writing
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“Tap, Tap, Drip, Drip”
A rainy night, a cough that won’t quit, a doctor who told me my liver sucks — and still, I sit here writing. I guess some nights the only medicine I have is the sound of rain and the words I put down. Continue reading
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“If Rest Didn’t Exist, This Is How I’d Use My Time”
Without sleep slowing me down, I’d dive deeper into writing, drawing, learning, and building the version of myself I know is in there somewhere. Continue reading
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“Ladies, lower your voices.”
Coughing at 2 a.m., rain tapping the roof like impatient fingers, two small sales, and a Wes Anderson film ending my night in my little Camelot in South Central. Continue reading
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“Fear or rain”
📓 Saturday, November 15, 2025 — 8:05 a.m. My dad makes me laugh. He’s terrified of the rain. He tells me, “Está lloviendo fuerte… don’t go out, don’t get wet. We’ll go sell somewhere later.” And I’m standing there like, “Bro, why would I just clean up to sit here and do nothing?” He goes,… Continue reading
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“Transmission”
📓 Saturday, November 8, 2025 — 7:54 p.m. I am again attempting the act of writing. My left index finger is bandaged — I put a bandaid that’s now ragged from moving cases of plastic bags through L.A. Trying to move my bags of cases with my van parked on the street, I pierced my… Continue reading
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“The Midnight Ice Cream Truck.”
Grand Theft Auto 3, East L.A., and a neighbor’s “ride” that didn’t need a key. Back in 2001–2002, I was an usher at Dodger Stadium. One of my coworkers, Arturo—Art—became my boy. Looked like a cholo (shaved head, mustache, heavyset) but he wasn’t; chill, funny, good dude. After late games I’d drive him home to… Continue reading
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The Boy Who Doesn’t Belong 🥷 — A Hood Chronicle
Another day, another puff of this cig — little swirls of smoke gliding between my fingers. Here in South Central I sit, on the curb, seeing. Today’s story is that of a young man, twenty-two years of age, soon to be twenty-three — a young man caught between two worlds. We’ll call him V —… Continue reading
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“The Night I Walked in on Cheeks I Shouldn’t Have Seen.”
It’s strange how the small things — a sound, a scent, a shadow — can turn into memory’s echo. Back when I was working as a houseman at a hotel in Beverly Hills, I saw a lot of wild things. But nothing — and I mean nothing — prepared me for the night I accidentally walked in… Continue reading
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“The Day Brad Pitt Almost Ran Me Over”
The most famous person I’ve ever met? Brad Pitt. Back when I used to work at a hotel in Beverly Hills, I ran into him a few times—but the first time was unforgettable. It was early afternoon, maybe around one o’clock. I was hauling furniture near the parking lot, pushing a heavy cart back up… Continue reading
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The Meow Holiday
Invent a holiday! Explain how and why everyone should celebrate. If I could invent a holiday, it’d be called Meow Day. It’s inspired by my cat, Simba — a little orange furball who used to suffer from depression because he was always locked up inside. So, I bought him a harness — green with constellations… Continue reading