Ai.. Ai.. I just realized that I overdrafted my bank account and there is really no particular reason for that to have happened, except that I totally forgot to keep an eye on my money. MONEY IS FUCKING IMPORTANT AND HERE I AM WASTING IT!

I am a bit miserable.

But its my own doing that has caused this.. I am overwhelmed by so many emotions, I feel stuck, and I feel unloved despite the wondeful expressions of love from my friends and family. It is that feeling of emptiness and void when one's head is in a billion different places.

I also feel lost and abandoned by the system, by not having internet access except for the one hour a day I can have at the local library, if its open on that day. And for having a prescription filled but only partly because my doctor wrote it so, and for having to use a ridiculous bus system that costs too much, takes too long, and doesn't go most places; for having to pay so much for things that should not cost this bloody much! If I feel like this, like the absolutely lonely soul that I am, then imagine those that really have less.

I wasted money, and I don't even have anything to prove that I enjoyed it.

How can a person move on when there is so much guilt to bury them alive?

How to have 'no regrets"?

I also miss my family very much.

But things will be fine. I will be fine, won't everyone?

Today is my last day of work. My last day with this life - life as I have known for a year.

How sad and crushed I feel. How overwhelmingly repentent. In my mind I feel like nothing will be different, I can weave my way in and out of this life, come back when I please, but that, that, is not true. Someone will replace me, and this gap that I leave will be quickly filled. They'll be a new HUC (health unit coordinator), a new buddy, a new friend, a new salsa partner, a new roomate.

By the time I come back the places in which I fit will have become the inpenetrable wall of insiders; I will have become an outsider.

And that is where I am now, bouncing from one life to another, in a perpetual state of outsider-ness. In a way that's what I seek, what I want for my life, to drift amist worlds.

But I am scared and tired and depressed, selfishly so. Why would my life matter when big struggles are taken place right now? The elections in Afghanistan, the murder of Iraquis, the fascims of the world, elections in the US, and the constant violation of human rights. How can I really sit here and 'enjoy' the sufferings of my life? How can anyone?

Ai.. how can the inner struggle matter if one does not fight for a bigger cause than one's own?

Others perceive Mexicans as “the-lazy-mañana-Indian-with-a-wide-straw-sombrero-sleeping-next-to-a-cactus,” as “the-wetback-running-to cross-the-border-to-become-one-more-in-the-14-million-Mexicans-count-living-in-the-USA,”or the “night-shift-hospital- cleaning-lady-in-Milwaukee,” or “a-dishwasher-in-an-Italian-restaurant-in-Manhattan,” “a-uniformed-maid-in-Sacramento” or
“another-exploited-worker-in-a-sweat-shop-in-some-hidden-town-of-Alabama.”
These are partial descriptions of the national identity of our brothers and sisters.
A better way to describe us is: The Taco.

The Taco symbolizes Mexico. The Taco is not merely a tortilla rolled up and stuffed with food, nor just a Mexican dish, or a Tacobellish fast food item.

The Real Taco is:
A way of eating prevalent since Prehispanic times
A nutritional and balanced dish adopted by the “Conquistadors”
Our national Identity
An extraordinary culinary surprise for the senses
A mystic experience that opens new channels of consciousness
An orgasm for any ethnic taste buds
A festival of smells and textures
A parade of rich colors
A symbol and subject for Writers and Composers,
Literati and Poets, Politician and Civilians
A way of life
A exciting double conundrum,
An insinuating, codified, erotic language
A way of flirting and laughing
A social activity

The taco stands only for Mexico, its people and the colors of its flag. The Real Taco is the national symbol of every Mexican around the globe. The taco unites poor and rich, middle classes and beggars, farmers and city-dwellers, there is no distinction when we eat tacos. We all submit to the rules. We all know how to do it. Taco-eating is a happy and emotional ritual full of laughter, obeyed and follow by everyone, without doubts, opinions or remorse.

The taco represents the hot, sharp, mixed, colorful, emotional, and strong spirit of Mexico and its people. All those who where born or raised in Mexico or abroad, even those who have only visited us, can hear the call of our national identity: the “Real Taco.”

Colectivo de ArtencontrArte/Art versus Art Collective artencontrate@artstar.com

My father wrote this. He and I collaborated on a project where he used a variety of mediums to convey graphically and visually the variety of tacos.. different foods, different ways of eating them, different locations, etc.

If anybody is interested in using this project let me know. =)