Sometimes swearing is necessary.  It’s how I convey great anger or importance.  But I’ve always felt that I’m not allowed to swear on this blog, since people who have me on facebook (possibly family members) read it.

I don’t like that. Feels like a trap.  Something holds me back from being sincere.  I care too much about what my family thinks of me.

Okay so maybe I just like to swear, regardless of any “great anger or importance”.  

Also I feel like I can’t talk about certain things that have happened in my past.

Sometimes the things I say become so vague it’s almost pointless to say them at all.

Like now for instance.

It bothers me that I never write poetry anymore.  Been reading some of my old stuff, and I can barely recognize the woman that wrote it.

Gah who the hell am I anymore?

Something from April 2014:

regardless of the length of the chain, strength of
the fence

I had to see if your dog was a biter.

there were warning signs in
my second language:

Teeth Filed, Regrown

No Snarl Until Hungry

on pain as a teacher:
avoiding scars is
skipping class.

My hands outstretched, ready
for the gold-star bruises

of perfect attendance

I think I’m  in an apathetic state that discourages poetry.  Also the above poem is … meh.  So I wasn’t that good at poetry when I was writing. Maybe it’s for the best.

I’m like, No, not really..

So in love with the nightlife in Santo Domingo.

Perfect mix of reggaeton, edm, 80’s jams and top hits.  Also, if I feel the need I can go find Salsa/Bachata/Merengue as well.

Everyone danced last night.  So. Much. Fun.

Until 4 AM.

Heard this song and went up to the closest dude singing along and made him tell me what it was.  Like I’ma be physically ill if I’m not able to  blast this song 30 times in a row when I wake up tomorrow.

Omi & Felix Jaehn – Cheerleader (Praia Del Sol and Renca Remix)

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esta caballero

Pin Pun – Lapiz Conciente
When I walk home.  Whoever is walking behind me.

Will always be able to tell when the bass kicks in.

DANNNG tonight, after all the dopamine from four hours of hardcore exercise, I was literally dancing my way home.  So happy.


What we speak
becomes the house
we live in.
Who will want
to sleep in your bed
if the roof leaks
right above it?

Fear is the

cheapest room
in the house,
I would like
to see you living
in better conditions.

There is only one reason

we have followed God
into this world:
to encourage laughter,
dance and love ….

God and I are rushing

from every corner of
needing to say
we are yours.

The sun never says

to the earth,
even after all this time
“you owe me”.

I once asked a bird

how is it that you
fly in this gravity
of darkness?
she responded,
love lifts me.

I should not make

any promises right now
but I know if you pray
somewhere in this world
something good
will happen.


mi amor

Soon begins my last week in Santo Domingo.

I want to stay, take my dancing to the next level…

They have a free dembow zembow (twerking essentials) lesson in the park (Plaza Guibia at 6:15ish) Monday-Friday, but I didn’t realize that till 2+ weeks in.


Half of my conversations are like this:  Them: Why did you come here?  Me:  In my city, it’s very cold, with no dancing.  So I leave whenever I have money.

(Only in Spanish)

Much of the cat-calling here is, “PSSSSST” PSSSST”, as if they’re trying to get your attention to tell you a secret.  Then if you ignore them they don’t usually pursue any further conversation.  But today I decided to respond to someone with “PSSST” as well.  We had a short chat in morse code until I was out of hearing range.

We went to some beach, near Las Salinas.  We went to a salt mine, where they extract it from the ocean.  Huge piles of salt laying everywhere.  Also sand dunes. Also beach.


 Virgin beach at the end, which means you can’t swim there.


Salt mines/factory.

 The pools are different colors based on whether the salt is ready to come out.  Unclear on when that is, because as always our nanny explains things in Spanish and sometimes I don’t catch it all.

MMMM. ocean.  With Prince Royce in the speakers.

Las Tres Ojos

Went to this National Park with my classmates.  It’s quite near Santo Domingo.  Basically there are three lagoons of different colors, and some of them more or less underground.  You can take a little ride on a raft to get through one of the caves. 

Apparently it used to be a holy spot for rituals but now (surprise!) it’s a tourist attraction woohoo.

te deseo oh oh oh

Are swiss people generally sort of standoffish / not really people persons, or did I just hit a rich vein of them here?

Hmm.  Holding off on that stereotype for now.

This song is now my theme song for the Dominican Republic.

Zion y Lennox Ft. Farruko Y Yandel – Pierdo La Cabeza

It’s a style of music called dembow

Also heard this gem while at the beach, (Spanish, not Dominican, but oh well)

Nach scratch – Te Quiero

A Martian Sends a Postcard Home – Craig Raine

Caxtons are mechanical birds with many wings
and some are treasured for their markings –

they cause the eyes to melt
or the body to shriek without pain.

I have never seen one fly, but
sometimes they perch on the hand.

Mist is when the sky is tired of flight
and rests its soft machine on ground:

then the world is dim and bookish
like engravings under tissue paper.

Rain is when the earth is television.
It has the property of making colours darker.

Model T is a room with the lock inside –
a key is turned to free the world

for movement, so quick there is a film
to watch for anything missed.

But time is tied to the wrist
or kept in a box, ticking with impatience.

In homes, a haunted apparatus sleeps,
that snores when you pick it up.

If the ghost cries, they carry it
to their lips and soothe it to sleep

with sounds. And yet, they wake it up
deliberately, by tickling with a finger.

Only the young are allowed to suffer
openly. Adults go to a punishment room

with water but nothing to eat.
They lock the door and suffer the noises

alone. No one is exempt
and everyone’s pain has a different smell.

At night, when all the colours die,
they hide in pairs

and read about themselves –
in colour, with their eyelids shut.

 (unclear what a caxton is… some kind of printing thing)


Love this.

2da semana

Whenever I go someplace new, the second week is always  better.  I’m still not always entirely comfortable and my Spanish isn’t that great, but things are getting better.  I decided I’ll do my last week in Sosua, because then I can have the beach right outside my apartment.

It’s important for me to have women friends around me because I just don’t trust Latino men (which I partly blame on Romeo “King of the Douches” Santos)

Case in point:

Pretty typical of his videos.  He just wants your girlfriend and he can have whatever he wants because he is the KING (of douches.)

Also this was the first song that played in my dance classes this week hahahaha.

Soooooo here you can see the “beach” that graces my front door.

 There’s a street in the colonial zone with a lot of this art. 

Good ways to celebrate Easter weekend… Have a festival where people can swim in blow-up pools and make a Jesus out of sand!  Also have a rock concert for Jesus in the night.  Seriously I’ve never seen a religious rock concert outside of youth group activities.  It was interesting.