidently turn it back on.

Fuck with me, I thought you knew. Oh wait, you ain't hurd?

That's too bad.

I have a good mind not to go back. It's cheaper for me to exist in the state of Florida and still manage to pay my rent. I have a few jobs here. Could you imagine me keeping an apartment in New York while living at home with my family? That would be some shit right? All on a salary from working at a goofy Blockbuster Video store. Not that there is anything wrong with the block, it's just that I worked so hard to get away, only to come back. It's some funny shit, really, it is.

I left him with an icebox filled with food. Prepared food. The all spiced, place on a hot stove for a few minutes kind of food. He's still fucking up dinner and complaining. Suddenly, Faith Evans comes onto the iTunes... Love Don't Live Here Anymore... I don't know if ya'll have hurd it, it's from the 90's. Andrelaso is probably shaking his fist at me for busting out with a Faith reference, but it's still funny. She sounds like him on the phone... You abandoned me... love don't live here anymore... Just a vacancy... love don't live here anymore... Add some old school Bad Boy Ent. beats and a female voice whining out the words and you got the song!

If I wanted to be an asshole, I wouldn't have said anything. I would have continued my vacation without any mention of a flight change. Just keep on truckin... sports bars and lounges... hanging out with attractive people having wonderful conversation over a martini and some food. Music and laughter -- all while the temperature OUTSIDE is someplace in the 70s and there are clear skies.

Cost of living in Florida ~ $36.00 (Two Really Good Cosmos and Tip)
Cost of living in New York ~ $750.00 (Rent, Utilities, Some Food)

Ya'll do the math. Where am I better off?

:: silence ::

Where am I returning to... even with a four day extension?

:: silence ::

Am I fucking retarded or is it something else?

:: silence ::

That's what I thought.

Run with us or run from us or get run the fuck over...

Lesson.

iwayoses don't dance
unless they in the throno
found at a tambor

Of course you know that I am in trouble yet again. This time I was minding my own business talking to the Iyawo and the new Iyawo, Esther, the wonderful woman who cooked at my Iyawo's santo.

Knowing not to get into the throno from the last santo that I was present for, don't you think I was avoiding it at all costs? Clearly Madrina had other thoughts when she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to the center of the room to tell me to stay away. She said that I did not belong anywhere near the trees. Dejected and alone I slunk off into a corner to write.

As the Iyawo doesn't have his three months, he can't do much but dance under the throno. While everyone is out ki-ki-ing, I am to find something to do with myself. He can't leave the throno and I can't go near the throno.

Tambores of yore are but a thing of the past. I should learn to dance on my own, but I am very self concious about dancing and such things. I have just started learning songs. It just seems that my function at the tambor is to merely be a pariguayo, watching it all from the side while feverishly blogging on my t-Mobile sidekick.

Padrino is convinced that I am trying to find out all of the secrets by reading books that I am not supposed to and that my dedication is lacking. While I do admit, I do not have the drive that my god brother Andre has, that does not mean that I am not trying to do my best to learn what I can -- the correct way. My problem is, and always has been my curiosity. I am never completely satisfied until I take it apart and rebuild it -- I want to know how and why it works the way it does.

Andre is from Brasil and he's been planning his santo since his emergence from the womb. Me, I found this on my own as I was exploring Cuba, and it finally blossomed into something bigger than it ever was before.

Madrina is getting touched right now, and I can't see the Iyawo because I have been taken from near the throno. So here's my prediciment, if we're all here and no one is with the Iyawo, am I to feel guilty should something happen to him? Of course I will, but people will tell me that it isn't my fault and blah blah blah.

I love Esther to death, which is the only reason that I am here, but Padrino was right about tambores, and I don't think
I'll be at another tambor for some time. 

Come and knock on our door... We've been waiting for you... Where the kisses are hers and hers and his, Three's company too.

Disbelief.

and he said to me
she wants us out of this place
and i said no way

Andrelaso and Montez are leaving the Calle. Calle cinquena y seis, home to the parents of Chulo the Great, is losing its brightest beacon of homosexuality. The latest victims of Ms. Peña, they were told that their lease was not going to be renewed because of family issues relating to the health of her aging father.

