Kids These Days

Kids these days. What with their gadgets, and their music, and their television gimmicks, and their slang. In my day it was simple, you punch somebody out, they break your nose, you're friends for the rest of your life!

Okay, perhaps that was a bit exaggerated. I am not an old jewish man, nor do I actually talk like this...most of the time. But be that as it may, I think we can all agree that the next generation is quiet different. Natural, of course. Every generation should be different. But when an 11-year-old asks me flat out "what is a Super Nintendo?" I have to force my head not to drop in shame.

I'm only 25, but I can see a much clearer picture of what is happening with people who are 10-15 years younger than me. It's amazing to watch these kids think and interact with world. It's still strange to me that one day I will tell my kids about 9/11, and they won't react much different than when I learned about John F. Kennedy's death. Part of history, yes, but never able to understand the full impact.

I also see a lot of people my age coming down and insulting these kids, and that bothers me. Yes, I have made a snide comment here and there about how spoiled or disrespectful some kids can be, but I wonder, how is that helping?

A good friend of mine has two young boys, 11 and 7, and a daughter who is 2. These kids, particularly the 11-year-old, remind me so much of my younger self it's scary. They think very differently than most of their peers, and truthfully are much smarter. This puts them in an awkward position. On one hand, they want to connect, and are told to connect with kids their own age, and on the other hand, all the kids their own age are "just stupid!" (Actual quote from 11-year-old.)

I find myself laughing out loud as I write this, because I struggled much the same way. At 11, I was making movies with my little home video camera, while all my friends were outside throwing a ball around. I was writing screenplays when most kids were finding clever ways to make fart jokes. I don't say this to brag, quite the opposite. I say this to emphasize how, while it was fun being creative, it was quite lonely. I wanted so badly to connect with someone, but the ones who were older than me were in high school, college, married, living life, while all the kids my own age were "just stupid."

When I look at my 11-year-old self, I wish that I could tell him what I know now. I wish I could let him know that life is exciting, and it will get more exciting as you grow. You will meet new friends who are just like you. You will graduate high school and go to college. You will make music with wonderful people, and you will carry those people in your soul for the rest of your life. And yes, you will make it you California! Keep living, and keep enjoying who you are. It's a gift! Have fun with it!

Alas, I have grown into that man, and my 11-year-old self is long forgotten. But I look at my friend's son, who is so much like me it's scary, and so passionate about creating and living that it fills me with such joy. If I could be that voice for him, that voice I so wished I had at that age, then I know I will have accomplished more in this life than if I climbed Hollywood's mountain and claimed it as my own. I will have invested in the next generation, and love will be spread.

Invest in those younger than you! Your voice has more power than you realize!

God, The Devil and Undone Love

Sometimes I wish fighting actually solved things. Sometimes I wish the endless debates, the anger flared up from guilt-ridden religious theories, accusations against other belief systems based on difference of opinions, I wish all of these were as meaningful as they are made out to be. They should be. And why not? Since the beginning of time, man has fought, argued, and killed his fellow man for one reason or another. From countless wars, to splits in civilizations, to genocides of entire races, to cold-blooded murders, precious life has been ripped away, all in the name of something. Even if that something is as simple and petty as revenge.

I wish the endless threads posted on Facebook which cause frustrating outcries against friends and family members would mean something. I wish that, just once, an argument would reach a breaking point and the other person would change their opinion and there would be harmony.

I wish old friends, fathers, mothers, sons, sisters, brothers, cousins, adoptive family members, would all make a point to argue, and I wish those arguments would be won by someone. I wish whoever lost that argument would walk away in defeat, hanging their head shamefully at the crushing misfortune. That is, after all, the reason we argue, right?

I wish Heaven didn't exist. I wish that family members and friends who don't talk anymore could gather around a massive supper and laugh together. Every irreconcilable difference tossed aside if only for one meal. Every tiff, every blow-up, every disagreement, every insult thrust into the skin of someone close would fade away. I wish there were peace. That whatever version of eternity, if any, you believe in would not have to be the trophy held so high against the bleak situations we face in this life. I wish people would experience Heaven on earth.

