OMGabe

by Gabe Berman – the author of Live Like a Fruit Fly

Live Like A Fruit Fly Epilogue

There’s a young kid on a boat sailing over from Russia.

That kid ends up being my grandfather.

My dad’s dad.

And I sometimes imagine him knowing, right there on that voyage, that his son would inevitably die, awfully, from brain cancer.

And from there I think about what the dead would tell us. If they could talk. Knowing what they know now.

They’d probably say something like, “Lighten the fuck up.”

Continuing with, “Try not to get tangled in situations which make your heart heavy. And don’t try to keep up with the Joneses. They have their own problems you’re just not aware of. And, with that, they’re assholes anyway. Listen up living people, your only responsibility while alive, is to truly live. Because it all ends so fast. Please, for us, truly live. Thank you.”

Easier than it sounds?

Maybe.

Or maybe we need a good old fashioned global intervention of reprioritizing.

Maybe this blog post was written just for you.

– gb

www.LiveLikeAFruitFly.com

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La La Love


“And how amazing was La La Land,” I asked my friend on the phone last night while we were going back and forth about movies.

To my surprise, she said with surprise, “You liked La La Land!?”

“No,” I said with confidence. “I loved it. It’s probably one of my favorites ever.”

“I just didn’t feel Emma Stone in that part,” she explained.

“I hear ya, but I wouldn’t have cared if she was played by a goddamn rhinoceros. It was the way he loved her. That’s all that mattered to me. I couldn’t breathe from him.”

And with that, right there, as I heard myself say those words, I figured out why I loved La La Land so much.

We think we miss being loved. But the truth is, we miss giving love more.

At least that’s the way it is me.

love/thanks,
gb

www.WinTheWarWithYourMind.com

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No Weep Till Brooklyn

I didn’t think I was going to be fine.

But then I knew I was going to be fine when I walked in.

And thankfully I was fine.

Until I wasn’t.

So, I left.

My mom, her boyfriend (which is still so bizarre to say), my dad’s best friend and his wife met for dinner at a Japanese restaurant. I knew they were going to be there so I stopped in to say a quick hello to my dad’s best friend, Davie, because I haven’t seen him since the funeral.

My dad’s funeral (which is still so biblically bizarre to say).

After pretending to be their waiter, I exchanged handshakes with the men and kisses on cheeks with the women.

We chatted innocuously for a bit before Davie said to me, “He’s the Harold I knew growing up. He looks exactly like him as a kid.”

He was referring to a photo my mom showed him of one of her grandsons (my nephew).

Harold is/was my dad’s name. And hearing his best friend since second grade say it, an atomic chain reaction of emotion spread through my soul like a neutron bomb.

I felt my dad behind Davie’s eyes

Hence, I had to get the fuck out of there before I started crying. There was no reason to add heaviness to their lighthearted dinner.

I reached over the table and kissed him on the cheek. He put his hand lovingly behind my head, as my dad would have, and kissed my cheek in return.

I never cried, even once I made outside to the safety of the parking lot, but I’m on the verge right now as I write this

Such is life. Such is death.

(Wait, does this piece just end curtly right here? With no tie-up or catharsis? C’mon man, what else would you like me to say? Of course I could easily say that you should make sure to love your loved ones while you still can. But that, like everything else, will either happen or it won’t. And with that, all I want you to know are these three things: 1. I appreciate you taking the time to read these words. Truly appreciate it. 2. I love you, whoever the hell you are. For real.
3. The reality we think is real, isn’t. So, take everything with a grain of salt. But you’ll only do that if you’re caused to. Noodle baked yet? It doesn’t matter. Just know that I love you. Yes, you, you dumb bastard. The person reading these words right now).

www.WinTheWarWithYourMind.com

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Love Love Land

Have you seen La La Land yet?

If you haven’t, let me tell you, pay no mind to anything you’ve heard.

It isn’t good.

It isn’t bad.

It’s this:

Exquisite.

An exquisite flow of beauty in celluloid form.

It’s so lovely, and so soulful, I would bet it single handedly balances out the ugliness casting a dark shadow on our lives lately.

Without it, this planet of ours would probably careen off course and spin helplessly into the cold cosmos.

And it’s impossible, at least for someone like me, not to be self reflective while witnessing it unfold like flowers in bloom on screen.

Here’s the thing: I know one day my life in this form will end. And if it’s looked back upon by others, my accomplishments may not amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.

But do not be deceived.

For I have loved.

Loved limitlessly, without conditions.

And I have stood in awe of love. Time and time again.

It’s truly the only thing that matters.

Fuck all who say otherwise.

– gb

www.WinTheWarWithYourMind.com

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Keys and Doors.

And now for the most unromantic thing you’ll ever hear:

I know of a couple, both in their twenties, who were watching TV together.

It was a cold Brooklyn night and he was suffering with terrible allergies so he really didn’t feel like walking her home after.

In response to his not so serious bellyaching, she said, “Well, if we lived in the same place, you wouldn’t have to.”

They got married three weeks later.

Just. Like. That.

And today, my parents, would be celebrating their 48th anniversary.

