Barcelona or Bust! - C. C.

 I was spending my summer visiting family in Portugal when my Brazilian ex boyfriend asked me to come visit him in Barcelona. We had a pretty crazy summer the year before, not expecting to fall in love, but we fell hard.

That first summer (2006), I was working at a bar above the beach when my friends introduced me to a very cute boy. They wrote in English on a piece of paper and had him say it out loud. He didn’t speak English. The words were “I fancy you”. When I repeated back what he said in Portuguese so he understood, he turned bright red! A couple days later his friend asked me out for him, and I said no. By the end of the game that day (the World Cup was happening in Germany and our bar covered all the games), he was begging me to go out with his primo (his cousin). So, I challenged him and said, “Ok, if he meets me at Bar Lotus down the street after my shift, I’ll consider it.”

I was actually kind of nervous walking to the bar after my shift, not knowing if he would be there. He was.

He looked super uncomfortable and out of his element. But, that started a summer romance where communication was key, because he didn’t speak English and my Português was rough. Fast forward to summer 2007, I had started seeing someone back home, but always wondered about my Brazilian guy. We had kept in touch over the year with conversations here and there, but when he asked me to come to Barcelona I was hesitant. I told the guy back home about him so he knew there might be an opportunity for closure, but it depended on me flying across Spain to get it. So...”FUCK IT, YES!”, I went.

It was the longest 11 days of my life. I was bored out of my mind, it took about 45 min to get into the city, and the most exciting thing that happened was when I was out alone in the city meeting with friends and trying to get back to his apt. The only reason I figured out where to go was from church bells leading my way! We had a night where we hashed everything out and I realized he was a liar. But I definitely got the closure I needed.

It only took me another FIVE YEARS to really get over him. But once I did, I realized I had used that love as a crutch, thinking nothing could get better than that first summer. But I was wrong. Real love is so different, so much deeper.

So “FUCK IT, YES!” has been a motto of mine for a long time. No regrets!

"34 Days Sober" -David LaMarr

So... I started taking a mood stabilizer today after meeting with my therapist, Dr. David (that's his name, lol) who says that it'll take about 6 weeks to start really working it's magic. We decided that this would be a step in the right direction. There's so much rage pent up inside me that every little thing is starting to bother me. My mood swings are getting worse. I'm lashing out at work, at random people on the subway, at the ones I love... I'm tired of feeling out of control.

Dr. David said the pill is like a car. Cars do not drive us; we drive the car. I'm trying to reach a destination. I could walk...but that's leaving me VERY tired. So I'm gonna start driving. Not sure how long the drive will be but I'm going to try and enjoy the view along the way.

Today also marks 34 days of being sober: no alcohol or Mary Jane. I haven't been going to meetings. Not really focused on that right now. Yoga has sort of become the thing I do to make sure I stay mentally & spiritually focused. For now, that's what works & I'm ok with that. Just do what works. I have no desire to drink or smoke... I want to be the best version of me for the rest of my life.

Ever since I found out I'm HIV positive, I've become focused on detoxifying my mind, body & soul. I'm tired of abusing myself. I dealt with a lot growing up & I've chosen for years to try and run away from all that. It's time I own who I am & where I come from. The reckless years are over.

Honestly, I’m 'bout to miss out on a lot of shit trying to get my own shit together. Folks might be mad at me but all I can say is: I'm a beautiful work in progress.

I read this today:
"self-control is strength. calmness is mastery. you have to get to a point where your mood doesn't shift based on the insignificant actions of someone else. don't allow others to control the direction of your life. don't allow your emotions to overpower your intelligence."

That's where I'm headed. ✌

I'm on a JOURNEY, y'all. And along the way, I'm learning how to love ALL of me. Not just bits and pieces.

I want to love myself so much that I GLOW from the inside out.

I want to attract people who love, respect & appreciate my energy.

I want to be magnetic.

Everything starts with how you feel about yourself.

I'm worthy
I'm valuable
I'm deserving of receiving the best that life has to offer.

Thanks for reading & thanks for loving.