I wish there were no religion. I wish churches would disappear and the name “Christian” wouldn't carry such a repulsive taste in the mouths of certain groups of our culture. I wish even more that I didn't agree with those groups. I believe in Jesus, and I wish He were here physically as I write this. Then I'd have someone to talk to who actually understood me.

I wish for emotional catharsis. Something we all seem to long for, but only so few achieve. I wish that some kind of change would take place from all the pain, all the hurt, all the broken friendships. I wish all of this would cause at least ONE person to see things differently.

Sadly, this will never happen.

Someone will post their little Facebook status, someone will toss a snarky remark at a party, someone will get angry at someone else. It is a way of life. I very much wish that it were not.

Whatever you believe in, be it God, evolution, or some other means of higher power, or no higher power at all. Remember this: we cannot and will not progress forward in this life if we cannot learn how to trust, forgive, and try, even if it's just an attempt, to love.

Love. Because it's all we have.

What Can I Learn Today?

            I feel like our generation is dumbed-down beyond what we realized. I feel like people are so focused on being “okay,” that they forget to grow. I feel like I myself am succumbing to this pattern. Why is it so easy to allow an old way of thinking to influence you into a pattern you swore you would forget? Why do our minds change so sporadically that sometimes we forget what is real, who we are, and what we are? Why does the “me” I knew six months ago seem so far away from the “me” I see when I wake up every morning. Why are the things I think about today so foreign to who I was then? Why does an old apartment that was once a place of refuge, now reflect the statue of mediocrity and complacency in my life? Six months ago, the way of living for me was you wake up every morning, take a bus to a job you hate, get paid, go home to an apartment shared by a few close friends who are as annoyed with life as you are, so you delight in each other’s frustration. Escaping through coffee, poetry, music, Dexter, late night Wendy’s runs, bus rides with obscure small-town people, and dreams of what might happen down the road.

Why does the mind convince you that you are happy when in fact, you are dying inside? No, this is not a pathetic stream of depressing thoughts weaved together by the notes of Secondhand Serenade. But really, thinking closely at a situation, this sounds depressing. When you are in the midst of it, you sing to the tune of melodramatic sweetness, and mind-numbing sadness. So I ask again, why do one’s surroundings have such a profound effect on one’s psyche? Their entire demeanor, thought process, even the voice inflections are sometimes altered based on where you are living. Do we stick ourselves in molds that we created based on where we live and how that place defines us? Is that why living in a sub-ghetto neighborhood causes me to think twice before going out at night? Or why living in a small town in the middle of central Florida makes me want to sit in a coffee shop all day and write poetry? Or why walking down an immaculate burst of city lights makes me feel like I can do anything in the world? I guess we are all affected by where we live, but I don’t believe we have to be. I am a believer in being the same person no matter where we are, or who we are around. It is a constant self examination and realization which affirms who we are all over again, and Who we belong to. We struggle, we feel, we hurt, we cry, we laugh, we sing, we dance, we rejoice, we grow.

We live.

Freeze Frame

I feel like this is one of those nights where some sort of deep thought should be posted. But tonight, I have no words. No poetry. No song lyric to match this night. It's like there's a song in my head that's begging to be heard, but doesn't know how to sing itself out. I'm currently lost in a lazy view from my apartment. The moon is full. The city flickers, and what looks like a highway of planes fly overhead. Coldplay's smooth piano chills my headphones, my roommates sit on laptops, and me...I'm not lonely. I'm not sad. I'm not excited. I'm not happy. I'm just...here. I'm living. I've stopped for a Matrix-style freeze frame of my life. The entire world cranked into slow-mo just long enough for me to look around and I must say, it's a beautiful sight.

I'm looking at a painting that tells stories I will never forget. So many things happen. Four people sit in a theater watching TRON for the first time. A group of people play Live Mafia after a long day at the beach. Endless debates, poolside conversations, late night walks, annoying last minute meetings, group memorial paintings, beach bonfires, and the ability to be "little and shock someone." Time goes by so maddeningly fast. It's a lucky break if you can find the time to stop and look around for a while. This painting isn't finished yet. If there are times you feel like the world is speeding by too fast, don't let it. Grab it and hold on for dear life. This is our adventure. Every breath, every night, every time you wake up, life pulsates with endless treasures it wants to give to you.

