Bucho

i'm a writer, a musician, a poet, a lover...i am fiercely passionate about anything i involve myself in and i'm a big fan of the sensual aspects of life, whether it be waking up next to someone and spending the entire day with them in bed or smokin' a spliff to the view of a sunset. i like roadtrips that happen randomly and i'm an avid reader. i'm most passionate about writing, my music, top shelf bourbon and intelligent women.
i watch youtube clips of def poetry jam when i'm in a bad mood. i like having the hair on the back of neck stand up at hearing someone spout off some fire-ass poetry that speaks to me. i like epic music that makes your face hurt from smiling so hard. a clever twist of phrase will always get my attention, while cliches make me want to walk the fuck away. long conversations over drinks, heady conversations over joints, and concerts are my favorite past-times, second only to writing and performing. a certain amount of nonsense is acceptable...i am a writer, after all. i dabble in the art of bullshit and storytelling, but i get enough of that from my imagination. real people with real aspirations and real things to say need apply within.
i'm a pervert and a gentleman at the same time, but i find intelligence and creativity far sexier than any form of tanning and make up combo. having an opinion is good...being opinionated is boring and uninteresting. money does not excite me, nor do nice things unless they're essential for my creativity to thrive. i like to spoil, but now that i'm a full time student, i'm pretty much broke all the time.
i'm in a perpetual state of protesting capitalization. "I" is never more important than "we" and "we" are never more important than while in the immediate moment. i wear the clothing of many walks of life, but i've been focused on only one path for the last 4 years. you'll know me best by analyzing my writing as it seems there is a tiny (or obvious) part of me in every piece, every character, every syllable. i have scribed some 200+ pieces of decent poetry, 130 pieces of flash fiction, and 210 pages of my first book (as of 10/12/08) and i am nowhere close to scraping out the last of my subconscious for you to examine.
i used to be a barfly, but now i find myself enjoying the solitude of a good book or thought-provoking movie as opposed to getting shit-housed in a bar full of halitosis-prone drunkards and idiots with unnecessary alcoholic rage trying to one-up their friends in the systematic genocide of braincells. i still enjoy a drink here and again, but i prefer it in the company of conversation, not jukeboxes and overloud speaker systems.
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