Silicon Valley Night

"Silicon Valley Night" ripped from fcphoto's Flickr. Sorry...

We would get after work every night and those small intimate moments were unspoken connections and bonds. Exhaling green smoke and as it rose to the sky, it made the sky look like a beautiful watercolor painting. Hanging out and enjoying the crisp, cold, refreshing Silicon Valley night was almost dream-like.

I'm never going to forget moments such as those, the relaxation in where we cursed all the negative things in our lives with calmness and quiet enjoyment. Empire of the Sun would be making love to our ears, and oh did that sweet, sweet, sweet cigarette smoke throw so many obscenities and curses, the beers would bring my sexual excitement to an all time high.

Deanne around my arm and those delicious kisses that made every single endorphin shiver with lust. "Everything is dizzy. I'm not forgetful... quite the opposite, it's just that so many concepts are being thrown at me at once" I said, and she told me "Well, it's pretty impressive that you think about things like this so clearly. Not many people are like that."

Like a tattoo, the two years I spent in the San Jose area will never leave my soul. I'm in a much happier place, a location better suited for my desires and goals, but in retrospect those nights was truly were like walking in a dream.

Portland Calling

My attachment cannot be described in words, much less those on a computer monitor. The fangs of hate and piercing eyes of contempt that I have don't block your radiance from my sight, and I'm excited to call you one of my best friends.




There's no need to cry. "People never really leave us. They always leave a part of them behind." You told me that quote in a very unstable moment in my life, and as my departure is imminent I repeat it to you so you don't feel like you have really lost me.




Like a tattoo on a ribcage, or the back of an arm, imprisonment number stamped on a sleeve, or cuts from trauma engraved, it doesn't matter if it's love or hurt, memories of people stay with you forever, and I'm proud to say that you are a warm place.


Take care of yourself,

- Favenris

New Religion

She felt close enough to me to give me her favorite work of art.

I'm still speechless. I can't remember the last time someone actually gave me one of their creations, or even more, their favorite work. This is going to be a good person in my life.

Happy Motherfucker

I met Livia for the first time today and I already think she's one of the coolest pups around.




And also, I was given an amazing present:




I'm a happy motherfucker right now.

"Breathe, breathe in the air."

The Painter

She walks in slow steps and looks at everything with great analysis and caution. In her expression you can read her entire life story, and she doesn't shed a single tear.

It's hard to ignore her, or thoughts about her, when a pink veil of sweet scent is trailed around the place. In the rare occasions in where she opens up, it is a light of pink that swells up your heart with empathy and concern.

Her paintings are a mix of grotesque black and illuminating magenta. Humble, quiet, but nevertheless, beautiful works.

The painter, of which I am unworthy of. In these days, "of late it is hard to step outside," much less approach anybody that seems warm. You can see regret, disgust, and annoyance tattooed on my forehead like a large "L." Detoxify, ignore, forget, forgive, and relive from guilt are the wash I use to scrub this off, but my entitlements and obligations still take the best of me.

Her invitation into her home might cure this. Because if someone takes an interest in me, how much of an abusive monster can I possibly be, right?

A Warm Place