I miss my dad so damn thoroughly.

His absence from my existence tugs at me, unrelentingly, like the rough ocean undertow.

Such is life.

And such is death. It blindsides the living.

With that, a great man and a good friend of mine died today.

Alan Colmes.

He was the only liberal on Fox News and he sometimes played their punching bag.

Which was fine with him because he stood firmly for justice, a healed planet, and the well being of all.

But underneath his political life, right underneath it, he was a spiritual seeker. On the quest for the holy grail of a peaceful mind.

That’s how we met. Many years ago. After he read Live Like A Fruit Fly.

And now, unfortunately, on February 23rd 2017, on my parent’s wedding anniversary, he’s become the poster child for my book which he so enjoyed.

Alan was just sixty-six. He loved his wife ferociously.

May he rest in peace.

So, moving right along with this meandering stream of cosmically unplanned flow of words and spaces, my sister was just in town and she and my mom invited me to go to an indoor flea market with them.

No thanks.

I stayed home.

I didn’t go because the last time I was there, I sat across from my dad in the food court as he handed over his car keys to me.

It was like a veteran police officer relinquishing his badge and gun.

I didn’t know at the time, but that moment would turn out to be the first of countless horrifying ones with him.

His double vision was getting worse and that drive to the flea market was the last time he sat behind the wheel of a car.

He was dead in eleven months. Brain tumor.

Looking back, and hearing about Alan’s passing today, it seems like Life delivers varying degrees of awfulness until we wake up.

Until we wake up to the gift of worrying less.

Worrying less about what truly does not matter.

Because it’s all just going to end anyway. Whether we pretend it won’t or not.

From this point on, I hope to be caused to hold on to this gift more often

Much more often.

And I hope the exact same for you. Yes, you. The person reading this right now.

I’ll close now with a hopeful quote I’ve closed with before. It was said by Ray Manzarek. The keyboard player for The Doors who has also since passed.

“‘The world on you depends, our life will never end.’ The ultimate statement. Our life will never end. And the ancient Egyptians used to say that if you say a man’s name, he is alive. So I take this opportunity to say Jim Morrison.”

And I take this opportunity to say Alan Colmes. And Harold Berman.

love/thanks,
gb

“Meet the new generation of consciousness-raising. Gabe’s simple, yet profound message can be a life-changer.” Live Like A Fruit Fly
―Alan Colmes, Nationally Syndicated Radio Host

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Love Looks Like This

​​

get the book –

love looks like this 

The Toggle Switch

This moment is either filled with stress 

or with lightheartedness. 

Who’s to know? 

Who is there to know? 

No one. 

And both will pass regardless.  
– gb

Our Own Worst Enemy

HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF WOMEN AND MEN HAVE DIED TO PROTECT THE UNITED STATES FROM THE TYRANY TAKING OVER THE COUNTRY TODAY. 

The love of money, and undeniably that’s all this comes to, has defeated the Love of Love.

For now. 

Regardless, all we can do is hope for the best. 
But, We. Get. What. We. Deserve – a womanizing elitist, who publicly mocks the handicapped, who used fear and lies (which any fifth grader with Google could fact check) to get elected illegally with the help of the Russians. 

I am truly heartbroken….

www.DoYouNeedaMiracle.com

Wham! Bam Thank You Ma’am. 

George Michael – 53 years old.

Carrie Fisher – 60 years old.

What could be more tragic?

Maybe the 18,000 children who die from starvation on this planet of ours.

Yearly?

No, daily.

Eighteen thousand. Kids. Dead. From not eating enough.

Everyday.

Day after day after day after day after day after day…

And we don’t hear a single squeak about it, do we?

That’s six 9/11’s. Everyday.

But just keep giving us our football and our name brands and our “lock her up”, and we’ll continue to keep our compassion reserved only for the rich and famous and friends and family.

So, what should we do about this?

I have no idea.

I just do what I can, when I can.

But I can assure you of two things:

1. If the majority of the world’s leaders wanted to end world hunger, it would be over before the rooster crows. I mean, c’mon – we put a man on the moon in 1969 for Christ’s sake. With less computing power than my goddamn iPhone. Trust me, we can figure this out. Today. If we only wanted to.

2. Electing a hate-group endorsed, silver spooned, self serving, elitist to lead the free world will not help a single soul who’s currently experiencing complete cellular failure due to malnutrition – i.e. starving to fucking death.

Thank god for you dear reader.

Thank god for you.

– gb

“Vote Republican,” said Jesus Never.

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Day 3 After The Election

I know this isn’t the best pic ever. 

But I was in the car, on the phone with a friend, talking about how our country was hijacked, now officially, by hate and greed and fear and ignorance. And I was asked if I still believe in miracles in light of all of this. 

It was then I looked to the right and saw the majesty of this sky. And I was in awe. 



Yes, I still believe in miracles. I expect nothing else. 



I’ve seen too many of them. 
And not just pretty skies. I’m talking about miraculous healings. 



Of body and spirit. 



I have lost my faith in my country and in many people, but I will never lose my faith in divine will.



– gb


www.LiveLikeAFruitFly.com

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