Late Night Rambles 

What the fuck am I so afraid of? Every person has a story, a history, a future and the power to act. Every day brings with it millions of opportunities for life to go one way or the other. It’s all about choices we make and the convuluted act of just going for it. 

We (maybe I should say I, but a collective make it easier to swallow) want to do something. Then, we spend so many days, months and years talking about it instead of acting. What is with human nature that makes us this way? We all know that life is finite, yet we procrastinate carelessly until it’s too late. Only then do some of us wake up and wish we could’ve done it all differently. 
Not me. Not anymore. 

I am going for it. I only have small inklings of what it is, but I will know when I’ve done it. I can feel that is the truth. I’m trusting intuition, finally. 

I am going to explore and do things I’ve never done and see what I come back with, or without. Mind games and tricks can put illusionary limits on capabilities. I am learning to quiet those unneeded thoughts. There’s a whole lot of brain power that I won’t allow to be left unused and potential lingering that needs to be ignited. 
T-3 days until takeoff. 



Evolution-Of-ManOur universal language has become the clicks of a keyboard. Screens stare blankly back at us; they are the eyes that we look at more deeply and for more time than anything else these days. Human connection, intimately and physically, has waned even though we have digital connections with the power to span the entire globe. Babies rattles have been replaced with iPads, children’s books are now phones in their hands, and photography is a filtered expression of what you ate for lunch.How long will it be before we wake up and try to go back to the future?

This unsettling feeling is hard to escape when LED lights shine the truth so undeniably, ubiquitously, unanimously.

Time to shut down to power up.


Last night, I couldn’t get to sleep easily. So, I ended up doing what I typically do, which is the opposite of helpful. I watched a few TED talks, read the news online, and of course, scrolled through Instagram. It got me thinking about the lives that we all put on display for our social media followers. We have this blanket of technology to shield us from having to share everything and divulge the secret parts of life that we’d rather not have anyone know about us. Everyone is guilty of this- hiding the less than popular feelings and attributes of our mental and physical being. I haven’t yet met someone who openly posts everything about their lives, including their less than beautiful pictures and monotonous daily adventures unless they are #sick and want some #sympathy. Even when someone does post a picture without editing it, there is an expected inherent reward they demand by using the hashtag, “nofilter”. It’s as if taking photos without placing an overlay on it is a novel talent rather than the way photos were actually invented to be. Mostly, when people take selfies with that hashtag, it’s supposed to serve as evidence that they are really beautiful, it’s not just Instagram making them look that way.

The filters of this app and many other social media tools is a microcosm of the entire basis of social media- it’s all a facade. In my hours of insomnia, I re-imagined an app that would be like Instagram, but without the filters, in every sense of the word. If you wanted to use it, it’d be to document life like a journal, so people would know both the good and the bad. It’d be life as you saw and experienced it, not life with a X-Pro filter on top. But, would people really be interested in doing that if it didn’t warrant as much popularity? If they had to post themselves going to get their flat tire fixed when it blew out on the freeway the same way that they posted meeting a celebrity at a club? Probably not, because then everyone would realize that we all go through the same ups and downs, at varying degrees.

Realistically, people don’t like sharing or posting the regular or below average parts of life because it messes up the image that everything is perfect; the image we create on our social profiles that our lives are better than the people’s lives who are following us. Sometimes, it’s not even to be put on display for others, but rather for ourselves. We create our lives in social media the way we want to remember them, by ignoring anything that isn’t favorable. If this real-life Instagram did exist, what would your feed look like? Who would you really be- unfiltered selfies and all? I think that kind of digital journal could be used to reflect on the changes we’d like to make for ourselves to improve the lives we live, so that the display is always pure and unfiltered.

Until then, I’ll stick to writing about my lows and posting filtered pictures of my highs.

My Sound of the Union Address

My friend just told me a story about her friend’s three year old who received a party favor. He got a mini chalkboard and his reaction was, “Mommy, why doesn’t my iPad work?” 

This story came just in time as I’ve been considering our future. More specifically, I’ve been tallying the number of tangible items being added to the exponentially growing “extinct” list of our world as time jets into the future.

