Here we are at the end of May. They say May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Is it?
I’m not exactly sure what this means during a month like this one. At a time when everyone is quarantined and all eyes are on the news, and with the regular tragedies in the mix, the craze behind politics, the list of both information and misinformation, plus all the arguing and bickering between the right and the left does not show me a sense of awareness towards anything.
Overcoming Depression
I write about this because this is very real to me. I also write about this because although many people suffer or struggle in silence, and as they see it, no one understands and no one else gets it, but still, this is very real to them too.
Either way, whether right or not, I think this hits home for all too many people. I think that everyone has their own ideas and their own ways. And me, I have mine too. I had my own soundtrack in my mind that emulated my thoughts and feelings throughout my life.
Walking In The Rain
The roads near my house are country-like and quiet. The sky is gray and overcast this morning with a slight drizzle that turns on and off from time to time. I began my walk at approximately 5:30 this morning.
I decided to take this walk without regarding the periodic rains, because in fairness, the weather would only be used as an excuse if I decided to stay in.
Old As Our Memory
It is strange to think about the years I’ve spent in the working world. More than anything, it is crazy to think that I have been going to and from New York City for almost 30 years. In fairness, I don’t like the sound of this. I almost feel as though this somehow makes me an adult. And I cringe a little, just thinking about the idea.
30 years . . .
Ever Go To A Showcase?
There was a roomful of people. All of them were artists in their own way. I was there with Pete. The only problem is Pete was a wise ass and he always had something to say. I had never been to a showcase before.
This is where actors do little skits. This was almost like a play, but not exactly. Each performance was extremely different. Some of the performers were talented. Others were a bit more abstract or bizarre.
A Note From “The Boys” called: Samples From The Band
I say this has to be necessary to live. I say the festivals and the concerts and the times in the park when someone had music to liven the mood, or the times when youth was most alive is, was, and will always be enhanced by the sound of the music we played.
I know this is true. It has to be.
I say this is necessary. I say the music is partly how we live and breathe, partly how we feel, partly how we unwind and partly how we remember the crazy episodes of our life. Music gives depth to our senses and livens the pictures in our memory with color.
Please believe me on this one.
Continue readingA Tough Dose of Reality
I suppose there is someone in every town that feels the need to prove themselves. My guess is there’s always someone looking to be a gangster or a cowboy or tough enough to stand out in a crowd and have people call them “Crazy.”
Continue readingHow To Avoid Being A Crab In A Bucket
After a while, enough was enough. I suppose life has a way of moving in a direction. Something happens and eventually, no one can pretend anymore. Either the prophecy plays out or something happens and a light goes on. And that’s it. There’s no more pretending.
There’s no more excuses and there’s no more need to rationalize anything because suddenly, everything is what it is.
Finally, everything is out in the open and the pretending can stop. If this is the bottom, as they say, then this means we can rebuild from here, right?
Princes and Castles
First, I have to start with a pre-warning of sentiment and understanding. I never use accurate names because anonymity is very important to me. To keep true to this principle of mine, I point out that everything is true. However, tiny details have been changed to honor someone’s privacy. Plus, if you read this, I’d like you to create your own picture and adapt the descriptions to our own imagination.
Be advised, there is no need to feel “Bad” or “Sorry,” or think anything else other than remember the delirious memories of young life when everything was wild and crazy.
A Night Out East
There was a force inside of us. Or maybe this was more like a need to feel young or a need to have the crazy rush of adrenaline. There is an undeniable need that only comes when you’re still young enough to dare the edge but old enough to gain entry to the big show.
Remember?
Remember standing on line to a front door where a bouncer stood and asked us for I.D.? The music from inside leaked to the outdoors, like some crazy ride, and here we were, all of us about to enter the demented carnivals of an insane nightlife called “The Club Scene.”
The Written Addiction 