Con este tango que es burlón y compadrito,
se ató dos alas la ambición de mi suburbio.
Con este tango nació el tango y como un grito
salió del sórdido barrial buscando el cielo.
Conjuro extraño de un amor hecho cadencia
que abrió caminos sin más ley que su esperanza,
mezcla de rabia, de dolor, de fe, de ausencia
llorando en la inocencia de un ritmo juguetón.


i hate having feelings.


I just want to destroy everything.


I’m not happy.

I feel like I haven’t been happy in months.

All excitement is gone from me. And I’m fucking sick of this monotony. It’s so predictable and depressing.

I’m going to wake up in the morning before 9. My eyes are going to burn, and feel heavy, but I’ll be awake. I’ll check my phone and see a good morning that isn’t good enough for me. I’ll roll over, hoping to pass out for a few more minutes. But those few moments won’t help.

I’ll get up, eat my shitty breakfast alone and then think about what my day will be like. I’ll see my room in disarray; I’ll see dishes that need to be done; and laundry that needs to be cleaned.

The guitar that I just want to play for hours will stay unplayed, the drinks I want to get drunk off of will stay undrunk. And ill just move on to my bed outlining.

Outlining chapters of anatomy, chapters of physiology, chapters of cell bio, chapters of something until its time for me to meet up with a partner for a shitty Korean project.

Then I’ll do the Korean project. I’ll fake a laugh. Fake a smile. Fake a good time. Finish a shitty project. Waste hours doing so. Then go grab some food before I return to my kingdom. My kingdom of desolation.

I’ll mope. I’ll take a nap. I’ll give up and roll around. Then it’s back to the shitty outlines, til its too late to do anything but attempt sleep again.

Another day. Another night. 


im getting worse and worse. and i dont know what to do. 

"My father had taught me to be nice first, because you can always be mean later, but once you’ve been mean to someone, they won’t believe the nice anymore. So be nice, be nice, until it’s time to stop being nice, then destroy them."

— ― Laurell K. Hamilton (via psych-quotes)

(via tinytigress)



Slimmin season


(Source: caizinho)


Stony Brook sucks. I have spent too many nights sitting in a plastic chair that was clearly made with no considerations of the human body. Too many nights were spent listening recordings to professors harp on about their area of expertise and why we need to take extra care in their course. Too many nights were burning words into my cornea from a textbook that cost entire paychecks.

So I always have headphones for the morning.

On good days, where there isn’t an opposing wind to push me back, or a bitter cold biting my bones, it’s a fifteen-minute walk to class. Fifteen minutes isn’t a long time, but it is about five songs worth of music. Five song’s worth of music that helps me leave this campus and escape into my own world—a world where I can get acquainted with the dreams I did not meet the night prior. 



American Cut bar manager Nick Nistico shows how to make a Smoked Old Fashioned. Read more about the cocktail here.  


people and art