Don’t run away from me ever
Is all I ask
Hard to find and impossible to resist
A sweet clumsiness and tender laugh
You keep me at bay
Afraid to allow for even a tinge of yourself to be shared
Promise that you will never hurt me
That the poison won’t find its victim
Only to fear the day that I become
Too much to handle or too little to care
Fear of love in this lust
Paving the way for regret and remorse
And the realization of feeling unwanted
The dark hour that no one should crave.

Santiago Roque

If only.

She asked me if it was sincere. If what I said was truthful. I lied and said yes. This is what I want, I lied again. She replayed our time back to me like I wasn’t aware of any of it. As if I wasn’t a key part of the complete mess that was happening to us. How I used to gently touch her arm or her lower back when we were nothing but acquaintances. My sublime way of looking straight at her, targeting her and as soon as our eyes met, a small grin just to pull her a little bit more. She wondered if this approach worked with everyone or was just with her. That first kiss. Did I know how long she wanted that first kiss? Was I aware of her state everytime we met casually? I couldn’t really answer. I was never one the focus on anyone else but me. How long did I want that kiss? Forever! How did I feel every time we met? It was like any moment that we weren’t in each other’s arms, that we weren’t whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears, was a complete waste of time. That was the truth but I wasn’t able to say it. I just looked at her and kept silent. She wasn’t happy but she wasn’t sad either. She looked like she was expecting this somehow. “I thought I was the one that was going to ruin you, but you outplayed me. It was always going to be like this,” she told me. She was wrong. She had ruined me. I wasn’t myself anymore. She had given me a glimpse of love, of affection and it was just too much for me to handle. Unattached was my way of life, a way to never lose. But she had ruined it for me. She slowly crept into my core, stuck herself deep and gradually started to make me come alive. And it was too much.

“This is over. I am being sincere. I am sorry but I just don’t feel the same.”

If only you knew. If only I could just say everything that I was holding back. If only…

Santiago Roque

Day 33.

He’s sitting across from me. If we were to have a place, this would be it. I’ve lost count how many times we’ve met here. I wonder, is this where he fell in love with me? I can’t recall ever being here without him in the picture. I mean, I’ve been here many times by myself but I don’t really know anymore what it is coming here without him. I guess he’s mad at something. He’s not his usual silly self. We say hi awkwardly but then again, is it ever not awkward? In all honesty, it pains me to see him like this but then it actually kind of amuses me. Don’t get me wrong, I take no joy in seeing him like this but I guess it’s sort of liberating seeing him struggle too. We try small talk but it doesn’t cut it. Not today. He asks me point blank, ”what now?” I have no idea. Silence.

Most times, he does the talking and I just sort of reply as the conversation flows but today he doesn’t seem quite himself. Are we breaking up? Can we break up? He did text me saying that maybe distance would be a good thing. The idiot! I am mad at him for that.

I have this playful thing that I do where I just stare at something and then as our eyes cross each others, I’ll just go ”yes?” waiting for him to say something. That usually gets the conversation flowing but not this time.

Finally, he starts talking. I say talking but I’m being too optimistic. He mumbles. He stops. No, he continues. It looks like he lost the ability to phrase things. Someone woke up on the retarded side of the bed today! He’s kinda cute though. Like, hella cute!

I hate that I like him. More than he deserves. I think I could just go back to what we were if he wanted. Maybe we will. He tells me I should be more selfish in some ways. Well, I don’t have it in me! I’m starting to dislike him just because.

As the food arrives, he looks over and tells me I’m being too ambitious if I think I can finish this plate. As if?! I’ll have you know I’ve eaten this before and finished it! But I don’t this time and now I have to endure his smugness. Oh, why? I hate him!

We talk for a while and I suppose we get on the same page. It looks like we do at least. As we go our separate ways, I fist bump him. He hates it but I do it nonetheless. You see, we’re not touchy at all. ”No?”, I ask. Reluctantly, he gives in. I go left, he goes right. I hide in my jacket as I walk to my car. I want to look back but I don’t. If I did, I would have seen him looking at me, just staring as I walked away.