Maybe this message reached someone, or maybe I'm still crazy. But face it, we're all here together. This world was given to us as a gift, enjoy it. After all, these moments will never come again. Of course there are always new things to look forward to, but life isn't a destination, it's how you get there that's the worthier part.

"We live in a beautiful world, yeah we do."

Hey, I found a one!

Rock and Roll Dreams

"When you really, really need it the most, that's when rock and roll dreams come through."

I haven't been able to figure out why this lyric has stuck itself in my head and won't leave. This entire day, I've been waiting for the right moment, the right place, or the right Facebook status mood update to use this. But really, I've been dwelling on the song.

The first few lines go something like "you can't run away forever, but there's nothing wrong with getting a good head start." Later it talks about shutting yourself out from a broken heart. What a wonderful cliche in a classic rock song, right? Wounded hearts, broken dreams, dark Los Angeles nights blah blah blah... 

It's 10:43 pm, and I'm sitting here at the center alone, with nothing but the ghostly hum of the streetcars below. The truth is, I'm still waiting for that dream. I'm waiting for that moment where the audience cheers, the protagonist (yours truly) meets his clear external goal (thank you HPW), and jumps his way to the emotionally satisfying ending. Honestly, just a little foreshadowing would be welcome. In my last blog, I mentioned how I view my life as me sitting in a theater alone, and watching it play out on screen. I feel like I'm leaning forward, like something major, some kind of massive turning point is about to happen which will determine the rest of the story. Honest to Oprah, the suspense is killing me! When does the good guy get the girl? When does he defeat the bad guy? When does he make the decision to push on through to the climax?? DOES HE EVEN DO THESE THINGS AT ALL??!!?

Sigh...just wait.

"Just wait" this voice tells me. Wait for when it's right. I could spend hours describing everything that is ticking through this crazy brain of mine, and I probably still wouldn't be able to make it clear enough. The truth is, if there is no other reason for me to walk through this planet for however long or short of a time the Good Lord  gives me, I want people to be okay. That's all I want. My mind is aching from hearing countless arguments, both religious and otherwise, which have driven families apart. I can think of friendships which have been ripped right to the core because of a misunderstanding, or a broken promise, or a dating relationship that got in the way. (You know who you are.) I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting. I am tired of listening to people fight. I wish life wasn't so short, but it is. I stab myself in the foot just as much as those I am preaching to because I myself have held a grudge against someone for a while. I must let this go.

I will not end this blog on a majorly spiritual note or a Bible verse. I merely want to send a message to the world. If you choose to read, then thanks for escaping to my little place in time for a while. We all share our own rock and roll dreams, why else would we be in this city if we didn't? So, thanks dear Los Angeles. May we continue to revel in this crazy world we live in, and maybe, leave it a little better than when we came into it.

Rock on fellow travelers!

The Reality of Pain and Love

I have a hundred thousand voices inside my head telling me what's right and wrong. I feel like choosing a side would be entirely pointless. If words could sum up everything that flows through this brain, there would be no reason for me to write it all out. I watch my life play out like on a screen, and I still feel like I'm waiting for the good part. My bag of popcorn is empty, my coke is watered down, and some wanker behind me won't shut off his phone. I'm stuck in a crowded theater with a bunch of cynical critics telling their own version of a film they didn't make. Why does everyone have the right answer in their own mind?

Seven weeks I've been in this city and it's taught me one thing: that life is not to be taken seriously, but not to be laughed off either. Life is a gift that too many people toss aside like a Christmas package from that one aunt you don't really like. It's treated like that annoying cousin that everyone hopes won't show up to the reunion, but once they get there, you say "Screw it. Let's have some fun." Life is short. Too short. Nobody ever understands this until it's ripped away from you and leaves a gaping hole you can't get out of. Sometimes it takes stripping open old wounds to remind you that you're still connected, even if it's by pain. Pain is not a bad thing. Pain takes you through those dark places you avoid with every inch of yourself. Pain makes you look at yourself naked and learn to smile while doing so. Pain reflects everything that's inside you and forces you to accept what you cannot change. Love brings you through it. Pain without love is torture, but love without pain is deadly. So many people spend ungodly amounts of time, effort, and money, just so they can live their life free of pain. People cannot bare to look at themselves. We live in a culture which dabbles in masochistic lies and endless messages of self-doubt. People are sheep and they believe it.

