I saw the officer walk up a moment too late. He was already writing the ticket when I ran up, food in hand, phone buzzing with that familiar Doordash ping.
“Come on, man. I was here a minute,” I said.
Another minute later I had a fresh ticket in my hand. They said parking was a bitch in this city. They weren’t lying.
I was having a conversation with a friend that puts this little scene into perspective. We were talking about how everything in LA causes you to rise or fall.
If you don’t like being continually challenged, then…
Sometimes opening a new chapter in life is slow and meticulous. Like turning the page of a book. You get a glimpse of the next page as it’s happening and everything comes together in the simple turning of that page. Sometimes, it’s as abrupt as tires screeching onto black tarmac.
The LA skyline stretches out in a hazy, languid snake as the plane rattles on descent. It’s surreal: being here, seeing this place that had only existed as a space in my mind, as a dreamy what-if.
The city of angels: where people full of dreams move to every day…
And why having varied tastes can expand your creative horizons.
For the longest time, I convinced myself that I was somehow cheating on writing if I dared love an album or a painting more than a book. Was I being disingenuous to my craft? I was a writer and, therefore, obligated to always hold books and prose as the pinnacle of human expression.
Well, I realize now how nonsensical that sentiment was, but more importantly, I’ve discovered a wealth of value in other mediums. Whether it’s visual art, music, film or video games, I’ve found something in every form of…
The words I need to say are the words I cannot
They stick like zoo animals trapped in the menagerie of me
Silent bystanders to glass-tapping onlookers
The words I need to say are the ones I can’t find
The ones that refuse to bleed out like ink on paper
The ones I should say to you, but can’t bring myself to
Would you even take them if I tried?
The words I need to say are often the most fragile
If I held them in my hands, brittle as paper
Would you hold them?
Would you live with…
To Be a Real Writer…
I say relationship in a very human sense — as if writing were its own person. Not because I’m trying to romanticize or make some poetic commentary on writing, but because that’s how I can best get my brain to accept the fact that I can’t ignore this part of my life for too long.
I’ve heard time and time again the phrase, “You know you’re a writer if you must write, no matter what.” When I first heard this, I was still very young and eager to see myself as a full-fledged writer, whatever…
In my article on education, I mentioned how some students, often the systemically disobedient, tend to be some of the most intelligent. These individuals, outliers from the normal distribution in more ways than one, can be some of the greatest thinkers we know.
But what exactly is an outlier? What sets people apart from the standard tendencies, responses and thoughts that most people have? In essence, what makes some of these outlandish thinkers different?
In this context, an outlier is someone who stands separate from the main body of individuals. …
I was thinking the other night
About how the people I see
Are just mirages of me.
I was thinking about how
When I go out, “hit the town,”
There always seems to be something weighing me down.
You see, I think, even in a room full of people,
Even in this strange club with the flashing lights
And the exotic rug,
We’re all just children in need of a hug.
But we tend to push when we mean to pull,
Tend to alienate and subjugate,
When we mean to ameliorate.
But do we both need to bleed
I’ve found a ritual lately that I love. I’ll take forty-five minutes to an hour, drive up into the mountains, hike a few minutes, and just enjoy the freedom of being disconnected from everything. Sometimes I meditate, oftentimes I’ll just sit and enjoy nature.
The key to this is that I go out far enough that my phone is out of cell range. It’s a different feeling than just turning off your phone or having it on airplane mode. …
There’s a notion in the human mind of the “other.” Maybe it’s inherent, maybe it’s a result of the cultures we have been raised in, but either way, this concept persists in our thinking. Somehow we struggle to find some sense of personal identity without differentiating ourself from others.
Maybe it stems from our history. When two ancient tribes came into contact with one another, there were immediate lines of demarcation. We are such and such tribe and this is our territory as opposed to this other tribe . For some reason, there was a need to separate the two.
There seems to be a whole Pandora’s Box of tricks and tips to becoming the best writer you can be. One of the most common is making a ritual for yourself. Write at the same time every day, in the same place with your favorite Bath and Body Works candle. Doing this will show the Writing Gods that you are obedient to their commands and they will bless you with the muse.
I actually think this is very true, for the record. Creating a routine is a great way to train the mind to know when it’s time to write…
A writer from Miami.