He: Well, it’s like a pyramid.
She: Don’t talk to me about pyramids. That guy? That fuckin’ Bernie Madoff? Have you seen the movie with Michelle Pfeifer and Robert DeNiro?
He: That’s not what I mean —
She: — Well, it’s fucked up. And everyone said the movie was shit but I liked it. Anyway.
He: This pyramid is different, Auntie.
She: Different, how?
He: You put your life’s goal at the top and then you backward map.
She: A map?
He: Backward Map!
Continue reading “get milk”
I can hear my heart beating.
I can hear myself laughing at his jokes.
I can smell the curly fries from Jack in the Box as we walk to my house
I can feel our hands shaking, as if we were very nervous.
Oh, wait… we are.
It’s the first time he’s coming over for dinner with my family.
I open the gate to my house, slowly and lead him in.
As I slam the gate, leaves fall down from the tree as if like snow; but sadly, it doesn’t snow in LA.
We stop and turn to each other when we arrive at the door.
I can hear my breathing.
I can feel him shaking.
I look into his eyes and say to him, “Ready?”
From where we’re standing I can hear them laughing from the other side of the door.
I squeeze his hand and he squeezes mine.
I pen the door, as I walk in first.
I smell the sweet apples that are in the basket beside the entrance.
And it started with a “hello.”
First Meet by Angela Hernandez from Before There Were Bars, POPS The Club
I am a new person, I may not be the smartest, but I know what’s right for me. I know my value.
I know the feeling of being alone
I know how it feels to have your heart broken
I know how it feels to lose a parent mentally
I know the feeling of always watching your back from every angle
I know the feeling of being handcuffed — being shoved into a cop car and being treated like a criminal
I know the feeling when you feel the rush in your fists and face but step back because you know what you are capable of doing
I know the feeling of carrying drugs in your backpack and hoping you won’t get caught
I know the feeling of having your own mother cry, and you’re the reason why
I know the feeling of punching the wall
I know the feeling of crying at night and picking yourself up the next day and pretending nothing ever happened
I know the feeling of hopping over the fence fearing either you will get your jeans caught or be chased down
I know the feeling of hitting rock bottom.
I know the feeling of living that double life.
Excerpt: I Put My Life Together by Katherine Secaida from Before There Were Bars, POPS The Club
Is that a habit?
If your instinct is to publish, to share, to instruct, to give away, to engage and to put it into the world, then ‘save as draft’ is a rare thing.
On the other hand, if you find yourself noodling then putting aside, waiting for perfect, you’re on track to be waiting for a very long time.
We get what we invest in. The time we spend comes back, with interest.
If you practice five minutes of new, difficult banjo music every day, you’ll become a better banjo player. If you spend a little bit more time each day whining or feeling ashamed, that behavior will become part of you. The words you type, the people you hang with, the media you consume…
The difference between who you are now and who you were five years ago is largely due to how you’ve spent your time along the way.
The habits we groove become who we are, one minute at a time. A small thing, repeated, is not a small thing.
[And the same thing is true for brands, organizations and movements.]