The world is a truly bizarre place. What I mean is us. I mean we are amazing creatures. Each and every one of us. We are all amazing for our own reasons. Even the bad ones that do bad things and the evil ones that do evil things. All of us have something.
As far as I go in this world and as far as I travel and no matter how many people I see or meet, I doubt there will ever come a time when I am not amazed or at least, surprised, even in the least of surprising times.
Continue readingThere is no reason to pretend anymore. None of this is a test or a drill. This is all happening, right here and right now. The world is at a stand still, but yet, everything keeps moving and the rest of us seem lost, as if the last several months have been like a movie that no one understands.
Continue readingWhen it all comes down, there’s only one thing we have to do. We have to mean it. Whatever and whichever action we choose; we have to mean every bit of it. Otherwise, why bother?
We have to mean everything we do and everything we say. When it comes down to the commitment and the plans we have or the dreams we share and when we talk about the goals we look to achieve; we have to mean it. We have to remember and understand that the depth of our commitment is going to equal the output of our success. So hold fast because the ride tends to get bumpy sometimes.
Sometimes, life is just too short for long conversations.
What I mean is there is entirely too much going on at once. There are too many arguments. There’s too many incidents. There are too many complications, too many complaints, and too many opinions.
There is life happening to us at the speed of about 1,000 miles per hour, every day. This is how fast the Earth spins at the Equator. The Earth rotates every 23 hours, 56 minutes and 4.09053 seconds. This never stops. Scientists say Earth’s spin has slowed down about 6 hours over the past 2740 years, which is a science that I’m sure is too much for me to handle, like say, now, on a Saturday morning before the sunrise.
But either way, there are only so many hours in a day. Nothing will change this. At least, not in our lifetime.
I don’t want to think about what today means. But yet, how could I possibly forget? How could I ever forget what I saw? How does someone remove something like this from their history?
See, I am of the belief that there is hope and there is healing. I am of the belief that healing is not forgetting and feeling is not reliving —It’s only remembering.
Continue readingI don’t come here because I have to. I come here because I choose to.
I want to do this. Otherwise, why bother, right?
Otherwise, life is this forced or coerced thing and commonplace like the rest of attention mongers on social media with their picture perfect smiles, buffed by a filter to seem pristine.
It is September now, day 10 to be exact. The winds outside are calm this morning. I am in the dark with the white light glowing at me from my computer screen. My trusty cup of coffee is to my left, which I’ve just acknowledged by taking a brief pause and a good sip to build the energy it takes to keep me going.
I will call this a “Thing” because
there are so many more names to call it.
But either way, I have this “Thing” inside me.
I have this “Thing” in me,
a voice perhaps, or a life, like a child
or a little kid that hides away.
The old saying goes, “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.” I believe this is true.
Then again, sometimes we try to lead a horse to water and the horse isn’t even thirsty.
There are times when we think we are doing the right thing. There are times when we’re only trying to be helpful. But there is something we tend to forget.
Help is a reciprocal agreement. Help has nothing to do with me or you. Help is not about saying the right thing or offering the best possible suggestion. Actually, in crucial times, help is often extremely quiet because listening is usually the most helpful thing we can do.
For my day job, I am a union worker in an old building. This building is part of New York City’s history. This is part of our labor’s history as well. Although the doors officially opened in 1929, the building was completed in 1927.
Some of the stories I’ve heard are conflicting. I have been told that my building was the tallest in the world until The Chrysler opened up in 1930. But the history books tell the story differently.
Sometimes I find myself opening up old walls and breaking through old columns to find newspaper clippings from 1927. The paper is brittle and yellow and most often crumpled, which makes it difficult to unfold and read the news.
Of all things to believe in life, there has to be at least a semblance of hope. There has to be at minimum, at least a trace of light because otherwise, what else is there except for the dimness and the shadows of doubt?
Of all things to believe in, no matter how bad things may seem or how badly one might want to jump from their own skin; no matter how dark it gets or stormy or bumpy the road may seem, there has to be at least a minimum sense of drive.
The Written Addiction 