š²š½ Centro Nacional de Las Artes - 04.19.2026
And there I amā¦ watching a French film, with Spanish subtitles, sitting next to Sandra de Xochimilco from Mexican immigrationā¦ and nothing seems strange to me.
Iāve been to Cineteca Nacional de Mexico in CoyoacĆ”n many timesā¦ but not to Cineteca de las Artes in Churobuscoā¦ or the Chapultepec location (which sits below the CableBus I enjoy).
I sat at home resting on Saturdayā¦ I think I had plans with Lauā¦ but I donāt invest much energy into tracking her down. The 30-somethings here are a breed of their ownā¦ they go in the direction of the best offer of the day, the better party, or the dude that has concert tickets, or the guy with cigarettesā¦ and theyāll tell you, āte quiero,ā as you walk out the front door, while having another dude walk in the back door right behind you. Sheās 39 and fits the mold of her generationā¦ and I donāt have enough energy at the moment to continue to chase 30 somethings around planet Mexico. šāāļøāā”ļøš²š½šš½šµ
Plus, I think I have low levels of serotonin and oxytocinā¦ and wasnāt feeling much emotion or desireā¦ and I really donāt careā¦ and because thatās the game we play hereā¦ I keep my back door open.
Iāve been trying to hit places Iāve never been to, in and around CDMX, before I head to the U.S. in May. When I pause for a momentā¦ I do understandā¦ that those places are not going anywhereā¦ and they will be waiting for me when I return. But I like adventureā¦ so I want to squeeze in as much as I can.
In a complex equationā¦ there are many people I want to spend time withā¦ seeā¦ talkā¦ hugā¦ feelā¦ bondā¦ say alohaā¦ etcā¦ but Iām also being reserved about investing emotionally. For myself, for themā¦ for usā¦ for the futureā¦ for this momentā¦ is that sabotage? Or healthy boundaries?
As I roll around thoughts in my headā¦ I keep thinking of 2 peopleā¦ one makes me so angry, and Iāll likely never get any resolveā¦ and the other is an artist I met when I first landed in CDMX two years ago. And why those two? because they fall into the category of, āchasing an idea.ā An ideal. A romantic ideal. An unrealistic realityā¦ that can never be. But in the mindā¦ it could be. And on paperā¦ with the facts before youā¦ never. Only in a dream.
As I reflected on the rumination of the past events in a current state of being in the bubble of my apartment on this chilly Saturdayā¦ one of my manifestations came to fruition. I received a message from Mar de San Angel, the artist I met 2 years ago, and had been claiming in my mind that she is the one person that could hold my attentions to remain in CDMX. She asked me to escort her on Sunday to the Sistema Nacional de Creadores de Arte in Chapultepec. Thereās an event that she has a painting entered.
And thereās the idealā¦ if I could write a script for my perfect dateā¦ or person. An intelligent, passionate, energetic, fit, conscious, mature, curious, cool, stylish, worldly, creativeā¦ born in my generationā¦ emotionally availableā¦ super attractive womanā¦ and we go out and do cool things. The ideal. And I am finding I am, āchasing the ideaā in my mind. Which has caused problems in the past.
As I process without much emotion this morningā¦ reality is at the front. When we first had metā¦ it was only short time before her mood changed (to apprehension and annoyance) and then she quickly dropped me off at the flower market at midnight, and it took an hour for me to walk back to Santa Catarina from thereā¦ later with long text messages about love and loss. And it ended in a last message from her, āgood luck!ā
And several months laterā¦ we had contact again. She wanted me to come over and help her delete her Tinder accountā¦ and I say, āsure, Iām busy tonight but I am free the rest of the weekend.ā And again, an immediate final message from her, āgood luck!ā
I guess sheās a āyou are all inā¦ right nowā¦ or you are out,ā type of person. It repeated another timeā¦ and stillā¦ in my mind of āchasing an idea.ā I believeā¦ or want to believe we have unfinished business. The possibility of a romantic ideal. Soā¦ I have been holding space for that.
And becauseā¦ apparentlyā¦ in this universe, life is a cruel cosmic jokeā¦ I already had plans for Sunday that I didnāt want to breakā¦ but I was sure that when I declined the invitationā¦ I would get a final, āgood luck!ā responseā¦ and the romantic dream dies again for another six months to a year.