In disbelief, I told Andrelaso that he could find a wonderful place in the Bronx. He told me that he would never live in the Bronx. I mentioned that it had roomy spaces at reasonable prices. He told me the only reason I moved to the Bronx was for uncut penis and botanicas. To which I replied, I found a new botanica down the street.

He said that they were going to look for a place together, but if all else failed, his love interest Rican Mangu would let him stay with him until he found a place of his own. I told him that was nice. Keep in mind that Rican Mangu lives but a stop away from me on the D train.

Yes folks, in the Bronx.

Needless to say I was slightly irritated that he would end up in the Bronx as a last resort, but I went to the Bronx on my own. I must admit that aside from the strange issues I have with the heat and the random mouse, my apartment is pretty fucking nice. Oh, and did I mention that the rent was only $1130?

It's whatever whatever tho. I have noticed the only changes in my life and I don't know what is the root cause of any of it. I sit here today, unemployed and on vacation and the only thing on my mind is the day after tomorrow when I am completely happy and not worrying about any of the bullshit in my life that once preoccupied a great slice of time from my day.

In the meantime, I think I'll find some uncut penis to play with or a botanica that sells fresh herbs.

The Latino Fan Club is the number one producer of...

Bases.

are belong to us
us... us... us... us... us... us...
are belong to us



Translation at its finest!

Coincidence.

sitting in my house
bored, alone -- on vacation
clearly he was too

So I've been on vacation for about three weeks now as I have no job. I really haven't stressed it, because I lost my job for political reasons, and I'm over it. To pass the time, I found xtube, yet another horrible website that keeps me and my webcam busy making movies with iMovie.

I know what you're thinking -- Chulo, how could you?

Really, it was quite easy.

Now the problem with all this -- you know there must be a problem because I'm here writing -- the problem is that this kid who we know who participated in this weeks festivities found those movies. Here's the thing. I really don't care if he sees my shit. The funny thing is this, he's the one who is beating his shit to my movies.

Now, because you know faggots carry, don't you think that he went to my godfather, Felix the Great, and said that he found his godson's movies on xtube? I like to have open communication with Padrino, so when he confronted me I was like, Yep, those are mine.

What one must wonder, why does he feel the need to put me on blast like that?

It's whatever-whatever. I don't mind that he puts me on blast. I have no shame. He even said to Padrino that he didn't know that I was like that. Padrino told him that both me and the Iyawó are pretty insane when it comes to things of that nature. In all seriousness, it's only a finger that spits.

From the time I met him there was something about him that turned me off. I mean he's nice to look at, but he's really not all there. He is also a child of Obatalá. The moment that I was sure that he was out his mind was when we went to a mysterio party down the street. He got drunk and acted a damn fool. That was some funny shit -- he was a complete disrespect to himself. One might say I disrespected myself by making those movies to begin with, but it wasn't like I was doing it out of obligation or last resort. I was merely exploring another aspect of my personality and sexuality. Apparently I am part exhibitionist, and that's perfectly healthy.

"In high school I was the dog, always, and I never have felt comfortable or right in my body, and part of my whole exhibitionist thing has probably been a way of testing to see whether or not I really was this repulsive creature that I felt like for so long." ~ Poppy Z. Brite

Eleggua.

working together
wet concrete shaped and molded
the secret inside



Handmade Eleggua, Made from the freshest ingredients on the Earth by skilled artisans...

Oddity.

haters all around
trying to hinder my growth
but i know better

My blog has exploded with emotion and spiritual growth. What was starting to be an inconvenience has actually turned out to be a blessing as Felix the Great had predicted from the beginning. It's a shame that there are those out there who are really trying to hinder this sensation that I have been experiencing -- trying to bring me back to the solitude I started to get away from. What's even more heart breaking is that it is someone I know.

We all know that the internet is a forum for open communication -- much of it anonymous. This very blog for example, while people I know are the primary demographic, it can be read (and consequently commented on) by anyone with an internet connection. I checked my email today -- something that on a regular day might be done over fifty times -- and there was an automated message from the blogger service bringing to my attention to a new comment that had been posted. I thought, wow, someone is commenting on my recent posts.

When I ever read the contents of the email, my jaw fell.

Someone anonymously posted a comment to a blog that is over six months old. A blog that is exactly the antithesis to everything that I am currently going thru. A blog filled with nothing but jealousy and self-doubt. (blog)

If you only knew what really happened.. Only them two would known and those they shared with.. The world will never know!

