Prose From the Soul: Scenes From the Other Side

There it is. The sun coming up from a different side
and ah, the West Coast.
She remembers me like a new friend
reacquainted by a connection through a dream.

There are hopes here. Stories too, of all kinds
like mine for example,
or the idea that the beaches here
were something that I never thought I’d see;
yet – I’ve seen them

It’s different here in L.A. yet
there’s a lot of similarities which teach me
that people are people and geography
is just geography
We all have dreams. We all have a need to be heard
and a need to be found or that somehow,
we all have a need to find the right fit,
to find the center of our true acceptance
to accomplish something
or to be something more than just a regular scene.

I get that.

There it was, the first time my eyes
set sights on the Boulevard
or watched the sun go down over the Hills in Hollywood.
I know that it’s just another city, really
that’s all. It’s just a location yet,
at the same time, there’s a hook to this.

There’s a spin that takes me back to a time
where I’d never thought I would see the day
when my toes dug into the West Coast sands
or saw the sun go down on the other side
of my country.

I admit to this, openly and honestly
because, of course, why bother lying
when the truth is more redeeming.
Why bother pretending
when the truth is freeing me enough
to allow this moment of revelation
or to come to a supplication; in which case,
we come to the understanding
that we are often only the sum of our limitations

Unless we become limitless . . .
Then what?

I remember the first time I was out there;
the people from my Sunday morning group at the shelter
called me to ask, “What’s it like out there”
or “Did you see anyone famous?” which I did,
by the way
which of course, I was at a place
where names cannot be revealed.

I learned a special detail about the rich and famous:
they have the same insecurities
as the poor and infamous. 
Our inner-workings are not so different
we only think they are

I was listening to a man
who wanted to deny his need for treatment.
He was pissed about his placement
and pissed that he was caught and what happened was,
his number came up.
It was his turn to face the outcomes
Either that, or take the option of drug treatment
and recover.

He told me I didn’t want anyone to know I was famous.
He said, he didn’t want anyone to bother him about it
I told him that I had a great idea on how to fix that.
“Oh yeah, how?”
“Stop telling people that you’re famous.”
Pretty simple . . .
(something tells me he didn’t like my answer)
I saw him a year later . . .
he remembered me

There it was again,
a trip that I never expected to happen.
You know? And I have to say it . . .
Business class ain’t half bad.
Not at all. 

It’s the walks that get you.
It’s the side of the beach,
which is opposite the hand of my East coast life.
And it’s apparent that yes, in fact,
I do have an accent and yes,
this causes a smile or a comment sometimes.

However, the San Diego trip
created a little fiasco with my client at the time.
I was a different personality than my client was used to.
My accent was different.
My appearance was different. And maybe I’m different all-around
yet after a few walks
up and down the beach
and some open discussions and conversations
about the heart and the soul
or the need to find redemption
and that somehow, in some way,
we all have to find a way to stand up and stay alive
in this crazy place – together,
we learned that our differences
weren’t so different at all. 

By the way, if you’ve never seen the sunset
at Imperial Beach in San Diego,
give it a shot sometime.
You might like it.

Then it happened again, another reason
and another trip with more in store
and more hopes for the heart
and more dreams for the heart to consume. 

There’s a little place near Marina Del Rey
in which I saw and felt and tasted the nectar of hope,
which is to say
that this was an inclination that my future is only beginning.
Or, if not the beginning, at least this was the place
where I walked into a sense of emotion, so pure
and beautiful to say the least

Not to mention,
there’s a spot known as Killer Shrimp
with a few bowls and dishes of food
to reach the likes of something that I will never forget.
The waitress stopped back
shortly after her delivery to see how the food was –
and nearly all gone, the answer was perfect.

There are times when dreams find themselves
wrapped in the mesh of limitations.
And there are times when we limit ourselves or think
“Who the hell would care,” or
“Who would ever listen to me?”

Or we fail to see our value and thus,
our worth becomes less-worthy and therefore,
our ideas become unbelievable enough
that we stop believing
that any of them will ever come true. 

I will never renounce my place here
on the New York side of things. I will never
give up my New York City dreams nor
will I ever deny my throne
as a prince in the vast castles of anonymous rights;
yet, there is a mutual appreciation for something
which I had only thought
would happen to me in a dream. 

The option to choose is forward and ahead.
It’s not about the results anymore;
my life has become more about the efforts,
which are hard at times and grueling at others.

There are times when it’s hard to write
or meet you in this place,
which is where I’ve become accustomed to reaching
(from the heart) and there are times
when the show is over
and the lights are off.

I am tired. I am spent and there are times like this
when I wonder if any of this is meaningful
or if the worries in my head are correct;
and dammit to hell, it’s all just meaningless. 

It’s hard to get up sometimes.
It’s hard to continue or get out of bed.
It’s hard to think about what will happen next,
which is why I supposed I was told
“keep it in the moment, kid.”
This is obvious of course – but I am what you call human.
I am what you call another experiment
here on a rock known as Project Earth

I never had the chance to fish the piers near Santa Monica.
Maybe next time
Not to mention, there’s an Indian food spot
just off the boardwalk in Venice Beach.

By the way,
the last walk along Venice Beach
someone famous walked passed (pretentiously)
with sunglasses on,
pretending they didn’t care to be noticed and
they were smiling because of course you noticed
How can anyone not notice?
“They” walked by with big sunglasses and a hat,
headphones on (probably pretending to listen to music)
trying to be inconspicuous
which only made them stand out more
in an almost sad, obvious or pathetic way – but hey,
the need for validation comes to us all in different ways
and lo and behold,
either way we are all on a different journey
with similar hopes

Except us
And besides, I don’t need to be noticed so much
Not with what I do
(or by anyone else but you).

No, my romance is alive
and my style is the same
regardless of the coast or the temperature in the air.
Either way, my future is on the way
And to define it, all I have to do is take one step forward,
onward with no attachment to the outcome –
because only the efforts matter.

So, be effort based.
Be ready too because the world will greet you
the moment you extend your hand to reach it –
just like I have (to you)

Note: I write this as a personal quest and yes, I include you with the intention to create an understanding that no matter where I go; I am not alone.
Even if I am alone or even if I am only talking to myself, I write this because I know that I want you to hear me. I don’t want to make the mistake and believe that I’m aloneeven if I am alone

I write you into all of this. And you can call it what it is, which is my need to believe, or perhaps this is just a hope to hold my purpose or identify my dreams that someday; I will have overcome the biggest obstacle known to humankind – The obstacle of self because everything else is freedom

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.