Something that has always meant a lot to me, and always will, is music. Even more than just the audible symphony that fills me with joy and affects my emotions is the surrounding culture and effect music has on my lifestyle. Not too long ago, I can remember how often I’d go into the now deceased Tower Records with my mom and sister after eating dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. We’d skim through the store, diving through rows of CDs in our respective genres’ aisles. When my mom would kindly oblige to buying the newest CD I had requested off  of the shelf, I vividly remember going home and listening to the CD in its entirety. While I’d listen, I’d find happiness while scrimmaging through the CD sleeve- reading the lyrics, the bios, or just looking at the pictures. Sometimes, if i was lucky, there would be an accompanying poster. 

As I grew older, buying CDs starting losing its allure with the ability to burn my own. Purchasing great album artwork transformed into creating my own directly onto a blank CD. From tagging artists’ names to writing the track lists, I still had the CD to insert into my car’s stereo. When I first got my license, I decided to head back to high school after lunch only to have my first solo drive. I was so eager to hop in and cruise along Ventura, music filling up the body of my car and gracefully escaping through the cracked windows. The first thing I did was insert a recently burned Sublime CD into my stereo, while turning up the volume. (note: Sublime isn’t typically my go- to genre, but what else goes so well with the feeling of freedom under the hot California sun during one’s teen years?!)  While enjoying the ride, I felt on top of the world as it was summertime…”and the living’s easy.”

Now, some may argue that the radio could have done just as good of a job on that ride, but they are wrong. There’s a certain method to one’s music madness. Songs are carefully chosen to match a mood. Or, say if one’s not about to go on their first drive, but rather stay stuck in hours of traffic, songs are chosen to detract and reverse the mood. Thus, CDs played an integral role to be in control of one’s own music destiny, and thus, one’s attitude. Even more so, they played a large role in the entire story telling aspect of music by placing an artist’s vision directly into the hands of the listener. The connection existed in the tangible and well thought out CD packaging, artwork, track list, and overall effort of the listener to go out and buy the CD. We placed a value on art in the only way that our capitalist society knows how to measure something that can’t be numerically measured. That is, by placing a price tag on feelings. 

Nowadays, things have changed, but the overall essence of how I feel about music and moods has remained the same. For example, I can’t even reverse my car without hitting play on my iPod that stays hooked up to the auxiliary in my car, its very own (and by extension, my very own) life support. But before moving the car, I must be sure I have found exactly the right track to groove with my mood.

Although I’ve gone deeper than intended into my point, my gist is simple namely that I feel sorry for my future unborn children. I’m scared they will find a CD of mine and question, “Why is this donut plastic?” I’m sad that they won’t hold newspapers and scramble to the back for the comics on Sunday mornings. It hurts that there are now iPads at restaurants in place of communication with the people who are going to put food on our table. 

Change is good, and innovation is better. But, at what cost? When do we step back and say enough is enough? When do we realize that human interaction is the basis that provides meaning in our potentially meaningless lives? By no means am I implying that I’m not a part of the problem. However, it’s imperative we all take a look at the society that we have a role in creating. We can’t create love with the machines that we rely upon so heavily. So, in hopes of making the world a better place, we need to, as John Legend would say, “take it slow….” because when it comes down to it, we are just ordinary people. 

Simply chaotic

Simply chaotic

Attributing meanings to words that make no sense
Senselessly perceiving reality
Existing in spaces of no dimensions
Thinking on planes creating new visions
Anticipatory actions changing malleable beliefs like a systematic cleansing
Of any wrongdoings
Undoing the fallacious medallions that we’ve indulged forcefully
Coercing the opening of new horizons
Expanding thoughts ballooning into cocoons of incipient creations
Wanting more but doing less–
The nature of our times
The effortless galvanization and obsessions of things we can merely possess
Tangible indecencies fleeting us
Drawing away from our truths and desire
Use the world around to its greatest potential
Tossing status quo aside
the architect of one’s own mental surroundings dynamically
physically being to be simply