Xoxo

-David LaMarr NYC

"SOMETIMES IT DOES FEEL LIKE I'M ON ACID" - Anna Fehling

Sometimes it does feels like I'm on acid, the world lights up, everything is so vivid, a glowing white bird flotes into my view, reminding me of a sister who has passed. There are times when God speaks into my ear, "Stay three car lengths back." I say, outloud "okay." The utility truck in front of me takes off, the doors opens, and out flies a tool chest and it explodes in front of me. I had asked God that morning for an intuitive thought to get me through my day. 
Yesterday I drove straight to a thrift store, walked right to the book section and grabbed a book, bought it and bought it home. It's on my lap right now. I'm reading about enlightenment, it says "Consider that you already have it right now, that you were born with it. It's right here, in you, waiting for you to wake up to it. To be about what you really want in life, in your heart of hearts, you only need to give up what ever is standing in your way. I like that!

-Anna Fehling, CA

"THE SECOND STRING ON MY BOW" -Dan Whipple

As a child, I was given a violin to play in school. I liked the violin and played it in the school orchestra through middle school . Then I played it now and then in high school for my own pleasure, but eventually put it down for a rest. About a 40 year rest. The year I was to retire from the post office, my son found my old violin while we were cleaning out the garage. He asked, who plays this? I told him of my earlier violin playing. My son asked why I wasn't playing now. I said I had not played for years and that time was in the past. He decided with his girl friend at the time and my other children that they would purchase a violin for me the Christmas that I retired. What else did I have to do? I was so discouraged when I picked it up. I had trouble playing on one string at a time. What had my children done to me? But they were right. What else did I have to do. Fuck it, Yes! I started to practice about four days a week for multiple hours a day. There were days that I practiced for 8 hrs. My wife was really happy that she was working at the time so that she didn’t have to listen to what sounded more like howling cats than a violin being played. For almost a year I practiced. My best friend was in an Irish band and said they were looking for a new fiddle player and would I like to audition?I told him he was nuts. That I was not nearly good enough. He said, well, let me be the judge of that. Keep in mind I did not play in front of anyone at that time but I agreed to play for him. He said I was indeed good enough, come audition. I reluctantly agreed and went to the audition. Did I mention that I had not played for anyone else at that time. Sooo nervous. But I said”Fuck it! Yes! and off I went to the audition. We play regularly and have three albums out and working on a fourth. I now teach music part time at a high school nearby. I get paid to do what I love! Fuck it, yes!

"RAMONE" -Courtney Leigh Halford

Tonight took an emotional turn. As I was walking down the street, a sweet old man in his 80's tripped, fell, & hit his head pretty hard. He couldn't sit up, was sobbing, & was in a lot of pain. We called the ambulance THREE TIMES before they arrived 45 minutes later. 6 women, including me, stayed with him the whole time. 
He started panicking 10 minutes in, so I took off my coat, wrapped him in it, held his hand & his head, then sang to him. He talked about how much he loved watching 'Cinderella' & 'The Sound of Music' in the 60's while living in Puerto Rico, so I sang him those songs. Many people stopped & checked in.
When the EMTs finally arrived & packed him into the ambulance, Ramone cried, kissed my hands, & thanked me for being his angel. As they drove away, we all hugged each other & cried, before we parted. 
There are so many things we can't control in this world...but we each used our separate gifts to come together and take care of this person in need. It didn't cost us anything...except time & maybe being a bit cold for a while. It was a beautiful New York moment & reminded me there’s still good in humanity. Now that my adrenaline is wearing off, I'm gonna try to enjoy the Super Bowl & thaw out. Have a good night, & be safe, friends!

