Origins of Depression

Pain, tears, emptiness, alone, stupid, no friends, sick, helpless, shit, loser, alienated. Painful words to a nine year old boy: "Don't eat in the fucking living room! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME???"

"Yes, I understand" :((

A Sublime Day

I'll never forget an experience that I had on one particular day back in early 1996. Although I didn't think much of it at the time, it will forever be a part of me. Please read on...

It happened at Sunset Beach in Orange County, California. I had driven down there early in the morning to go surfing, and an amazing day of surfing it was. A thing that really appealed to me about that day was how empty the beach was. It was during the middle of the week, like on a Tuesday or Wednesday, and almost nobody was out on that day - I basically had a nice chunk of the beach all to myself.  

After surfing and relaxing on the sand for several hours, I grabbed my surfboard and started walking down the beach to where I parked my car. As I was walking, I noticed a girl sunbathing on the beach, with a beautiful dalmatian dog jumping around near her. I stopped near where the dalmatian was playing, just to check it out, and within minutes of doing so, a man approached me. We entered into a polite conversation. To be honest, I really can't remember what we talked about at first. 

What I do remember though, is a certain question that he asked me. He asked me, "Have you heard of my band?" When I asked him what the name of his band was, he replied, "Sublime." I was standing on the beach, taking to Bradley Nowell of Sublime. It was him, his girlfriend or wife or friend (I'm not really sure) lying nearby, his dog, and me... with nobody else around! I didn't really know who he was at the time, although the name of his band sounded familiar to me. I didn't realize that I was standing next to a musical genius, and someone who would be immortalized into the Southern California music/surfing scene. 

After he told me about his band, we began talking about the surf conditions for that day. I remember him saying, "If there was only a good swell, today would be epic." Shortly after that, he excused himself and went to his house, which was near the beach, to get his surfboard. He then hit the waves. As I began to walk back to my car, I remember watching him and seeing him catch a wave and ride it into shore. He was a good surfer. 

True story. 

The Caffeine Dealer

Blake, the original fucker of the west, raises his hand with the fury and confidence of a double dog dragon. With two fingers extended into the air, and two connected to the thumb—the image of Satan emerges. Even though Blake is in his mid thirties, jobless, and without any hope of achieving a stable life (what the fuck is a “stable” life anyway?), the nectar of the gods, the mighty coffee extract, takes over his soul. The coffee masks his fears and his inadequacies, providing him with a sense of life anew, reminiscent of a time when anything was still possible. But, there is no escaping the equilibrium of despair—for as the warmth of the coffee mug fades, so his helplessness returns.

Blake walks down Market Street, pissed about something that he can’t quite articulate.  The frail cries of panhandlers, the metallic buzzing of streetcars, and a thousand useless voices pierce his skull like a true San Francisco symphony – only of the darker sort. An empty plastic soda bottle in the gutter, wet, crushed, and covered with city scum, catches his eye. The voice of reason, buzzing inside his head like a horny and wise little fly, urges him to pick it up and cash it in. Reason, however, is a virtue that Blake has little time for. 

Who is Blake? Do you really give a fuck? If you do, well then, read on.

To the everyday observer, Blake may appear to be somewhat of a slacker. Although long since abandoned by youth, he continues to swim in a youthful abyss. Worn out jeans, zip up sweaters with occasional coffee stains, and converse all stars are his uniform of choice. Do I need to say more? 

Welcome, Friends...

Well, I don't have any friends yet, but when I do, I offer a heart felt hello. "Hello!"

This is my first attempt at "blogging." And this is my very first entry. I'm not sure where this is going to take me, how long it will last, or whether or not those who follow along will be interested in what I have to say. I don't have any agenda, nor do I have any plans of what I'm going to write about. Most of this will be free writing, made up on the spot. Interspersed within that, I will share little stores from my life. Some of them you may not believe; some of them might lead you to think that I'm insane, etc, etc, blah, blah. Just sit back and enjoy.

Thank you for reading. There's more to come...