“No man can possibly know what life means, what the world means, what anything means, until he has a child and loves it.” –Lafcadio Hearn

Only now do I seem to understand a few things I’ve been told throughout my existence. Cliche after cliche and it all seemed so over the top unreal that I simply nodded and said “hm yeah I see”.

My mother, already in her dying bed, told me that she wasn’t afraid to die for she would never let go of her greatest love: her children. She told me that no other feeling even comes close to what she ever felt for any of us. She would be ours to keep forever and we would always be her greatest achievement and only true pride. I found it beautiful to hear and heartbreaking as well. To imagine that we, her sons and daughter, were her peak of joy crushed me a little bit because we grew, became adults and had our life and issues and she had lost that connection. The chord was cut.

I was wrong. Very wrong. My mother achieved what everyone seeks: immortality. She had raised 3 tiny humans to become more or less competent adults. With our faults, mistakes and failures we were still her pride and joy. The sentiment is too big to be overshadowed by life’s hiccups. She loved us and meant it. Everyday. She lives in me, in my sister and brother. She wasn’t afraid to die, she was afraid we would feel less complete. She was right. But she also knew that with time we would understand that.

My mother was my greatest love. She still is. But now she shares the spot with a tiny human of my own. Now I know what she tried to explain, what she meant with those words. I have my opportunity of reaching immortality as well. I don’t seek perfection, that is out of my reach. I seek to be the best version I possibly can when time calls. So my tiny human grows into a man. Not a perfect one but a proud one. Proud of his daddy for everything was done with him in mind.

Whenever I hold him in my arms, it’s two of us holding him. Every kiss, every gentle touch, every look we take at each other, is shared with her. My mother is immortal, it just took me a while to understand it.

All my love,


This is water.

“There are these two young fish swimming along, and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says, “Morning, boys. How’s the water?” And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes, “What the hell is water?””

The point of the fish story is merely that the most obvious, important realities are often the ones that are hardest to see and talk about. The fact is that in the day to day trenches of adult existence, banal platitudes can have a life or death importance.

David Foster Wallace said those words. He also famously said that:

“If your total freedom of choice regarding what to think about seems too obvious to waste time discussing, I’d ask you to think about fish and water, and to bracket for just a few minutes your skepticism about the value of the totally obvious.”

David Foster Wallace didn’t make it. He never gave up, he just never had the helping hand a visionary needs.

We often must be remind that our reality is commonly the hardest thing to acknowledge and talk about. 

It is quite easy to be tall when you’re standing above everyone else. It is not heroic nor honorable. The challenge is to be reminded that our reality should not be dictated by what we see but by what we don’t. 

Be less certain of things you see and more about what you don’t see. The perception is ours to have, the decision is ours to keep.

Just know, this is water.

Today is ours, tomorrow who knows?

Santiago Roque

Cause and effect.

I’m at my lowest point in the last three years. I’ve been feeling it for a while now, I just hoped it would eventually fade out. It hasn’t. It seems to get worse. And I don’t seem to be able to control any part of it. I feel like my soul is detaching from my body, as crazy as that sounds. The ones that notice it slightly and ask, i point towards the obvious, the birth of my first-born. But it is not that. If anything, that carries me through the day but it works as faint excuse for being absentee when i’m with others. I keep drifting in my head and i try to go back and just pinpoint where it all began and i can’t fucking do it. I am crying as i write this right now.

I can’t have a serious talk with my wife because I feel like crashing and i hold it in. I run away from interaction with my sister just because she would take a proper look and fucking know. I have been worried about her but everything came back perfect so that’s not it too. But I knew. I have mood swings, I care about you and then I don’t. I want you to talk to me but then I don’t. I want you to carry on with your life but then I don’t. I miss you but then I don’t and I love you but then I don’t.

So I had to go back to my fav doc, that bastard. I didn’t count but it took all of 10 mins to lay it out to me. Happy pills which I won’t be taking because I don’t want to. I feel like not caring at all. I eat because I must and I loved eating. I cried the other day because It dawned on me that, at that precise moment, I was at my happiest place in a long time and yet, I couldn’t feel the least happy. I felt horrible. I am horrible. Perfection around me and still, numb as a rock. And i want to tell but i couldnt say it.

