Sounds Like Crazy

It sounds like I’m crazy
When I think of no one else but you
It sounds so strange
When I see my future in you


But I’ve got to hold on to my thoughts
For they seem to escape me
And this dreaming and wishing
Only gets me so far.

-JC

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

When you’re little the world is full of curiosity.

I remember feeling that wonder and amazement, I remember believing in Santa and getting excited about Santa taking time out of his ever-so-busy schedule to show up at our yearly Christmas Eve parties for my family. It was exciting for me and still to this day fills me all the warm and squishy feels. And I think that is perhaps what keeps me from being a complete Grinch on Christmas. Christmas changes when you’re an adult and no longer have children constantly around.It’s filled with less wonder and admiration. It’s filled with less belief and magic. I miss that.

I recall late one evening my grandparents were driving us back to my home after the party and I was leaning my head against the car door starring out at the sky. I remember specifically that it was a clear night, but chilly. I could see my breath on the window pane as I breathed in and out. And I recall getting excited because I saw something bright shoot across the sky and I can’t remember if it was my grandmother or my grandfather who said this, but someone told me it was Santa delivering presents. The idea of this excited me so much and to this day, if I see a shooting star in the cold December nights on Christmas Eve I think to myself, there goes Santa.

The relevance of why that shooting star was important on that night was because when we got home, my mom had wrapped herself in a box and we got to open that gift when we got home. She told us that Santa had just left and he wrapped her up for us. I don’t recall why she did it because it wasn’t like we hadn’t seen her in a long time. This wasn’t the case of her being in the service and gone for a long while, she just did it. And even still it was thrilling for me.

My heart tries to be harder than it is, but not everything about my childhood was terrible and it’s memories like this that help me create the idea of the kind of parent I’d like to be. I will tell my kids that that light across the sky was Santa delivering presents.

Mile High

Some how this got deleted and I wanted it here. So, I'm re posting.

Mile High

My heart breaks every time I see your face
I am reminded of the bareness that has
taken over in the cavity of my stomach.
It’s not that I want you; it’s that I need it.
I must feel this warmth and taste
sweet words on your lips.
But these honeyed verses are not meant for me,
They are designed for another.
And your lips are not meant,
to be so close to mine.

- JC

Don't just stand there, say nice things to me

Sometimes I feel like perhaps the world is fucking with me. Like seriously fucking with me. But then I remember that the world does not in fact revolve around me despite my thoughts on the contrary.

Here's a picture of a tree I took while at a rest stop somewhere in Michigan.

Also, This is the song that's captivated my heart for the moment.

Black velvet with that slow southern style

I have always loved coming back to the place where my mother grew up. It gave me a sense of peace and connection.

Specifically I enjoy driving random roads and imagining that my mother once drove down these roads. I think about what life must have been like for her when she was a teenager and where she must have gone. I drive by specific places that have been land marked in stories and pointed out and I can see her face. I can hear her laugh, but then I also see her pain. I feel it.

I try to think how drastically things have changed in the ways that every time I visit Tucson, something has been built up, added or destroyed. Or perhaps the only change is that the shops now house things with a Spanish and Mexican flair.

I just know that when I’m here, I don’t feel so rejected or alone. I feel… home.