-Courtney Leigh Halford, NYC

"I WANT YOU TO WANT ME" -Christopher Whipple

My wife and I split up a few years ago. I had believed in almost nothing more than I had believed in us, and then suddenly, out of nowhere, I was wrong. If all the things I thought were right could be wrong, and so many things that I thought were wrong could quite possibly be right, how the hell was I supposed to tell right from wrong…right?! What’s healthy? What’s not?  What is “acceptable”? It rocked my world, undid my faith, and I found myself in a spiral of drugs, booze, and loneliness. I was drowning. Sober got harder by the day. Sober, I didn’t want to get out of bed. High, I didn’t want to get into it. Just high, surrounded by stars with no desire to reach for any of them, and my whole life started to feel wasted on false dreams, false hope, false faith… lost. At a loss for what to do, one day I called up my best friend, Choncho.

“I have so many questions, I don’t have any answers.”

“Chrip (he calls me Chrip), neither do I, but I do have an idea. There’s this place, a civilization of transcendence, an experiment of community and art, a world of immediacy, radical self reliance, radical self expression, and inclusion...Burning Man!”

I drained my savings account for a plane ticket, an entrance ticket, and a yurt. I packed two suitcases full of scarves, glittery booty shorts, and Kellog’s Lucky Charms, I slung a guitar over my shoulder, and I was off! Not my guitar, my ex wife’s guitar. I gave it to her when we started dating thinking I was going to give her lessons. I never did. When we split seven years later, I couldn’t bear to let it go, so I brought it with me.

Our truck skipped over the playa dust to the greeters gate and my heart skipped a beat. They welcomed me home. I’d never been here before but still they said welcome home. I didn’t know any of these people. They didn’t know me. I didn’t buy it. There was no denying that it was fun, but their behavior with a stranger was so personal that it had to be impersonal; an insincere intimacy. It had to be fake.

However, one particular night at sunset I rode my beat up old bicycle, blinking and flashing like a busted old spaceship during Christmas, out into the middle of this barren wasteland of dust storms and hippies. Surrounded by incredible and enormous structures of steel, fire, and artificial and fantastic light, I found myself drawn towards an immense pyramid right in the middle of it all. The sun was setting behind it, her rays scattered by the beams of wood that made up this Egyptian monolithic creation, painting the expanse of the desert dust with with her own true, brilliant, and fading light. I had the guitar slung over my shoulder; my own personal symbol of failure.  I walked inside to find the walls saturated with knick knacks, photographs, and hand written notes of sadness and loss. But also joy, intentions, and courage. People stood or sat, smiling or crying, alone or embracing, holding hands, and letting go. It was beautiful. And emotionally, I was untouched by all of it. I was afraid of feeling. I was afraid of what those feelings might mean. I was afraid it was going to hurt. God, I hated my fear. So I thought, fuck it. Get naked.

An old familiar voice popped up in my head.

“No, nobody wants that.”

I took off my head scarf.

“Stop this.  It’s inappropriate. Nobody wants to see you naked.”

I took off my shirt.

“You’re embarrassing.”

I slid off my boots.

“This place isn’t about you. Nobody is interested in you because you’re not good enough… because you’re fake. You’ve always been fake. You were fake growing up in California, you were fake in New York, you were fake in your marriage, and you’re fake here. Because, the real you isn’t worth it.”

I slid off my booty shorts.

And there I was, stark naked, standing next to a neatly folded pile of my clothes.  I lay down on the playa floor and stared at the fading light coming in through the hole at the top of the pyramid, forced myself to just lie there and face my shame, and I cried. Not the soft misty tears of melancholy, but the choking sobs of a child. Eventually I wore myself out, but still I continued to lay there, staring up as the end of the light died. I have no idea how long I was splayed upon the dust, but when I finally lifted my head I found I was surrounded by people… holding hands in a circle around me. They were all just… looking at me. But their eyes were full of love, or a least acceptance.  

So much of my life I’ve believed in other people, loved other people, forgiven other people, but not out of kindness; not out of selflessness. It was because it was easier than believing in myself. It was easier than forgiving myself. I got up, looked each person in the eyes, got dressed, and walked out. I left the guitar. Later that night I watched as they lit the whole thing on fire, the guitar burning along with all of the intentions left inside, their smoke and ashes rising together to the stars, and I said goodbye.  It’s time for me to want me.

-Christopher Whipple, NYC