Saturday, June 18, 2016

How To Move Forward

I forgot my writing book in the cafe.

I knew I could replace it, but I felt irresponsible.

I called one of the barista's and they hadn't seen it.

Tomorrow I would just buy a new book.

Henry (a barista) called me back, they found it.

Relief.

I was happy they found it, but more happy that I lost it.

I didn't care too deeply.

I went into the cafe today and ate breakfast.

I enjoyed it so much, it may become a new routine.

Today I learned leaving stuff behind isn't always so bad.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Dear Josh



Life is too short for violence.

Violence toward ourselves. Violence toward others.

Petty disagreements take time. Time away from Love, from health.

The heart is to be nurtured. Proper nutrition. Both the food we put in and the ideas we allow in.

I am an addict, but I connect. People, events, realities.

I am by no means perfect, I have hurt many.

We all want joy. We all want to be loved. We all want to be hugged.

When you feel angst toward someone, remember they too desire love.

Step back if you must, or embrace them tightly.

Do not complain about either choice. Do not put that on anyone else.

Create, love, uplift.

Support your brother and sister, do not tear the down.

Do not invest in anger, it's simply an emotion. It comes and goes, acknowledge it.

Learn from it Then find a way to help someone else up the mountain. Spend your life at the base and continue turning around helping everyone up. Plenty of people have done it for you.

I love you.

Sincerely,
you.

How Chess Teaches You Survival


"If you take a nigga's Queen, you taking his bitch, watch him fall apart" -- The RZA speaking on Chess and life.
I have two friends that I know if I take their Queen's, its almost guaranteed they will begin giving up pieces out of frustration.

The Queen is a powerful piece, but it isn't necessary to win a game.
Nor does it determine defeat.
I've lived life like this many times before.
I lose a love, I dislike my job, I stop speaking to a friend.
I give it all up.
Chess is great because it trains you to kill with out having to kill anyone.
More importantly, it teaches you how to survive.
You can't always win, the real world just doesn't work this way.
But if you are skilled in survival, chances are, you can learn.
White belts in Jiu Jitsu are told breathe, relax, and listen.

No point in trying to beat a more experienced jiu jitsu/chess player yet.
You learn to survive. Then you can breathe. 5 seconds in, 5 seconds out.
Now you have time to think. Calculate. Take less risks.
I just beat my other friend in chess for the first time. We've played over 40 games maybe. I'll take the 1-40 proudly.
I had to survive through his fast paced attacking in order to understand the game better.
Now I'm a slightly better chess player.
So I think today I'll sit all my inner demons across from me over a chess board, and simply try to survive.
Who knows, maybe I'll win a game or two.

Dear Nicole


Sorry if I've ever lied to you. I lied a lot to myself, so I hope you don't take it personal.
"You're not the Josh I knew a year ago, and it sucks to find out this way."
We're never different people. She just got to see the real actions. The same actions I made at 14, 19, 21, now 26.
Actions that hurt myself. Hurt others. I woke up today and instantly felt grateful. That wasn't the case before.
Hopefully we'll be friends again. And you'll be okay with the real me. The real me doesn't like hurting people. The real me wants to stop lying.
Today the real me is being honest.

Thursday, June 9, 2016

"You're just a confused, selfish human being. I don't hate you."

Those were her words to me.

I've been in love three times now. I became suicidal after the first two, and I suppose I have too after this time as well. Except now I'm really trying. Trying to bury the old me. Or current me.

I don't believe I'm a bad person, I just keep making the same mistake over and over.

And it hurts. It hurts me. It hurts the people around me. It hurts my opportunities to be happy.

She said it was a blessing. It's brought her new friendships and relationships. Good for her.

Maybe I can do that for more people without lying to, hurting, and disappointing them first.
Maybe burying myself isn't so bad.

I woke up today. My name is Josh. I am an addict and an author.

I hope my writing can make you smile today without hurting you tomorrow.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

How To Be An Author


Yesterday my 20 year old brother called me out on my bad habits. I read an article recently claiming that addiction may not be a disease, but just bad habits stemming from trauma.
So yes, I am an addict. Addicted to attention, sex, a woman's compliments, addicted to chaos. Be it paying for sex or simply not caring about my living quarters.
I'm not dead so I must being somethings semi right. I accept that I am an addict, but I am many things. I'm also an author.
And today I want to write my story. What happens when I give into the chaos, is I give my pen away, allowing others to write it for me while I sit in autopilot. I can tell you from 10 plus years of experience that this formula leads to nothing but pain and confusion.
So today I want to write a different formula (life is one big experiment).





I know if I wake up early, not check my phone, get up and work out, I feel good.


I also need to list 5 specific things I am grateful for.


I need to flex my creative muscles, be marketing for this film, working on my project, listening to an album, or playing chess. The more time I give myself, the more creative I can get.



I need to strengthen my positive relationships. With friends and family.

If I am not doing these things, every single day, I am handing my pen over. That isn't the story I want to tell anymore.

Saturday, January 9, 2016

The Art of Painting

"It's important in a different way. Unlike before where I "needed" this. Right now you are a part of it all. The picture I am painting. The Joy. No sorrow. No pain. And if pain comes along, I know to keep painting and never stop. That is life."

Life is a canvas and picture is never finished until we stop painting.

How we hold the paint brush, what colors we choose, the strokes we take, the collaborations, the amount we paint, is entirely up to us.

Sometimes we walk away from our canvas.

What do we do?

Sometimes we sit at tables and yell at people. We shout. We get offended. We feel compelled to push our beliefs. We laugh at others. We laugh at ourselves. We cry. Sometimes we walk away from that table. We sit at other people's tables.

We no longer follow our hearts. We sit in on conversations. Other beliefs. Other people's problems. We become fully present for these issues. These insecurities. We make homes at these tables. Maybe the table gets full or lonely, so we wander onto the next table.

We lose sight of our canvas. We forget what made us happy.

The art of painting.

Does it matter that we finish it?

Let's assume this is a very large canvas. We only have a limited time to paint our joys.

We can continue sitting at these tables with our pain, our suffering, our past.

The tables make good for talking. Not much action is needed.

Who know's how long these tables can support all of our problems.

I walk back to the canvas. I paint a little today. I work on my masterpiece. Except I'm not sure what defines a great artist so I just do what makes me happy. A little bit at a time.

I can appreciate the process.

The art of painting.