(This photo was captured around 5:30 PM at "Paris Morning Bakery" in Boca Raton).
With my book bag strapped to my back, I began my walk from my college campus towards an acclaimed place. The distance? 4.7 miles.
Little did I know that the smooth path I was travelling upon would suddenly cease to exist about a mile from the bakery. So I retreated a little way as I sought to embark upon another sidewalk.
The alternate trail was an aged and beaten path which led me true. Though I accidentally left the bakery quite a ways behind before I realized that I had missed a turn.
I glowed (from sweat) when I finally crossed the threshold to Paris Morning Bakery. I walked towards the counter with my hair styled by the blustery wind and was impressed by the server's professionalism despite my peculiar appearance of a Boca Raton backpacker.
I ordered a mango smoothie bubble tea and I was astonished when I took my first sip.
My prize didn't justify the journey since I would have walked twice the distance just to drink this smoothie. It is the best smoothie I have ever experienced.
In honor of President's Day, I shall share with you a story about George and Harry. This true story is 100% disputed.
December 25th, 1777
General George and his men are on one of Pennsylvania's shores. They are about to cruise across the Delaware to throw a surprise for their rivals in New Jersey. George observes his downcast troops who are shivering from the brutal weather. He walks over to the rear of his boat to where Harry the artillery chief is sitting. Harry looks at George as he approaches, perhaps ready to follow battle commands...
George Washington hollers, "Shift your fat ass Harry, before you swamp the damn boat!"
Harry might be crying but if he is, it is from laughter. He and the troops are guffawing as they set off for New Jersey. Their spirits are lifted.
My alarm is on one side of my room while my bed is on the other side. That way, I have to get out of bed when my alarm goes off. After I turn off my alarm, I'm refreshed and ready to go since I have arisen from my place of slumber. I'm joking. I turn off my alarm and go back to bed.
Then I'll often spend 10 to 20 minutes in bed as I scroll through my phone, delaying the inevitable; pissed off at my alarm and internally whining about my predicament before I arise again.
To be utterly honest, this usually happens merely twice a week since I can often sleep in during the other days.
Narrator: Charlie decided to wear a scarlet shirt today. Too late, he remembered that red is the mascot color for Valentine's Day. Charlie is a nincompoop and his despondency is soap opera worthy. He's sitting on a bench underneath the blazing sun as he types this on his phone. Let's tune in to what he has to say...
Charlie: "Today has been and continues to be a stark reminder of my near two decade's worth of singleness. I had a girlfriend...once...when I was in first or second grade...my love for her was epic. Epically platonic."
Narrator: Charlie is a nincompoop.
Charlie: "Hey! I am. I would have felt guilty for speaking the truth to her but I should have been honest with her."
Narrator: What else does Charlie have to say as he continues to talk about himself in the third person?
Charlie: "Valentine's Days are perfect holidays for couples, Disney worthy dreams for idealistic singles, and twenty-four hours of enhanced nihilism for imprisoned loners."
Narrator: I told you that Charlie's nihilism is melodramatic. Well, audience, as the curtain is about to close upon this scene, Charlie has one last thing to say to you.
Charlie: "If there's anyone listening, please know that regardless of my situation, I truly am appreciative for the couples out there."
(Charlie bows to emptiness perhaps, as he wonders if he is his only audience).
♦Author's Note: One is unhealthy if they are incapable of laughing at one's self.♦
(Pictured here: A photo of the second edition of my debut paperback and I from 08/24/2016).
As I wrote my first e-Book in 2015, I gave in to this crazy belief that my writings would carry me to the path of fame. I too invested in a delusional assertion that writer's block would never affect me. Well, three [available] publications and several revisions later, I am proud to say that I have definitely made money...though not enough to be taxed for it. Writer's Block also slapped me while I was dozing beneath a blanket of denial and I've been traumatized ever since.
On a serious note though, it is better to succeed by positively touching one life than to receive a surplus of money and wide recognition. Truth is, I have no doubt that my work has influenced at least one person for the better.
Do you and I judge one another other by our temptations or the decisions to give in to those fancies? Do you and I shame each other for one another's struggles in an attempt to deflect from our own insecurities? Or do you and I assist each other because we are not jealous of the other due to our cheap self-esteems? Do you and I love one another without conditions?
Many talk about overcoming the domination of Deprixity (depression and anxiety), yet not what it's like to triumph only to be trampled by his taloned feet. Those who attain victory after each fall can grow weary from what feels like battling a rapidly evolving virus; a storm which eventually collides like a tidal wave upon those lulls of contentment; an immortal hurricane that taunts individuals as it periodically brings them into its center of tranquility...only to slam its wall of ferocity upon them again. This experience is so exhausting that some are tempted to allow the Grim Reaper to carry them towards a freshly dug grave.
So some individuals become careful not to stray too far into the light again because it's a more horrifying experience to suddenly slip and plummet from such a great height than to remain in the canyon. Yet Deprexity can still dig a chasm underneath the feet of those who refuse to climb. So it's best to hope anyways. You see, Hope isn't an enemy but Surrender is.
You may be surprised that Deprixity, in itself, is not a villainous entity either. It is destructive to those whom indulge and refuse to fight (or don't have the support system to fight), the negative thoughts which arrive. Yet there's proof that Deprexity can be a source for creativity, empathy, and inspiration as well: think of Vincent Van Gough, Abe Lincoln, Princess Diana, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Sarah Silverman, Alicia Keys, etc. So those with Deprexity need to ever fight towards courting Hope when her absence is present while others need to assist in their quest if they are able.
We all have struggles and no matter what those are, we all have the ability to lift each other up with heartwarming words.
All of us need to remember that we are never alone, no matter what pain touches our hearts, what thoughts may pass through our souls, or the miles which may lie between us. All of us, no matter the quality of our mental health, have each other and that realization makes a world of difference.