  Clang! My life is enclosed in a basement, I'm groggy, open my eyes to hear a clang. Its a thick heavy chain dragging across the concrete floor, making the dry sandy sound over the thick level of dust that can only mean one thing. Eventually I find that the other end rests on shackles around my wrists. Hard to realize and admit, but maybe just maybe I'm depressed. There seems to be an always-present black cloud that sucks all moisture from the air, and stifles me.
I'm apprehensive, nervous at times, and ultimately alone. Sometimes its so surreal. I play the old AM radio just to hear voices. Wednesday was my birthday, the centennial of Bloomsday. It of course began with me crying a little involuntarily as soon as I woke up. A feeling of going blind, systematically destroying every sense in my body came over me. I ended up enjoyed myself I guess, though thoughts of the former love found a way to creep back into my mind. I was actually expecting a nasty phone call, but nothing, nada. I wouldn't just say I'm only skin starved, although I am a bit lonely on a deep underlying level. Ended up keeping it simple, fish and chips, good amount of ale, spent time with my mother in a peaceful way, and of course my favorite, silence as golden as it gets. A quiet knowing developed in me, and I smiled at the possibilities afoot. The duck has returned to his previous home, there were tears and everything, but it didn't happen before one evening, when looking over him, I thought he dropped dead. He had a little pen that he waddled around. I would look in on him from time to time, and I just turned around, and he was on the floor, legs in the air, his neck twisted flat on the floor.
I tried picking him up, sprinkling water on him, finally he snapped out of it. Scared the shit out of me. There has to be some good, right? I feel safe laughing now. I'm not self made pathetic anymore. I still enjoy those Mets games, although I didn't want to go on my birthday, I had a feeling they would lose, as they did. Yesterday was Mike Piazza day, that was fun, they gave him a big yellow car with his name on the back, something he will probably NEVER drive in his life. Carlton Fisk and Pudge were there too, I think of Pudge as the Piazza who speaks Spanish. I'm working out more, as much as my back can tolerate. Sometimes the pain is so immense I can't walk. I'm actually ashamed at my lack of proper insurance, though that's being worked on. I could have lost the girl over it, but its her loss. I meditate regularly, and am on a plethora of dietary supplements. Magnesium and Selenium for eradication of Asthma (I'm not smoking anymore), your regular multivitamin, and now the required large amounts of Iron and Calcium in preparation of my back surgery. I'm also taking a cool oil blend tablet, that is cold pressed and provides what can best be described as "good" or "fitness" fat(s).
The confidence is returning, complements aren't taken with looking at the floor anymore. I'm not actively looking for "love" persay, but I'm certainly not afraid of women anymore. My skin has cleared up, and I'd be lying if there wasn't a "glow" now. Now that I'm at a normal weight, the child like skinniness has melted away, leaving a somewhat chiseled man underneath. I used to be very self conscious over being underweight most of my adolescent life. My cooking is better, I make more of a variety of things with greater care, although I prefer having a lady to do it for.
I'm a provider baby - as Pharell used to say. I saw this educational show on the family structure, and how little kids perception of their parents relationship changes but is so real and un-murdered when they are very young. I laughed at how beautiful it was when one of the little boys summed it all up with this: "I can't wait till I get in love, because I'll be by myself if I don't get in love" And last but not least folks, I'm returning to the mother land. Nic, awkward, outcast, lover and guy who doesn't speak a word of Spanish, will return to the land of my family after a long self imposed exile due to my parents own crazy situation and divorce, the place where my sister lived a good portion of her own life, Puerto Rico.
I am going to have shitloads of fun, and the pina coladas and vagina will flow like milk and honey. The beaches are gorgeous, the last time I was there I was 14 and stayed on some mountain somewhere. This time cars will be rented, tours will be taken, and although it will be after my birthday, I'm gonna sip Bacardi like it still was.
I'm going with a couple of friends of mine, one of them also went to Ireland with me, the other, someone who is also Puerto Rican but who also hasn't been there in a lot of years. I can't wait for the rainforest, the waterfalls are absolutely beautiful. I'm also going to where they invented the pina colada. Check out Arecibo, maybe some scuba diving. 