He texted me halfway through the afternoon.

”So, still like me?”

Oh God, make me good but just not yet!

Santiago Roque


  • a person or thing whose presence or behavior is likely to put one at a disadvantage.

If I had a superpower, I’d probably be a liability enabler. Just roaming around, looking for people to put at a disadvantage. That’s me. I think.
Then people would be just fine pointing their finger at me, just like: “hey, it’s on him, that fucker enabled me!”. And it would be all fine. They could just lose it for a while with none of the guilt that comes with the experience of being a wild spirit. You know, just middle finger-ing life like we should, now and then.

I might be a bad influence. Perhaps. I can admit that. It’s actually kind of fun. People become more interesting this way. We all need that person that gives that last push for people to misbehave slightly and just act crazy if only just for a short while.

I rarely doubt myself. Even if I’m wrong or especially when I’m wrong. If it goes well, great if not, well, next time then. I feel others should think the same too. I mean, it’s all right playing it safe but do you really want to go through life like that? Life can be pretty exciting if you dare.

I’ve read this book about the antidote for chaos. I know, it doesn’t suit me, I enjoy organized chaos, but it is a surprisingly enjoyable read. I could quote most of the book as it is very good but I particularly enjoyed this one bit:

“You’re going to pay a price for everything you do and everything you don’t do. You don’t get to choose to not pay a price. You get to choose which poison you’re going to take. That’s it.”

That’s very accurate, I think. The price is set if you do or if you don’t do. You get to choose what you can live with. It’s almost poetic. These philosophers nowadays, they know their shit!

Along the way, you’ll meet people that will surprise you. But good surprise you. And then, you’ll have those that disappoint you. And for those, you’ll be nothing but a toy that they enjoy. For a while. But who cares?

Santiago Roque

Oh, it’s ambulatory!


*image may not represent actual reality.


What is the only upside of having a health issue? Is having one that can be fixed! If there is a solution, a simple one, everything should be fine. That’s what the doctor told me, that arrogant fuck. I don’t know what is with doctors, maybe this god-complex or whatever they call it but, in my experience, me and them, we do not get along. Maybe we have the same type of arrogance that clashes or maybe i just bring out the asshole in them. Either way, it isn’t easy.
I had an appointment a week ago and turns out, i need to have surgery done. I don’t like hospitals, i’ve said this before and the feeling hasn’t changed. I don’t like hospitals. So, i’m sitting there and the doc keeps talking, using terms that i have no idea what they mean but i keep shaking my head like i actually understand anything this God-given awful specimen planted in this hospital is saying. By now, a lady doctor has joined in and she does the talking while Doc Asshole looks me straight in the eye. I have no idea what he’s planning but i’m already shaken up just by being in this horrible place, he doesn’t need to stare me down to intimidate me, this fucking hospital does the job.
They throw words around like i am supposed to know what they fucking mean. I’m, like, 2 seconds away from having a mental breakdown because these horrible green walls keep getting closer and closer and this fucking ammonia-like smell in the air keeps stinging my eyes and now it seems like i am crying but i’m really not and it is just that i don’t really like hospitals and now lady doctor asks me if i need anything explained to me and yes lady, i do! How about you explain everything again but now in a language normal people understand? How about that? I am starting to dislike you too, lady doctor.
It is very simple really, nothing to worry about, Doc Asshole says. Man, fuck you! I’m gonna be asleep while you fucks literally just open me up and shit. You might sneeze while you operate and whatever and now i have your germs somewhere between my liver and kidney and for you fucks it is just another Thursday. So no, you’re wrong and i should worry. And then he says “ambulatory” like i’m supposed to fucking know what that means. Man, i don’t have this doctor lingo shit down. I have no idea what that means. Be specific, say whatever the fuck you mean, i’m getting stressed.
“Oh, we mean you’re able to get out on the same day. In and out, just like that” You sadistic fucks. I’m here about to jump the window behind me because i have this clear notion that this building is about to crush me and you keep saying shit like “ambulatory surgery” and “torsion repair” like everyone knows what the fuck it is supposed to mean, while all along you just had to say “listen, don’t stress it. in and out in a jiffy, very simple”.
Fuck you people, don’t you read my blog?! I HATE HOSPITALS !!!

