A little bit over a month ago I quit my job as a photography editor and moved with my brother in the Dallas suburb of Irving. Having suffered from chronic unemployment and labor malaise all my life it seems that I bring trouble onto myself by simply quitting when a job gets tedious and unrewarding. That's my freedom. The Pink Cowboy has desires like anyone else, and many of those do cost money. Then again that's my freedom. What I do is not for the fainthearted, it takes guts to live with very little money and to start looking for a job again. I will easily settle for stability but never for stagnation. Once my beloved mother passed away in Puerto Rico I need it to get away from it all. You see I am a native Puerto Rican who never felt at home in that rather chaotic society. My life had become torpid and purposeless. I did not know exactly the remedy for my angst but I knew instictively that I had to leave the island. So Texas is providing me for a space much needed to nurture my nature. That's my freedom. My ever ironic freedom. I see beautiful men in the horizon chanting in unison...some interesting population I plan to civilize.....
thus spake the Pink Cowboy.
The Pink Cowboy will not settle for stability at the cost of stagnation. My credo is quite simple...do what you must do for your soul. Do not judge me. I too have my very own freedoms. I quit my job a month ago to look for a better life elsewhere. Texas was my open door. I took it to heart to start anew. My soul needed space, it also needed the longing from afar. It needed to exile itself from the Caribbean conundrum of the past 9 years. Thus spake the Pink Cowboy like an euphoric Nietzschian warrior. I was looking for a higher form of supplication. Tired of praying for the commonplace to occur I decided to fly away and place myself out of the carcass of oblivion. I do not to wish to become an entity that spits solipsisms and lays back satisfied at his eloquence. I am boiling mad and I want you to know it. The cowboy is pink not because he is girly or tender or soft. The cowboy is pink like a medium rare steak is pink and bloody before it becomes welldone. I have constricted my poetic nature in order to not sound deranged, maladjusted or unfit. But indeed, I am burning inside like the proverbial candle lighted at both ends. The sheer panic of being known as a problematic depressed sensitive man sent me down in to a hell pit of conformity and isolation. I am taking off my clothes and burning them. If you are insensitive to my daimon go away, do not talk to me. Do not dare to pull me away from my nature, my gods, my love. Thus spake the Pink Cowboy and it all came to be true.
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