where the writers are

Luis Blasini I can offer only my own confusion.

Luis Blasini
Luis Blasini
Tijuana
Member since: May, 2009
Last login: 07/19/2009
Last update : 07/19/2009
Contact Me

My Red Room Url

About Me

  • I am an American writer living in the slums of Mexico. I'm gentle, and only a few would say funny... the "cheese" factor really comes into play there. I'm honest, but I do lie. I'm laid-back, but up for adventure. I'm an artist and a writer, creative & often inspired, but procrastination does reign supreme. I love the simple things & am in "ah" of the big ones. I try to live for the now, but the past & the future are my ever faithful companions. I'm a romantic who loves the classics, but I'll always stop for the next big thing.

Luis's Blog

  • Tijuana Snapshot

    June 13, 2009

    • Tijuana being so close to the Control Culture of the United States, it is a great feeling when you enter Mexico - this timeless free uplifting feeling of noninterference once you cross over. In fact, the farther south you travel away from the border, the brighter it is - as though the influence of the United States hangs over the frontier like thick dark pendulating clouds.The Central Zone of ...
    • Continue Reading » 0 Comments

  • Jose's Rumpus Room

    June 10, 2009

    • Jose Perez threw a party in honor of his new apartment. Two room rat hole with a rusted steel balcony and panoramic view of the Red Zone. Nice if you wanta see smog, criss-cross of wires, and bloated hookers clop up and down the broken pavement. But, ah yes, the aforementioned fiesta. All types of sordid junkies and nefarious types lurked in the smoke filled shadows of Jose's colonial apartment. ...
    • Continue Reading » 0 Comments

  • Under the Mexican moon.

    June 9, 2009

    •  　Around 2am I exit the Internet cafe and start home. Pass up a dark block and light a cigarette. Transvestite hooker leaps out of a doorway of Hotel Leon and quacks in broken English, “Hey, baby - one cigarette for me?”Why not? I stop and I’m pulling out my package - sounds kinda dirty, don’t it? A pelon cholo pops up and asks for one, too. She shoots out, “No, no - just give it ...
    • Continue Reading » 0 Comments

  • Ugly American

    June 2, 2009

    • All the streets of the city slope down between deepening canyons to a vast, triangle-shaped plaza full of darkness. Walls of street and plaza are perforated by crumbling dwelling cubicles and cafes, some a few feet deep, others extending out of sight in a network of rooms and corridors, hidden by mist and steam - smells of beans, seared meat, mota, and shit. Catatonic emaciated whores stand gray ...
    • Continue Reading » 0 Comments

  • Score.

    May 29, 2009

    • Sky is that bright Mexican blue and the air is simmering humid. Mario and I dodge into a filthy alley littered with broken beer bottles, syringes, and shit. Small barefoot children play with a grey mangy mongrel.We cut into a two story hotel lobby at the dead end of the blind alley. Pass through French doors - fat naco sits behind the reception watching the flickering screen of a small portable ...
    • Continue Reading » 0 Comments

Syndicate content