Post by alexander jay garcía torres on Sept 12, 2012 22:04:20 GMT
alexander jay garcía torres
AIR SPRITE. JAY. TWENTY ONE. MUSICIAN. RYAN ROSS.
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BLUU. AROUND SEVEN. SKYPE (PM TO ASK).
AIR SPRITE. JAY. TWENTY ONE. MUSICIAN. RYAN ROSS.
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Tempus fugit. El tiempo vuela. Time flies.
After turning fifteen, more or less, those were the words I lived by. I guess I had a sort of epiphany one day in class as I stared mindlessly at the teacher, his droned words falling yet again on unlistening ears. What was I doing with my life? What was I going to do? Sit here, class after class, pretending to soak in knowledge which I knew I'd forget mere hours after any exam? I wanted to see the world, meet people, experience everything and live off my acoustic.
So I managed to finish high school and I even gave college a try just to please my parents. I think I lasted... a month? I think a month's even pushing it. I've never been one to put my nose to the books. That was a disappointment for my parents. They thought they'd raised me so well, that I was their "little boy" and that I was going to go on to do great things. Not high-tail it out of the family home one day, clutching my guitar in one hand and my boyfriend in another. Yes, boyfriend. You should've seen their faces. They were absolutely priceless.
But Jóse didn't last very long. My partners never really do. They come and go quite frequently actually, rarely earning themselves the title of "boyfriend", to be honest. I'm sorry. I'm quite the libertine.So not sorry. They're never really able to keep up with my lifestyle anyway. Most of them don't seem too keen on the idea of dropping everything to follow me on my travels, or living off what we'd earn busking in shopping centres, busy street corners and bus, train, metro stations.
That's what I do to sustain myself: busk. Playing guitar, singing and writing are what I do best so why not? Most of the money I earn goes to petrol for my camper van (she's a beautiful cherry, red colour), clothes, sweets and, of course, alcohol. I usually go for the tequila. But, bear in mind, I never drink and drive. I can get up to all sorts of shit but never that. Never. I don't even smoke or text once I'm at the wheel. Car crashes are a thing of my nightmares, y'see, having had a pretty bad one just one month into my little roadtrip. I'd been a bit buzzed on something and I had maybe drank a couple of beers a few hours before but I swear that it wasn't my fault. But if I'd been more alert, I would've been able to have avoided it.
Its a bit of a lonely life on the road. But, to be completely truthful, I wouldn't have it any other way. I love to have company though and I'm the type that'd pick up a hitch-hiker in my camper just to have a decent conversation for the next few miles. Other than that, its just me and my cat, Tootie. I love cats. Without her I'd probably go insane. I'm a bit of a chatterbox.Yes. I talk to my cat, problem?
So. Long story short. Call me Alex, Jay, Jaybird, whatever. Nice things, please. I'm twenty one just turned and I'm currently hanging about this sweet little town. I've got no one to tie me down, just everything to live for. Buy me sweets and I'll be your friend forever. Like music and I probably will be too. Don't make me watch horror movies, push me out into the dark alone at night or do anything considered "scary".I'm a scaredy-sprite. Another reason why I'd go insane without Tootie. Do you know how fucking scary it is breaking down in the middle of nowhere on a pitch black night? I need something to hug to death while I wait for the tow truck.
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BLUU. AROUND SEVEN. SKYPE (PM TO ASK).