I am burning out. Thats the term. I am burned out.

I can barely look those I love in the eye because I feel ill breakdown. At work, it feels pretty similar. Even the ones I like im starting to dislike. And I know it isn’t their fault but I can’t help it. My sweetest friend got me a while a ago. She said I was giving up on her, on us. That I looked, felt and acted less me. She got it half right. Its towards everyone, not just her.

I took up some drumming classes just to have fresh air in my life. For all the noise I make, I can’t seem to drown these feelings when Im there. I feel like nothing.

I had let this whole blog thing die out but I came back to it. They tell me that putting feelings onto paper helps. I hoping so.

For you, the two people that read me:

I love you but it doesn’t feel like that right now. I am sorry.

Give me a while, ill be coming back, I know it.

Nice to know you.

DJ, drop a Dre beat for a Eminem flow, if ya please

 Hey kids, wanna grow up
To be just like me?
Have a girl, a chick
And still act humbly
Yeah, that might sound like the shit and all
But in the end is just an ego-trip from big to small
Setting it right,
Imma about to complain
Take you on a tour on how to disguise this pain

My girl just called, saying she got a new crush
I'm like “wtf baby, you turning down my touch?”
“Oh no, not like that,
You must understand
This guy be like,
A whole 9, close to a motherfucking 10!”
Shit, I can’t compete girl,
You gotta me there 
See you on the run,
imma be here, hiding the despair
“Things aint gotta change, hope things stay the same”
Yeah right, you had me at the top,
Now im lowballing at the end
Its ok, ill see you around,
Maybe once, maybe twice
Might even fool you,
Act all cool, slick and nice
Dont mind us, is fine, we’ll get along
Ill quote you those lyrics you posted from that song
“Wisdom’s a gift but you’d trade it for youth
Age is an honor, but it’s still not the truth”

On and on it goes,
They hit me up like clockwork
But fuck it, im gone,
About to jump from the rooftop
This one tells me she’s been dreaming about her and me
Hold up girl, stop right there,
Not again, that just can’t be
But im curious, I must pursue, tell me what did we do
“Oh, you know, we got all cute and x-rated too!”
Man, I stay away,
But im cool, its all in good fun
Gotta keep the ratio, all smooth,
Ego pumpin’ and then some!
Waking up is shit, im all smiles but no truth
She walks by, “how are ya? You look fine, you look good!”
Oh thanks, I appreciate it, looking good yourself
Feel like you might jump me once,
High quality, top shelf
"Hey look, check it,
My boyfriend got me a new ring",
Looking flashy, all fresh with that brand new bling
Thats nice, I say, congrats, you got it good,
“Thanks, but I can’t take it off if you ever in the mood”
Color me surprised, that hit me hard like a rock
“Thats right boy, holla at me and
You’d me begging me to never stop”

Walking around, puffed chest, ready to complain
Choosing heads, pointing fingers
But im the one to blame
You see, I told you once,
You see me through a different light
I am who I am,
Not different, not great, not even nice
But I wear this crown and I wear it down
Sea of emotions,
All swept, got me drown.
But don’t feel bad for me,
No need to worry
Chapters closed,
All read up, end of story
But in case you forget,
Lemme tell you what’s up
Nice to meet you
You know who I am,
I'm cool as shit, hot as fuck.


Back when I was younger, I often thought how cool it would be if I could just take a peek at my life in 15/20 years time. What would I see? Would I have changed much or not at all? Would I have a girlfriend, would I be married, would I have any kids?

Going forward 15/20 years in time, 16 year old me would be pretty fucking surprised if he would have a sneak peek at our life today.

Let’s say he would inhabit my body at this very moment: he’d see he was on his way to some place. Business or pleasure? He’d know its pleasure, the vibe doesn’t let you guess wrong.

He’d look over and see a woman. I say woman but she still keeps her girlish ways. She turns her face towards us. “Oh, shit, after all these years?!”, he would probably think. Well, kind of.

She has this olive shade kind of skin. Not a brunette but not really a pale skin either. She wears blond like a hand wears a glove: a tight fit. She smiles at me, at us. The phone in her hand seems a extension of her, that’s how much she keeps staring at it.