Pain is brokenness. 

Love is a dark representation of what we think we know. Love tells us that we will never find the right person no matter how hard we look. Love tells us that we will never be good enough. Love reminds us of our faults while our eyes are fixated on the perfections of that special someone.

Love is broken.

Love is manipulated into a fluffed-up daze of emotions that kneed your heart, pressing it into a box of chocolates that is sealed with a rusted lock. Love is not what people think it is. Imagine that person. Imagine losing yourself in a dream of all their quirks, ticks, perfections, imperfections, and all. Imagine them smiling. Now, imagine them smiling and knowing they are thinking about you. Now imagine what would happen if your dream of being with that person came true. Every fantasy you conjured up in your crazy brain became a reality and you were living the "good part" of your life's movie. Beautiful, isn't it. But what would happen of all of those feelings, all those fantasies of kissing in the rain, taking midnight walks, and slow dancing to a Journey's "After All These Years" came true, and it corrupted them. What if those things you loved about that person were slowly stripped away after months or even years into the relationship. You find that the person you were so taken  by, was slowly dying...and it was YOUR fault. What if getting the very thing you wanted, is they very thing that destroyed them. What if the only way to avoid this happening, was to walk away? The only way to save who they are is to give up your little crush and move on. Would you do it?


If you answered yes, then congratulations, you know what love is. At least in some way. Selfless. Selflessness is the only thing that can save anyone from stumbling into a crowded bar and guzzling the cheapest whiskey they can find. Selflessness is the only way a relationship, a friendship, a partnership, it's the only way HUMANS can survive. I pray to God that we haven't been corrupted so far as to forget the most basic element in human companionship. Love is classified as many things, but the core-driven force that makes it what it is, is selflessness. A message I have had to drive into my own crazy brain recently. I pray that I have not been so corrupt as to forget this.

Perhaps love and pain can walk hand in hand as sisters. Perhaps you cannot have one without the other. Perhaps you cannot truly love someone until you learn how to let them go. Who knows? I've been racking my brain trying to figure out a good note to leave this blog on. All I know is this: life is beautiful. Life is a deep, rich, endless tapestry of dreams. If there is a God, and I do believe there is, I think He is smiling.


Maybe I should too.

Waiting for a Train

Sometimes I wonder if I am emotionally healthy enough to be able to bounce back from stuff, or simply cynical enough not to care.

I've recently met a friend out here in LA whose fiancee left him six months ago. While he certainly is mature, he doesn't hesitate to bring up the fact that she is no longer with him, or to occasionally sit in a quiet room with nothing by Amy Lee's haunting cries filling the speakers. Don't get me wrong, I would never mock someone's pain. I did once lose someone that I deeply and naively cared for. While it was painful, I was never actually in a relationship with her, and grew from the experience. I cannot begin to imagine losing a fiancee. I suppose if your mind, body, spirit, heart, and livelihood are committed to that person, there is no question. To lose that is to lose yourself.

As for me, I do carry scars and mistakes. But each time, I've been able to bounce back. Right now, I am at a level that simply says "let life happen." If I find a connection with someone, and we find we are better not only for each other, but because of each other, then I will embrace it. But if I find someone, we connect, and then after a while, disconnect and continue our separate ways, it will hurt, but I am oddly fine with that too. It's odd. Is it emotional maturity, or apathy?

I guess I always pegged myself as a cynic, but really, after taking a hard look within, I believe in more than just waiting for a train that doesn't come. I believe while the world is small, it is still bigger than us. Surely two people can reach some kind of mutual level and connect. That's all that matters to me.

I still do not really know if this is emotional health, or blatant cynicism. But perhaps...

It is both.

Maybe we all need a healthy dose of cynicism; rather we're ending a stagnant relationship, recovering from a broken one, or simply embracing life and all the heaven and hell it comes with. It's a fact, life happens all around us. It's our choice rather we get on board or not. You can sit it out, let yourself rot, and die alone. Or, you can wait for that train, get on it, and let it "take you far away." If things are right, and you're real lucky, you just might find someone to take that ride with you.

That train looks good to me.