Between the Tweets

[blackbirdpie url=”!/Zen_Moments/status/198918548247166977″]

I follow a lot of people on Twitter and filtering through the negativity to find something positive can be quite challenging at times. Not that the people I follow are bad in any way, it’s just a form of venting and I can understand that. We all have our bad days but it seems that digital courage gives people an overwhelming need to be negative. Rather than just ignore the things that bother them, it seems Twitter has become the favorite dumping ground for a bad day, a chip on the shoulder, or a weakness in the armor of ego.

No matter what, I seem to find that @Zen_Moments, seems to have great quotes, inspiration and an overall general vibe. Good enough that I decided to create a blog post suggesting to follow them, and you can see how challenging a blog post is for me at times.

Midnight in Paris…or Los Angeles…

The creativity I conjure up that I am most proud of, often comes to me while wandering the empty streets at a time when seemingly nobody else is awake.
Sometimes walking, sometimes skateboarding, sometimes driving around with the windows down, music up and heater cranked up, but almost always at an hour in which any normal person would be sleeping. Although I do write about sports, sneakers, and randomly ramble about randomness, writing for myself, and a few loving souls I’ve shared intimate relationships with, is an escape for me. It gives me a sense of comfort and relaxation that very few experiences in life have compared.

Tonight I watched Midnight in Paris for the second or third time. It’s quickly becoming one of my favorite movies for countless reasons. I can completely relate to the character of Gil played by Owen Wilson in many ways. The naivete of Gil in his relationship, the romanticist or idealist aspects of him, and the amazingness he can find within his own mind in the middle of the night while walking the streets in Paris, are all familiar to me in my own life experience. Even fantasizing about another era in time and feeling like I don’t fit in to the current world is typical for me.

Each time I watch it, something new sticks with me. Tonight, the brief speech by the character of Ernest Hemingway on the relationship between fear of death and the experience of love was a staying point in my mind.

Ernest Hemingway: Have you ever made love to a truly great woman?

Gil: Actually, my fiancé is pretty sexy.

Ernest Hemingway: And when you make love to her you feel true and beautiful passion. And you for at least that moment lose your fear of death.

Gil: No, that doesn’t happen.

Ernest Hemingway: I believe that love that is true and real, creates a respite from death. All cowardice comes from not loving or not loving well, which is the same thing. And then the man who is brave and true looks death squarely in the face, like some rhino-hunters I know or Belmonte, who is truly brave… It is because they make love with sufficient passion, to push death out of their minds… until it returns, as it does, to all men… and then you must make really good love again.

The idea of making love, whether in the physical, spiritual, or emotional sense, providing courage to proceed in life without fear is a beautiful truth. It’s essentially the same refocusing I went to San Francisco for.

Watching the movie has me wanting to go to Paris. So in the next week or so, I’m going to get my passport. You know, just in case…


you really never know what opportunity will present itself when you put it out there.

More to come…

pic from


One Thing I Suck At…

No, I don’t suck at giving up. That’s actually something I’d consider myself above average at. I’ll hold on to hope and possibility well past all reasonableness.

I suck at hiding my emotions. I’d never be a good poker player because I wear my heart on my sleeve. The closer someone is to me or the better they know me, the easier it is for them to see every last thought written on my face.

It’s not often that I mind that someone can tell that something is on my mind, or whether something makes me happy or sad. It pretty much never bothers me actually, it’s just how I am. However, the last thing I want to do is make someone feel as if their efforts aren’t good enough. This is the only time I wish I could hide the emotions written boldly across my face because I think the interpretation of my emotions is actually exponentially multiplied when translated by someone other than myself. Weird, I know, but it’s similar to my expectations of myself compared to my expectations in others.

I expect perfection from myself, nothing less. I realize that’s unattainable but as long as I’m alive, it will be what I strive for. However, when it comes to my expectations from those around me, their best efforts are always good enough, I don’t expect perfection. I do believe in their ability to accomplish absolutely anything they desire in this world but I don’t expect them to be as hard on themselves as I would be on myself.

Two people I cherish having in my life, told me today that I’m too hard on myself and now I’m laying in bed trying to wrap my head around it because my heart surely can’t understand it.

And the thing that came to mind when they each said it to me was this bumper sticker. I guess I need to figure out for myself what the difference between giving up and giving in to reality is in my life.

Perhaps it’s time for me to start wearing my Guy Fawkes mask. 🙂