by anthony

I live in LA now.  The cliché name for it is The City of Angels.  It actually looks better if it’s in italics.  The City of Angels.  When I’m alone at night, thinking about what I gave up to be here, what I’m achieving here, I keep thinking about the vastly different direction my life has taken from where I thought it would go when I was a small child.

I have to confess that I have been numb lately.  I have not written, I have not created much of anything.  All business, all the time.

I am thirty-one now, and, although I honestly do believe that age, as a tangible entity, does not exist, if I am to truly believe in the soul, and that the soul is infinitely part of the universe, then I know that it is impossible for the soul to age.  It can’t get “older” in the traditional sense that we believe.  In our language, the word older simply is a synonym for closer to death.

I prefer to believe that we progress through time rather than get older.

I am thirty-one and I think about my childhood as a fable now.  It is a story about a boy, and I have earned the right to write it any way I want.

For me, that’s the difficult thing about being where I am in my progression.  It is the first time in my life that I have had to be aware of where I am now and understand that, until now, that life was just the beginning.  The car was still on the tracks at Disneyland.  I’ve taken the boat into open waters, though.

I understand that memories are not facts carved in stone.  Memories are simply stories about the paths that got me to where I am.  Today, I will be in a different place than 2 weeks from now.  So, the story of how I got there will also be different.

What I have learned from this life so far is that, in the short term, everything matters.  Every nuance, every smell, every heartbeat skip.  All the pain and all the angst and all the joy.  It all matters more than everything else.  But, when years have passed, and I look back on it, relive it, I realize that those details of living in the moment become just millions of tiny stars that create the endless night sky.  My story is whatever I want it to be, and, with the understanding that my past is not gone but, in contrast, very active in my daily life, I can now do with it whatever it is I want.

That’s the draw of Los Angeles.  That’s the lure of this seductress.  I have now stayed with her long enough to know that this isn’t an act.  We are raised with so many prejudices, so many things to hold judgments about and this city is home base for us misfits.  It’s Iceland in a brave new world.   It’s a place where it is ok to be whoever it is you want to be.  Because, they’ll take care of you.  Somewhere, surfing the breeze from the Pacific, the angels got my back.  This is The City of Angels.  It has to be.  The other reality that people are creating is just too unhealthy, too ugly.

I prefer to know what I know because I know that, from now on, I’m connected to something else, something higher…myself.  And I will never be alone again.