a white van

sometimes you live in a city that you weren’t born into
sometimes you feel completely grounded to a place
(a city or a house or even a little space)
and you feel is completely where you belong

that was me many years ago in divinely crazy mexico city
i swore i would never move out of its traffic
its pollution and over 500 years of historical bonds

i was a fish in the water in the wild subway metro
and drove all around the city fast
and knew every corner by heart

yet one day i left
and regardless of chance, coincidences
and plenty of metaphors
i ended up living in san diego

i wasn’t meant/supposed to be here
i was on my way to san francisco when i first stopped
i was never too attracted to the southern californian vibe
i remember the friend kurt aka nowork comment to me
at a sandiegan well-known record store
bere, i don’t picture you here in san diego
a beach town
i thought of you more in boston
or some big city with history like that

yet
fortuna chances and some twisted faiths
i am here in san diego
and after 5 years it finally starts feeling like home

and again i remember what my friend helmut
an over 70 year-old german man living in
minneapolis for the past 60 years told me
when i just arrived here fresh from mexico city:
san diego, bere, is somehow looking after you
since i found immediately a little studio
a creative-director job
and got a little car that today i finally own

i was still on my way to somewhere else
i have been on my way to somewhere else all these 5 years
i was settled but not convinced or aware of
what’s really going on
as usually happens with me
with many situations in my little life
a slow learner have always been/will be

today i woke up and strangely and even if sad but san diego felt home
not because i have embraced the southern california style of a life
or because i am too lazy and even if overprized is easy living here

actually i think i realized it was home for the very first time
when just a couple of weeks ago
while crossing very distracted a street by my house
in lovely neighborhood of normal heights
i was almost run over by a white van

ironically enough the white van had printed a logo
paradise valley hospital
national city california
that place! that hospital!
it is were i was actually born!!

no matter how attached i am and will always be to
mexico city its landscapes its turbulences
its art
i was born in national city san diego county
and fortuna brought me back
so fortunately enough an intriguing reminder
with a fast van came at
you were born in this city
is that a cause enough?
if not, remember you life can be taken
in case of not enough joy and if don't appreciate it at all

it was frightening not ‘cause i am actually
afraid of death since i am not
i am just afraid of leaving without having
told people how important they are
and how special life is
and how fragile

today happily except for a couple of replies
that i owe
like to beto, and ina, and tanya
i have the rest told about their art
and importance and all

in case a white van from national city
comes to haunt me down again
and i also i told my mom how much i love her
and to remind of that to my dad too
since even if apart they can contact each other better than i do
i even left some stuff here bloging wrote down!

how convenient all this is

i have not intentions to die
but peace comes to my heart
so from here to eternity i owe to nobody nothing
not even a dime!
(well of course not counting the credit cards or stuff like that)

and freedom flushes through my veins
and i realized that paradoxically and
without a single draft or a careful plan:

i am living again in the city that i was born in
i came back 30 years later or so…
i hope that is enough of a good reason
or for me
a reasonable cause

we shall see we shall know