"You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. You are the guy who'll decide where to go."
- Dr. Seuss -

My trip to Bolivia was put on hold as a result of the political unrest. 

Victor is probably drawing circles on a notepad while talking to his partners on the phone. Meanwhile I watch an illustration of cats living inside oranges while listening to an old song by Sigur Ros which makes me feel good. I had a great Sunday two days ago when I visited the Louise Bourgeois exhibition and bought my first art piece, a print from Jose Fors. I liked Louise’s sense of humor and the way her work matures over time on her recurring list of personal memories and issues. Everybody has issues, but not everyone knows how to make something beautiful out of it. I asked Queta how she thought beauty remained and manifested during or after chaos, she hesitated without giving me an answer.

Mark mentioned my blog had a sad nature. I don’t want to come across as a nostalgic person, so I will try to write differently. (Suddenly I had a strange feeling in my stomach). What should I write about? (Long wait trying to get some ideas). Brandon emailed from London missing New York. I will be traveling to Bolivia in a week. This is boring. I will write my wish list for the weekend: getting a massage, brush my hair, wake up late, have brunch with friends, buy a cool pair of shoes and other autumn/winter clothes, go to a street market, pet a dog, listen to the entire Magic Flute opera, pretend to read the newspaper and walk from the Upper West Side to Chinatown stopping just to eat a vanilla/chocolate cupcake.

Not so long ago I decided I will stay in New York. It was a big decision, especially since it took me 6 years to realize it and to buy a proper bed. For some people I know taking this decision is still unnecessary, as they think they can go back home as soon as they need to (which only helps to keep a peace of mind, but is never a real option).
The summer is almost over and our house already suffered its first transformation. Brandon and Pepe left the same day, Brandon to London and Pepe to his own house a few blocks away from mine. Laura will stay only for September, and Yolanda will come and join us for a couple of months. We can never get bored, but we always feel a little strange sadness when someone leaves.

Do you still miss me and think about me? Do you still consider staying by me? Do you consider me in your plans? Does it matters?
Sent at 10:03 PM
Time passes by, and will keep doing so regardless what we choose.
Sent at 10:05 PM
If we are not careful we will keep living in this transitory order, in which we decided to be but are not fully enjoying
Sent at 10:06 PM
I want to be with you, but I feel how time melts away, and the idea of being together one day is draining with it.
Sent at 10:12 PM on Thursday

I’m stuffing grapes into my mouth while I’m complaining as usual. Maria Jose sent me a text from Ronald Sukenick intended to shut up my whining and bear in mind that there will always be someone more miserable than you, or than me. At the end of the day life if hard, even for us with all our multiple options (or just the idea of having them, which I’m starting to believe that they are as the backdrop of a theater play, great landscapes but unreal). I’m getting my hand into the zip-lock bag to get the green grapes that are way below the red ones. I don’t like red grapes with seeds, although my mother says seeds are good for the skin.

I'm very tired and my arm is swollen. Today I got the Hepatitis A and B vaccines, and Mexico won a bronze medal for synchronized diving at the Olympics. As always it takes me a while to adjust after a trip.

Listening to "Three Days" by Jane's Addiction while Victor gets his haircut a few blocks away. The past week I attended the International Aids Conference in Mexico City, overwhelmed by the amount of seminars, plenaries, workshops and presentations. The one I enjoyed the most was titled "The Writer's Perspective", with some writers disclousure on being HIV positive, and their role as creators and artists to bring something else to the disease besides the scientific, activist or statistic approach. Giving "living with HIV" a sentiment, a reflexion, a condition along with the others that makes us human.

I have two more days left with Victor. We are having breakfast at La Selva, scambled eggs with ham and coffee. I can drink coffee now, the parania has disappeared after years of feeling allergic to caffeine.

Victor and I met Diego by chance while eating at a terrible coffee shop in La Condesa. His girlfriend left him with a broken heart a month ago because she met a Brazilian guy while translating manuscripts in India. We talked for hours about love, fate and decisions, and we walked to a Mezcaleria at Campeche Street to drink beer and Mezcal. Diego said that Mezcal heals the heart, so he had four shots. Arolinne and David -in their "it's complicated" relationship- joined us later while the boom box played "Melina". I love my friends. Victor is now sleeping while I'm writing still wet from the rain. Diego quit his job at the Mexican Federal Governmet Press and will be traveling to the Patagonia to piece himself back together. He will avoid Brazil; at least for now.