I have my suspicions of who could have posted the comment. I won't speculate here as I am not completely sure. What I am sure of however is that if this person knew me like I thought they did -- if this person was appreciative of anything that I have shared with them, any help I've given them -- they would have nothing but a feeling of warmth and support for my personal growth. Contrary, there is nothing but a negative vibe, ill-will and a strong desire to take me out of my current ascension into a better life than what I was living.

I will not falter -- I am going to better myself. This blog entry will be the only response to that comment.

My last reading with Eleggua warned me about people I considered to be friends; people who have disappeared from my life that I still hold on to. He told me that I should beware because these people I call friends are not good for me because they aren't really friends, but rather people in my life who keep me back -- people who hold me down and cause me to remain in la sombra de mi vida.

I know who I can count on, and as horrible as it is to say, I have not been treating that person the way that he deserves to be treated.

"He who finds a faithful friend, finds a treasure."

Confusion.

bets were being made
paternity was in doubt
then he dropped the shells

The reading closed with an important thing that I must always remember, "Your head carries your body." While it is true that the head is attached to the body and the body attached to the legs, one could see the body carrying the head, but if it wasn't for the head, the legs wouldn't know where to carry it to. Food for thought.

I had my reading with Ochún today. It was an important reading because we discovered who my guardian angel was. The shells dropped were those of my godfather, Felix the Great. He had wanted me to be a child of Ochún, because he is a child of Ochún. Being potentially his first crown, that would have been something special. I can understand that.

When I went to Cuba, Ifá said that I was a child of Eleggua. From that time, I had a connection with Eleggua, and I had myself excited that when I did santo, I would be crowned with him. After padrino telling me day after day that I was a child of Ochún, I started to think about it. I envisioned myself throwing down as he does -- no longer flat on the ground, but seated, bringing each elbow to the floor. I was ok with being one of her children. I have great respect for padrino, and if I was a child of Ochún, I would want to be like him.

Needless to say, the shells said that I was a child of Obatalá. I am still throwing myself flat to the floor. I was disappointed at first because I thought if it didn't come out Eleggua that it would come out Ochún. I don't know much about Obatalá, and it made me weary. In a way, it is good because now I can learn more about aspects of the religion that I wasn't aware of prior.

Besides the obvious importance of dropping my guardian angel, the reading also came out with some interesting things. Ochún told me that my education had stopped prematurely. I was supposed to continue learning, and by now should have made something of myself. If you think about it, I got out of Ithaca in 2004, Had I continued, it's three years later, and I could have earned a higher degree in that timeframe. I had moved to Florida and everything was disrupted. * Luz *

She also told me that my lack of patience is a problem. I need to learn patience, and I need to learn it quickly. Stop getting angry at myself when things out of my control don't work out. Stop blaming myself and start loving myself. I need to take credit for my accomplishments. Even tho I have some intense moments, she knows that I am not crazy. Instead of doing whatever I want, I need to start to seek advice from elders so that I remain on the correct path.

She said that I am strong headed and I have a lot of anger inside. I should stop and think before I run my mouth. I have a good spirit and want to help people, but I need to stop because people take credit for things I've helped them get in life. I'm smooth -- I can play everyone -- except for Ochún. She knows me inside and out, and it won't work. I have a talent in my hands, and I should use it. Instead of dedicating myself solely to work or solely to love, I need to find a balance between the two to make it work. I should lie only when it will save myself.

Ochún wants me to find a job and to go back to school. I need to establish a written plan for myself and not let people distract me from accomplishing my goals. I need to get a chain around my foot for stability. I have a Palo muerto, and because of this I need to be scratched. With all of that said, Ochún will help me get a job and find stability in my life. When I get on track with my life, in my job and with my education, I should pursue santo.

Your head carries your body... entonce, let's go for a walk...

Sleep.

lying on the floor
the solitude surrounding
both body and mind

I spent the night on the floor. Granted, I had cushions from the couch and a pillow, but that does not negate the fact that I was still on the floor. The Iyawó was actually on the floor laying on his mat inside the throno. My cushions parallel to the side of the throno, I glanced over at the corner. Under my down comforter, the Iyawó slept peacefully.

