Dreams

As I was biking to work, I remembered my dream from last night. I was dead. I wasn't even present, life was just going on without me. People were going to work, there were cars on the street. It's amazing that some of us can have profound changes in our life while the rest of us just go about our days. I think it's just a reminder that life can pass you by in an instant... or a week... Things can change unexpectedly and you can either change with them or get left behind. As open minded as I think I am, I think I'm pretty resistant to things changing. I get caught up in the way things are and kind of lose sight of the fact that just because things have always been a certain way, it doesn't mean they can't be better... or worse. Kind of like hotel rooms...

Chips

I'm not into birthdays or holidays. I've been like that for awhile. I'm fine with the ideas behind these days, but I think I let the expectations overwhelm me. Personally, I don't desire a day when people are forced into remembering me out of obligation. I'm fine celebrating other people's special days, but I'm not into having myself celebrated like that at all.
I think it's because nothing really seems special on those days, there's always that sense of expectation. I take full responsibility for that, but what I find the most special are the little things. When someone thinks enough of me to bring back the chips they didn't eat at lunch, it's really nice. Seriously. When someone gets me a grilled cheese at In-n-Out just because they were there, it doesn't get much better. When someone buys me a shirt because they saw it and thought of me, it's the greatest gift. It's what people do when they're just going about their day that really shows their true colors. It's a true surprise--one without any expectation. When someone just thinks of you without any catalyst, that's something truly special.

Easter Hater

I have no use for Easter this year.
I have no use for pastel colors and wicker baskets and chocolate eggs.
I don’t want to see children running and laughing in their Easter best,
searching for hidden eggs on the backyard slope of their relatives’ house.
I don’t want to eat ham or go to church
or get together with family and friends.
Because you still have your niece...
and she still has her daughter...
and they still have the same family they had this time last year.
So go eat your ham, and paint your eggs, and wear your Easter bonnet...
enjoy it while you can.
Because Easter may not look the same
this time next year.

Lucky

Being away from place I'm so used to is sobering. It's quite a thought when you realize that the world keeps on turning without you doing the things you're so used to doing. Life goes on. But it works the other way too. I think it's good to get away and clear your mind and remind yourself of the things that are important to you. Work-wise, there is about one thing that's important and it's the person who sits behind me. It makes me really appreciate what a good deal I got when I got my current job. Of all the people in all the world, I was lucky enough to get someone I could relate to, especially when the pool of those people is probably pretty small. Things do happen for a reason. Maybe I don't realize it until way after, but at this point, I do realize I'm lucky to have met Petricia. She's a doll.

Is This All There Is?

I used to believe in God. I was sent to Catholic school for eight years and I bought into the whole "devil with the horns and tail" bit. My mother even told me that my dad was going to hell because he didn't believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross for our sins. There were days...months...years when I didn't question the existence of a higher power, but now...I'm not so sure. I mean, it seems rather idealistic to believe that there is this world, in the clouds, that exists where you have no worries, no fears, and you spend your days skipping through a field of tulips and dragonflies with your childhood dog, Mike. What if this is all there is? What if we make up the idea of an afterlife to kid ourselves into believing that death isn't as bad as it seems...that those we love and adore really aren't gone. What if the pain would be too much to bear if we accepted the truth, so we pretend and we cling to any strand of hope that they are still with us...watching us...helping us. What if God is our year round Santa Claus?

Crossing the Street

It's strange. I cross the same street almost every day. It's a busy intersection and I try to stay aware, but sometimes things are just out of my hands. Yesterday a car almost made a left hand turn into me and had to swerve and brake to avoid hitting me. Then a car gliding through a red light to make a right turn had to brake to actually stop while I crossed to the other side.
No matter how much you pay attention, no matter how much you try to stay in control, there are a whole lot of other factors in the world that can decide matters without you having a say.
When that first car was coming towards me, I was paralyzed. The smart thing to do would be to move or run or at least try to get out of the way, but I was frozen. In that moment, I was completely at the will of the driver, what he did would decide my fate. I think that's what makes it hard to get out of my own way sometimes. It's hard to admit that sometimes you're just at the will of all the other people in the world who are going along, making choices or not making them, of things just happening without any warning.
Of course my mind started to wonder what if. What if I was mowed down? What if I was injured? Life can change in an instant... I don't know why sometimes it does, and sometimes it doesn't. Walking around with that idea... with the knowledge that no matter what you do, you still are not in complete control can be a scary prospect.
I really hope that everything happens for a reason. If not, what am I left with?


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Pushing Through

It's weird. I finally pushed out of my comfort zone and it wasn't that bad. I was expecting horrors. I was trying to figure out any way to get out of doing what I said I would do. I was nervous, but I pushed through and did what I hinted at doing and it wasn't that bad. It was enjoyable even. Yes, it was nerve-wracking as well, but I came through it and I learned a few things and maybe even enjoyed myself.
Fear is there for a reason. It keeps us from making stupid mistakes, but where's the line between safe fear and irrational fear? I find myself driven by fear of doing things, even the smallest things. When did fear start to bleed into my living of life? I'm scared of so much, but it's all this inconsistent mist of my own creation.
I guess maybe it's just going to take a lot of practice to get out of my box. Just getting in the mode of being completely terrified, pushing through and realizing in the end it wasn't that bad. I hope it's a lesson I can eventually learn.

The Art Of Grief Manipulation

I am considering joining a grief group. That even sounds weird. It sounds like something I shouldn’t have to be considering. I would rather just pretend like none of this ever happened. But even with a grief group, I manage to manipulate the experience and have twisted, unreal expectations. For example, I weigh whether to attend this group in Woodland Hills, which is closer to my work, or West LA, where I feel the grievers would be more to my liking. I am judging the grievers by where they live. Who lives in Woodland Hills anyway? In my mind, it is a kind of suburban utopia. I have an image of being surrounded by eighty year old widows and middle aged housewives who have lost a parent to old age or a book club friend to breast cancer. I can’t believe I am judging grief. What have I become? I am trying to influence the googlemaps page, so Sawtelle appears closer, simply so I can surround myself by those that I presume will be dealing with a loss that is more fashionable. Maybe a gay guy dealing with the death of his partner to AIDS, or a hip thirty something actress who’s sister was murdered in the East Village. I can’t believe I even have these thoughts; I shouldn’t even be allowed through the door of the support center.