“What you listening to right now?” She asks. Present time-me would say the truth but 16 year old me is too embarrassed to say that, right now, there is a sort of pop-ish sound blasting in my earphones. “Deftones”, my current body tenant replies. Trying to be cool, are we?

“Woah, throwback bro!” She replies. My 16 year old self is taken aback. “Bro? Did she “bro-d” me just now?!”. That’s right, let that sink in.

My hands feel like a foreign object: were they always this big?, 16 year old me wonders. There is also a ring. “Married?” Yes, I’m married. Shock, I know.

He takes a peak at her hands: a few rings but none looks like a wedding ring. Yeah, dodged that bullet, buddy.

Teenage-me feels a bit disappointed by my wearing Levi’s and not Carhartt’s. “So tight!”. No, my young and baggy pants wearing self. Comfort and durability at this age.

I inadvertently take my hands to my face, as if Ive lost my sight and am trying to guess who I am. Weird, but I’ll let slide. My young self is perplexed. “No piercings?” He goes for the earlobes. “No earrings too?” Well, we outgrew that phase. “Damn it, i always thought I’d have my piercings forever.” That thought didn’t age well.

I feel my upper body. I flex my arm. “Am I a gym rat now?” We are getting back to it, but yes, we sort of are.

I catch a glimpse of my reflection on the window. “Shit, shit! Is my beard gray? Am I that old?” We’re older, sure. Count your blessings, you’re aging as you should. Maybe just cherish your hairline while you can.

I don’t know if 16 year old me would like me right now. I don’t remember what I envisioned for me then but all in all, we got it good.

Love and be loved, young self. And take your time.

Santiago Roque

It’s been three years.

I wonder if in whatever realm you may find yourself do you think about me? Do I hold a special place within you?
I miss you.
Just like a flower missing the sun, this existence is lacking in many ways.

It’s been three years.
I wonder, am I the one that hurts the most or is anyone else just better at hiding it?
Do you miss me?

It’s been three years.
I wish I could see you just once more and tell you that I love you.
That I apologize for never being the best version of myself.
Would you love me just the same?

It’s been three years.
There is nothing better than dreaming about you.
It is also the saddest feeling waking up after.
There is this hole in my chest that I can’t seem to make whole again.

It’s been three years.
And it feels like it was only yesterday.

I ache for you.
I miss you.

Who am I? Someone that’s afraid to let go.

I love you.


Yesterday I died but came alive today. Thankfully. I got drunk off my mind, unexpectedly. I got home about 5-ish pretty cheerful. I had a family event of some sorts and drank the night away. I also met my father’s new girlfriend (ladyfriend, he insists) which was meh. I have no opinion although she tried to charm her way to me. She told me I looked a lot like my father, I replied that was because she’d never met my mother. Obviously, given the circumstances.

It was supposed to be just dinner and maybe a glass or so. I hadn’t seen my brother for a week, we hadn’t talked either so as I was about to leave he asked me to stick around. I said I wasn’t feeling it but then my wife told me that he might want to talk about something so I should consider staying a bit longer. I did. Turns out he just needed a drinking buddy. And drinking we did!

We drank a bit there but then just before things got blurry, we chose to go somewhere else. Sober-me usually says more inappropriate things than appropriate things. Drunk-me is just savage and unapologetic. I didn’t want to share the same space with my father and his new friend (?) just in case I couldn’t shut up. My brother as well so we left.

Also, drunk-me doesn’t send the best texts either. So, I just decided not to text. At all. Again, I say shit that sets out a very awkward atmosphere when drunk (mostly when drunk but sober-me is pretty good at it too) so, in order to save face the next day, I laid the phone aside and just enjoyed the flow of alcohol. I did warn my texts recipient before, I hate being the type of person that just ignores someone else by not replying. Ironically, I was ignored. Not a first a time either, so I’m getting used to it.

But waking up today was a bitch. I remember everything otherwise I would have thought someone had beat the shit out of me. No bruises though. I feel like my man Jesus, it takes me a full three days to show myself again. I’m still trying to learn that whole “turning water into wine” party trick. That would be mighty fine. And cheaper too.

Anyway, liquids are my best friends right now. Alcohol-free, however. I had my fair share yesterday.

Santiago Roque