I thought back to the week before when he slept peacefully with me in my bed.

The thought of him being across the floor, not but five feet away, and me unable to go next to him was too much, and as I laid on my cushions I began to cry. The amount of sentimental feelings that I held on to were tremendous. I did not make much noise due to the fact that I wanted to avoid waking the sleeping child next to me, but I think he knew.

Tears in my eyes, I rolled over and went to sleep.

I had a peculiar dream. It wasn't one of those muerto inspired dreams of randomness that have begun to invade the mind-scape of my dreams. It was something more Chulo. In my usual fashion, I was on a spacecraft of sorts in the dead of space. My mission was to activate the self-destruct system to detonate a reaction inside the ship causing it to explode. Of course it wasn't a simple push of a button, but rather involved me searching the craft for access panels that were to all be activated first before the ship would blow. Upon completion, I made my way to the escape craft only to realise that there were still people on the larger ship.

What to do.. what to do...

Typically, I would go back and save them, however, for some reason, I hopped into my escape vehicle and said, "peace out".

Another dream, another voyage into the warped mind of an individual looking for his place to fit in.

“I go to sleep to dream because you are my dream. Now, that I have you, my life needs no rest.”

Chango.

colors red and white
animal barbarian
a warrior king

A note on Changoses.

Minding my own business at the tambor today, I had a close encounter of the Chango kind. I had Chango ripping a chunk of hair from my head. Now on its face, this could merely be an isolated incident, but keep in mind, this is Chulo we're talking about.

This sounds like another tale of lore that was once told by a puerto rican who's currently living in a corner in the apartment. He came home telling tales of a savage Chango who came down and ripped one of his braids out of his head. I laughed at him and told him he shouldn't get in the way of Chango and his food.

He didn't find it as entertaining as I did, but I now know why.

Keep in mind one important thing -- that puerto rican is now... yes folks, it's none other than... the Iyawó.

What does this mean? One could say that it means that this Chango is the same, and he likes to rip people's hair out they head with his teeth. Unfortunately that is not that case people -- this is two different Changoses, in two different locales, one a man and one a woman. Why is it that we have the same result?

Needless to say, I have a strange feeling that this is more significant than me having a bad hair day. Tomorrow we will continue our miniseries, Chulo and the Iyawó. Don't change that dial -- we'll be back soon.

Chango, the invincible warrior chief, the whoring god of storm and lightning...

Rhythm.

welcome the drummers
the iyawo begins to dance
by his mother's side

In this third day of our installment of Chulo and the Iyawó, we held the tambor. The tambor is a celebration of the initiation into Ocha, aka getting santo. The hall began to fill -- what began as droplets slowly turned into a flood. I, in the room with the Iyawó and his family, waited patiently for whatever mishaps to unfold.

The drummers entered the throno room one by one with their instruments in hand, five in number, two women and three men. Once gathered, a powerful voice began to sing. Without any microphone, her voice filled the room, and within an instant the drumming and percussion commenced. Starting slowly, she worked her voice into a fevered song; the drums kept pace with as much force and clarity of sound that she produced from inside.

The tamboleros played as the singing continued. Song after song was performed; each celebrating a different Orisha. Now, you know I have a thing about the overuse of the word beautiful, but, even I will say that this was one of the most beautiful things that I have seen in some tim -- if not ever. It was to the point that I was holding tears back. With that said, by far the most beautiful moment of the entire opening sequence was that of the shared moments between the Iyawó and his madrina.

As the singing and drumming continued to pervade the emptiness of the apartment, they began to celebrate Yemaya. During the song, both children of Yemaya were touched simultaneously. At first glance, they appeared still, however as the music continued they came alive. The Iyawó stood still and began to shake -- his godmother by his side, gently spinning. The event came to a crescendo when the Yemayas came together, their crowns touching in what was by far one of the most symbolic moments of the afternoon. As his Ojubona looked on, he came to the assistance of the two, gently blowing into their ears and bringing them down from their spiritual encounter. Madrina broke down, pounding the walls, cursing Yemaya as the tears streamed down her face. The Iyawó sat on his pilón, greedily drinking water from his porcelain white cup.