And the one other person in my thoughtsā¦ that I have nothing but anger and disdain for at this time. On my side of the fence; it was about me āchasing an idea.ā A possibility of a romantic ideal. The reality wasā¦ she is 20 years younger, and outside of my preferred dating range, has young children, student, lives in another town, has substance abuse issues, mental health conditions, impulsive behaviors, and no empathy ā And meā¦ Iām old and have been through the school/career gauntlet, travel often, my substance issues are in a resolved state and I canāt have substance abusers around me, I have no kids, donāt want kids, Iām full of childhood traumas, a foreigner, I donāt speak her language, and have too much empathy. We both like books and coffee tho š¤ Soā¦ how could those facts, on paperā¦ have any possibility of something working out in the long term? To have a healthy balanced partnership? And the answer isā¦ only as an ideaā¦ in the imaginationā¦ a dreamā¦ and it could never be. And it could never be healthyā¦ and it wasnāt.
Soā¦ why spin the wheels when all is flashing ādisaster ahead!ā ??? Wellā¦ thatās lifeā¦ and we are all broken. But I hold to the idea that life and romance are perfectly imperfect. You can sit on your sofaā¦ doing nothingā¦ fearing the worldā¦ avoiding peopleā¦ locked in a safe mental cage. Or experience lifeā¦ good, bad and uglyā¦ and everything in between.
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The thing about diminishing empathyā¦ low serotonin, low oxytocinā¦ you just donāt care. I bailed on Lauā¦ because that has been a typical thing with herā¦ weāre not investedā¦ soā¦ I donāt worry about it. I didn't reply to Marā¦ because I was feeling āwhatās the point?ā and a realistic analysis is that thereās a pattern of failure up to this pointā¦ soā¦ I didnāt worry about it.
And despite being very pensive about leaving CDMX at this timeā¦ I have to go. I have to pick up my car and things in San Antonio, TX. Fly to Colorado to deal with medical bills, the bank and a motorcycle, empty my storage in Albuquerqueā¦ and empty a storage in Los Angelesā¦ retrieve my mail in San Franciscoā¦ and buy another motorcycle to bring to Mexico. And eat a pizzaā¦ I need to organize and collect my belongings (and life) into one placeā¦ maybe twoā¦ and itās going to be a long, long day ahead.
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Sunday morning, as I prepare to head over to Cineteca de Las Artesā¦ I finally messaged Mar and declined the invitationā¦ in a polite wayā¦ with a counter invitation to go to Grutas Tolantongo with me next week. I was surprised by the response, ānetaā¦ wooĆ³ooow. Por favor, dime cuando y como va el plan para organizarme. Me gusta la ideaā¦ā
and okā¦ and coolā¦ but laterā¦ first I need to figure out how to get to the Cineteca from Del Valle Norteā¦ and I leaveā¦ first Metro 2ā¦ to Xola. Awwwwā¦ I remember Xolaā¦ I was here with TattooNire for an art show presentation once. The neighborhood is cuteā¦ but a little seedy by the Metro Station. I remember one block of nicely dressed, very young prositutes. And I turn the cornerā¦ and there they are.
The Xola Metro station (and much of blue line) is under construction. The train now ends at Xola from the south. Soā¦ the northbound train comes inā¦ people get off. The southbound people get on the same train and it switches tracks somewhere down the lineā¦ very confusing.
I need to get off at General Anaya station and then catch a local from thereā¦ Iām excited because itās an adventureā¦ a new placeā¦ and then I arrive and pop out of station. Nope! This is not newā¦ this Churubuscoā¦ I lived near here briefly. I decided to walkā¦ and then I see Parque Masayoshi Ohiraā¦ and yep, Iāve been here beforeā¦ there are Zendbird stickers somewhereā¦ š¦ and I realize, I know more of the city than I believeā¦
I slowly make my way to the Cinetecaā¦ meet up with Sandra. We have time before the movieā¦ and chat it up. She works in immigrationā¦ and I ask, āDame una visa de residencia temporal!!! Por favor, mi amor!!!ā She smiled and says she has friends in that department. Her English is malā¦ and sheās annoyed with my bad Spanish. āHablas muy mal espaƱolš”ā
āYesā¦ I speak very bad Spanishā¦ but I do speak itā¦ā
We retire our conversation and head to the cine for refrescos and palomitasā¦
And there I amā¦ watching a French film, with Spanish subtitles, sitting next to Sandra de Xochimilco from Mexican immigrationā¦ and nothing seems strange to me.
š²š½#CDMXlife
And for the record, it was a good movie.