Santiago Roque

A tale.

"As is a tale, so is a life: 
Not how long it is, but 
How good it is, 
Is what matters."

Losing someone you care for, that you admire, that you love, takes its toll on you. The perception of mortality becomes real. Not that you might have not known before but only then, i think, do you get the feeling that this will, someday, be nothing but a memory for others once you’re gone. Some say that someone is really only gone when the last person that loved them dies too. I find it to be beautifully sad and hopefully true.

I’ve had my share of losses in the past decade. I’ve never felt heartbreak as i did when my mother passed away. Only then, did i really got the point to this so-called living. It doesn’t really matter who you are, how you behave, what footstep you leave behind because there is nothing but randomness concerning life. There isn’t any reward for being this or that. There is no punishment either. There is only acceptance of the fact.

It takes us between 2 to 3 days to actually bury someone. And then, the only thing that really happens is sharing this deep sadness and regret. That is all it is. You’re sad because this wonderful person is gone and everyone else, packed with their best cliche’d one-liners, join in. And regret because only then it dawns on you that you will never ever be able to share a joke, a smile, a secret with this person. You’ll end up seating somewhere hearing people share all this stuff about your loved one like it is their business. You feel like punching everyone. But you dont because you’re an adult and you must behave as such.

This 2 to 3 days period should be used for remembering your loved one. You’ll have time for sadness and regret later, take my word on that. This period should be useful to say goodbye by remembering what made them so loved in the first place. Take joy in remembering all the good things you had together, every memory created, every step side by side. I wish i had done this. I wish i had focused on the good instead of being distracted by the uneventful parade of emptiness trying to tell me how good of a person she was or how hard she was going to be missed. Thank you, really. I wouldn’t have get it if you lot hadn’t told me repeatedly.

Don’t be like me. Don’t be bitter just because. Be remindful of everything good, everything great you’ve shared. It might not make you feel any better then but in the long run, you will be a better person for it. You will feel better for having had the opportunity to remember as the person deserved. Not that you can’t do it after. You can and you will. But you will have all the time in the world to mourn as you should later. Focus on the good things for now.

Santiago Roque

Hello ​2019.

Sometimes i forget that people still have the ability to suprise me. I try, sometimes real hard, not to judge them. Mostly, i succeed. No one should be able to judge anyone, you can gather an opinion, but you shouldn’t judge. Although i recognize the difficulty in it, i really try not to. But every now and then, i slip up and become too judgemental.

I got surprised today. By two different people. For two different reasons.

In the early hours of 2019, i fucked up. That is all i am at ease to disclose. I knew right then that i wasn’t being the best version of myself. You can promise all you want but if you’re not honest with yourself, you deserve a “fuck you”. I mean it, truly i do. 2019 will have to see the follow up to the reform of Santiago Roque. 2018 was just the kickstart.

I was surprised because someone was bold enough to lay it out for me. Bold not because i am above it all, but because it was out of character. This someone that seems so alienated from everything, so easygoing, so invisible to the daily absurdity of life and yet, aware of my mishaps. Well, thank you, really and fuck you too.

The other surprise was a book given by someone that i wasn’t expecting to do so. Not that this person isn’t generous or thoughtful. But because it was out of the blue, completely unexpected. We don’t have the type of relationship that we can give such gifts. So it came as a genuine surprise when i saw it! I appreciate the gesture, it was very nice and extremely thoughtful. I texted saying thank you for the loan but it is actually for me to keep. All the more special.

By day 2 out of 365, i already have fucked up and got pleasantly surprised by people. Balance couldn’t be more present in 2019.

A few things have happened because i write here. When i started writing, i did it as a form to express thoughts or anything actually that i wasn’t able to express by other means. Sometimes i write life as it happens, sometimes i express memories and sometimes i just let out my frustrations. I am having second thoughts about this whole idea, it was always meant to be anonymous but it seems it isnt. I need to rethink this.

Santiago Roque