Once the drummers finished presenting to the throno, they moved into the big room. Santero after santero continued to throw themselves to the throno -- the Iyawó throwing himself to them. The music began again, filling the entire apartment and most of the street with beautiful sounds. The guests started to dance, and the tambor heated up. People standing side by side moving in unison to the rhythm of the drums. The vocals continued to soar over the sound of the drums. Again, they played to each santo, beginning with Eleggua. People continued to pass before the Iyawó and the throno as I exited the room.

As I scanned the apartment for faces I knew, I found Andrelaso hanging out by the door. The room was filled with people dancing and he appeared as but a wallflower, or as dominicans would say, pariguayo. I knew he didn't really want to be there to begin with, but I figured he would warm up and get into it. I was wrong, but hey, I am wrong frequently these days. I continued to wander around looking at the guests as I made my way back to the Iyawó.

Standing in the room, the music sounded as if it was coming closer towards the throno, and it was. Alex, the puerto rican with Chango who's ex-man made the Iyawó's suit and the garments for the santo was coming down with Chango. Before you knew it, Alex threw himself to the throno breathing heavily, Madrina and the Oujbona ran to undress the man, removing his shoes and rolling up his pants to help him into his role of Chango. Once Chango came down, he threw himself to the throno again, and proceeded to throw himself to every Santero in the place, both big and small. He then broke the noise with barbaric grunting, followed by conversation with those in the room. The Iyawó standing in the throno listening looked at me and told me to throw myself to Chango. Thinking nothing of it, I did as was suggested, and went down to the floor. Chango lifted me up, and then intently stared at me from across the room. He approached me and threw off my hat, only to then bite a chunk of hair out of the center of my head. Stunned, Chango continued to tell my Godfather, Felix, the Great, the Iyawó's Oujbona, that if I don't understand what I'm getting myself into by continuing with santo, that I should stop now while I'm ahead.

I think I'm beginning to understand.

Chango left the room and returned to the tambor. Before anyone knew what was going on, Madrina's Yemaya was coming down, Chango by her side. It was when her Yemaya came down and threw herself to the throno that I really started to feel it. I don't know what it was, but once she got up and looked at the Iyawó, my eyes began to tear again. You all know that I am not a very emotional person like that, but yo, when I tell you I was done, it was a wrap. I dropped to the ground, and threw myself to Madrina's Yemaya. When I got up, the tears fell.

After, the Iyawó told me that it was while the tamboleros were playing to Ochun.

I don't know anything about that, but what I do know is that her Yemaya sent me into the only emotional mess.

Yemaya spent a good minute in the throno room. She went to the Iyawó's mother and told her that it was because of her that she has the chance to crown her son -- that she loves him as much, if not more than his birth mother does. Yemaya then went to the Iyawó's godmother's children and they threw themselves one by one. It was then that I started to really feel it -- the tears came down and my Godfather came to me to make sure I was doing ok. I told him I was fine, but that didn't stop him from asking thruout the evening.

Chango and Yemaya went back into the area where the guests danced. Chango eventually went away leaving only Yemaya. Looking confused when an unmounted Alex came to pass, Yemaya wondered where Chango went. Bear in mind, Madrina's Yemaya is unable to speak yet, so she's speaking via hand gestures and movements translated by Santeros.

My hip began to vibrate. Andrelaso sent a text message that he left the tambor because he had other engagements -- he failed to say goodbye to the Iyawó or myself. I suppose I should consider myself lucky that I even got a text message at all, but hey, who am I?

The crowd began to become alive again -- Madrina's godmother was coming down with Ochosi. Let me tell you -- she was fighting it. The drumming became more fierce, and Yemaya stood by the Ochosi's side -- it was as if Yemaya was egging Ochosi on -- purposefully taunting him to get him down. The Ochosi danced her way into the room that contained the throno only to stop inches from throwing herself to the ground.

This was to be one of the last moments of incident for the evening. Yemaya went away leaving Madrina unkempt and shaking next to her godmother who was in a similar state. The tamboleros played for the last time to close, and the entire house broke into dance. As people filtered out, the food was served and my belly was again full.

Tonight I shall sleep in the room with the Iyawó. Unable to get into the throno with him, I shall pretend that the heat emanating from the radiator is actually the heat from his body that I have become accustomed to having in my bed with me. Hopefully that muerto will leave me alone this evening, as i really don't want to be up at three again, but hey, who knows... I do like late night snacks.

Eleggua quiere tambor...

Feeling.

inside the throno
the iyawó shares his feelings
chulo starts to think

Religion is a puzzling thing. After an education and upbringing rich in science, it is hard to abandon fact finding and tangible evidence in search of faith and spirituality. So much of any religion is based on believing on things that are iconic in form, yet hold a much deeper purpose. Is this "spiritual growth" something that one can learn along the path, or is it much more of a self-actualized sense one already possesses that continues to build and grow?

Most religions have you believing in one god -- one being that will guide you thru life and lead you to eternal salvation. They tell you a tale of a man sent from above who has come to die for the sins of man. They bring evidence of his existence via a book and random artifacts scattered thru-out the world. Eat his body, drink his blood -- live forever eternally in the temple of heaven. It sounds like a story you've heard, right?

Polytheistic religions are much more complex. No longer is there just one god, but many, hence poly -- a latin prefix for more than one. Now with more than one deity, combine that with the ceremony that is santo, a union of you and your guardian angel. Now you are one with the santo, one to practise and continue the oral and symbolic traditions of a years old african religion that became merged with christianity in order to protect the practitioners from religious persecution. You are a conduit that can channel the santo, become the santo. You share your body with this essence, an essence that is as old as the Earth, if not older, yet once delivered, but merely a child.

That is the journey the Iyawó has begun. A journey to last one year and seven days. A journey of "teaching" the santo how to function in today's world. A year to relearn and develop -- become accustomed to the host it now lives inside. In effect, a symbiotic relationship between a day-walker and a celestial spiritual essence that is now merged into the host's head.

It makes you stop and think.

After speaking to him about his yesterday, it's clear that while he physically looks the same as the day before santo, he has a new perspective on many things in life. In his words, he told me that last week, while he was happy, he felt incomplete. Today, not but two days have passed, and while still happy, he feels that he needs nothing more in his life -- a feeling of completeness has come over his person and his spirit.

Now, scientifically, one is left to wonder. How exactly has this process changed this individual into believing that he is complete. Aside from the obvious ceremony that had been performed, what tangible explanation can account for this?

There is none.

I can't explain it any more than the weather man who fails miserably when predicting the weather. What I do know, after watching not nearly the entire santo ceremony, I am left wondering so many things. Can a spiritual essence be in effect "born" into the head of another sentient being that walks the Earth and communicates? I believe so. Is this as far fetched as consuming bread and wine in order to produce eternal salvation from the flames of the inferno? Not even remotely. This entire process leaves you with tangible elements you can look upon and feel the essence of the life you now possess; a new realisation of what life holds.

What the fuck.

I don't even know how to explain what I am going thru, let alone that of the Iyawó, who, from his throno, is experiencing life from entirely new perspective, barely three days old.

Drink from me and life forever; eat from me and never die...

Peculiarity.

happening frequent
yet easily dismissed
the muerta appears

Typically something like this would be written off as a dream. Granted -- many of my dreams I end up seeing thru the window of my dreams unfold before my eyes in the world of reality, but this one, this one was too on the money to be dismissed.

The Iyawó would wake up in the middle of the night because of his muertos. Muertos are the spirits of the dead who walk with you, who guide you spiritually thru your path in life. Each night, he would wake up around 3:00 in the morning and would speak of his muertos. Because my muertos weren't speaking to me, I would "Aiite, son.", roll over and go back to sleep.

In my dream, it was much like a Deep Space Nine episode when the Emissary would open an Orb in the Celestial Temple, there were people present and things were said, but the backdrop was all light and fuzziness. My Godparents were speaking to me. They were telling me I was to complete something -- a ceremony or process of that nature. It was also specified that it should be done within thirty days. Old methods and ancient techniques used were to accompany the journey.

Needless to say, I find this to be problematic for two reasons. The most important being the fact that I like to sleep, and this brief interruption at three in the morning can't be an everyday occurrence. The second being that I usually don't remember my dreams, and this could be a sign of something else.

Dream as if you'll live forever, live as if you'll die today. ~ James Dean

Empty.

matanza ended
smells of animals linger
always a surprise

The Iyawó rests under his throno. Santeros busily cleaning the apartment. Eleven boxes of animals have feed the santos and then later reduced to a stew intended to enrich them further. Where am I in this great event? Lost in translation.

Sorry for the interruption... I was just informed that the trash bags of animal remains were not to be sent into the trash receptacle. If anyone has questions, I was in the mood to eat a farm. Shit, a nigga gotta eat, right? Tragically I don't think they'll understand my dilemma. Moving on.

In all seriousness, I do have a better understanding of the entire process that has just flashed before my eyes. People from the outside looking in only see animal cruelty and a butcher shop. The whole event really is a spiritual and mental mind-fuck that brings amaze and bewilderment, and that is something truly inspiring.

Ancient traditions of religion passed down thru action and word of mouth were carried out in an apartment that shares a corner with a pimp and a crack-whore. It brings a new meaning to irony and juxtaposition. And we didn't even have to leave the Bronx!

I sit here in my room on the couch that was in the big room but twenty-four hours ago. My mind working to process the day's events into a more comprehendible form -- much like the stomach would digest food. Speaking of food, my stomach just reminded me that I'm long overdue, and food should be inserted into the mouth in order to function properly.

Don't worry -- I'll be back -- someone needs to chronicle this magical and mystical adventures thru space and time. Who better than I?

Tune in for the next episode of Chulo and the Iyawó...

Full House.

strangers all around
the smell of bacon lingers
the animals sound

Today I awoke at 7:30 in the morning. Today I showered and changed clothes. Today I am sharing my apartment with eleven boxes of livestock.

Hoy es el dia de santo.

What does that mean for all of us? I'm really not sure. There is a feeling of excitement coupled with that of anxiety flowing thru my body. Two thoughts perpetually racing across chasms of my mind... 1. If I feel like this, what exactly is in the mind of The Iyawó, (formerly known as Principio) and 2. One day, perhaps remarkably soon, I will know because it will be me in his place.

The Iyawó sits in a corner of the apartment, I mean farm, with a sheet on his head. I sit along the wall with A. the Hun, one of The Iyawó's closest friends. She walked past the individual with a sheet on his head, and failed to realise who was sitting beneath it. The sound of birds clucking pervades the solitude of my mind. No longer is this my apartment -- it has become more than an apartment, more than a farm. The events taking place from the afternoon of the day before, until the sun rests on the seventh day are all out of my hands. I have relinquished control of the course of events and in the process have set a ticking clock. Something I had once taken for granted; something that had kept me secure -- now missing and inside I feel it like the bitter cold on this January day.

The door chimes.

A new noise that gives me feelings of anticipation, much like that of the ringing telephone, and like the ringing telephone, one that will soon be ignored.

I long for the drugs that would keep me docile. I long for the sun shining thru my windows. I long for my bed.

The people who have entered my house, most of which I do not know, walk my halls like I once walked my halls. Today it is their house, I but a guest permitted to sit on a milk crate in an obscure corner chronicling the events as they unravel before my eyes. A. the Hun by my side watching the madness unfold.

My eyes burn from the smoke in the air. Cigarette after cigarette lit in my smoke-free apartment. Clearly whatever respect I pay to others when I come to their home is equivalent to that of nothing -- but I digress.

I have five fresh wounds and a new piercing on my body from the stress of the day before -- all self-inflected, but I don't have a problem. I understand why people cut -- the stress from the events out of your control flow out of your body like the fresh sangre that trickles down my leg.

Today will be a day that is remembered for some time -- has this sacrifice been in vain, or will that too be as appreciated as the life of the animals, one held sacred to the process?

Gotta get off, gonna get... Out of this merry-go-round...

Unique.

on its face it seems
that it has a clear answer
still the river flows



Lonely: The latest cool.

Solitude.

i write this thinking
what's to become of my life
as i slowly die

After moving to New York I expected things to change. And while, for the most part, things have changed for the better, there are aspects of my life that have changed in ways I had never thought possible. Take for example this blog -- what had seemed to be the only outlet that I actually enjoyed taking part of, it has fallen to the wayside. How could this be possible you wonder? I ask myself the same thing. It isn't like my life is filled with magical and mystical adventures thru space and time, so I obviously have enough time to write a scrap or two for you to read. But honestly -- what the fuck am I doing?

Not a God damned thing.

I have no job. I call it a vacation, but to the State of New York I am a member of the unemployed. What is this strange class of people? It's basically those who sit at home each day eagerly waiting for the State to give you a measly sum of money for you to go and purchase eggs, milk, bread, or an XBOX 360. You could also pay your rent or utilities. But seriously now, who is thinking of those things when you can pre-order the latest game at Game Stop for five bucks? That's lunch at McDonalds! But seriously, ask yourself, do you need those calories or do you need Halo 3? Clearly the answer is Halo 3.

I always thought I was the leader of an illustrious nation -- The Nation of Chulo. I'm slowly beginning to realise that my nation might just be a bunch of people I know, and in my mind make out to be the closest group of friends on the face of this green Earth. Tragically, I think I'm lying to you, Reader. More importantly, I think I'm lying to myself. My nation is slowly turning into ancient Rome. A lost civilization that once dominated the planet with their technological innovations and prowess at war.

After Mrs. Peña threw us out of the brownstone in Sunset Park, Principio and I found a nice apartment in one of the hoods of the Bronx. Granted it's missing the beautiful Mexican infested, tree lined blocks of Brooklyn, but I have a kind-hearted hustler for a neighbor. If you need music cds or the latest bootleg, he's your guy! He stays with his child and his wife. She runs the corner and has the bodega owner paying her rent to run his shop. While she's a sweet crack-whore, I'm afraid to get on her bad side. Before my extended vacation, I would go to work and come home. Now I don't have to leave the apartment for much. My nation -- gone. My Nextel doesn't ring or chirp. My email box is barren, except for spam and the random whores from the Internet trying to get into my pants.

I am alone -- granted, I have Principio living with me, but I really am lonely. And it isn't like a romantic lonely, it's just a tragic course of events that has left Andrelaso in Brooklyn even tho his man lives a stop away from mine in the Bronx. It has left the King of Spain missing -- he lives around me and has a new job. He hasn't paid his phone bill in months. My parents call me and we have ten minute conversations about nothing. I try to sound happy, they try to encourage me and tell me they're proud. We all know the truth tho. I know they're counting the days before I call and beg to come home.

Principio is trying to sleep in the bed. I sit at the desk and write in the darkness that has reached out from the night and pervaded my heart. Bitter tales of solitude and loss. This week he is completing something that has been on his mind for the entire time that I've known him. I am afraid of how this is going to change the dynamic that we have. No longer will he be able to go out to the movies with me or out to dinner. He'll be home by six eating on the floor with a spoon. I'll be sitting off to the side watching everything -- more alone than I already am.

I won't front tho because I have slowly begun a spiritual evolution of my own. Unfortunately I do not have nearly the amount of monetary resources to see it to fruition. With the lack of a job and bills to pay, I am unsure of what exactly my future holds. Perhaps a white clad Chulo standing off in the distance or perhaps a dirty Chulo hitching his way back to Florida, his Eshu and Air Force Ones in his North Face pack.

I don't know what to do or where to go. I always said my friends were in New York. Now that I am here, I see shadows where bright faces used to be. Few people have seen my apartment. My heart is glad that Azteca has not forsaken me. Granted I do not see him as often as I would like, but those shared moments resonate in my soul and remind me that there are moments where my solitude is merely a ruse and greater satisfaction can be achieved. Regardless if the cat comes back the very next day or not, I still need to find a job. I could return to the Little Haiti Video Store, but who really wants to do such a thing? Returning to Florida is also out of the question -- I had a hard enough time getting this fold out couch up the stairs, let alone back to Florida.

Should I sit in the darkness wiping the clandestine tears from my eyes? Eleggua wants me to live a better life -- a life I am used to living. He said that living like this is beneath me. If this is the case Eleggua, I need to bring money into the picture -- what's going on?

Forsaken by my Nation, unemployed and alone, I leave you with this tale to ponder...

Eshu was walking down the road one day, wearing a hat that was red on one side and black on the other. Sometime after he departed, the villagers who had seen him began arguing about whether the stranger's hat was black or red. The villagers on one side of the road had only been capable of seeing the black side, and the villagers on the other side had only been capable of seeing the red half. They nearly fought over the argument, until Eshu came back and cleared the mystery, teaching the villagers about how one's perspective can alter a person's perception of reality, and that one can be easily fooled.