OMGabe

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

Love Sounds Like?

  
The loveliest book you’ll ever own:

Love Looks Like This

So many caring people. It’s the reason for suffering. To give others the opportunity to care.

“So many caring people. It’s the reason for suffering. To give others the opportunity to care.”

Normally, I would have ended a post with a line like that, but this one is just too damn significant and too damn beautiful for anything less than top billing.

And now, with that, I don’t even feel like explaining it’s origin anymore.

So, I won’t.

I’ll just say it again, and pray that it marinates in the minds of those who may see this.

Truth or not, it’s a lovely perspective on this often unfortunate life of ours.

“So many caring people. It’s the reason for suffering. To give others the opportunity to care.”

love/thanks,
gabe

explanation – please, please click and give if/what you can:
https://www.gofundme.com/alifeboat4eric

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“Mr. Nobody”

“I’m not afraid of death. I’m afraid I haven’t been alive enough.”

I sat on the edge of my bed – totally petrified.

Not frightened, but silent and still, like stone. Mesmerized by that quote above.

I heard it at the end of a movie trailer I was watching on my phone just a moment before.

“I’m not afraid of death. I’m afraid I haven’t been alive enough.”

Those words landed in the center of the center of the bullseye so they didn’t even need to be thought about.

They just hung in the air in front of me like conspicuous Himalayan prayer flags.

But they evaporated in an instant when my eyes caught an unexpected sight in their periphery.

It was like a glitch in the Matrix.

A World War II bayonet rested beside my bed.

I felt neurons rushing to make their calculations.

Ah, yes.

My mom and sister were going through boxes of old stuff today and one of them must have left it there for me.

It was my dad’s.

He inherited from his dad who guarded Nazi prisoners with it.

They’re both dead now.

And now it’s mine.

I can’t speak for my grandfather (Abraham Berman) but when my dad (Harold Berman) got sick, he told me that he lived long enough and all he cared about at that point was his family not having to see him suffer.

How brave and beautiful and selfless.

It didn’t even occur to him to worry about suffering. His first thought, as always, was about my mom and my sister and me.

But he didn’t get his wish.

I was imprinted with his suffering. Tattooed permanently by it.

And at this point, I’m not afraid of dying either. I just hope that I (Gabriel Berman) will be alive enough to truly live.

And I hope the same for you.

with love and gratitude,
gb

If you haven’t read this yet, it’s time:
Live Like A Fruit Fly

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You Couldn’t Help It 

  
LOVE LOOKS LIKE THIS

S. Redemption 

  
love looks like this 

Gabe Proof Through The Night

Alone I sat on the beach again.

Alone I sat, but in a huge crowd, as the Fourth Of July fireworks illuminated the night sky.

And on the drive home, I thought about why we all crave to be in love.

Crave it like junkies in withdrawal.

I think it’s because being in love is the only thing that can rival the feeling of being young.

Because when you’re in love, and I mean cosmically coordinated, quantumly entangled, unconditionally expressed, star crossed love, time loses all relevance. The years behind you become a concept. An illusion.

And the present moment becomes bright and attention grabbing like it’s been filtered in Photoshop.

Of course in the car tonight, I also let myself lie naked in the center of the massive crater left behind by the absence of my dad.

If I were anymore heartbroken, I’d cease.

Totally cease.

As for right now, I’m sitting in his seat at the dining room table, listening to Kind Of Blue by Miles, and the only thing I can think to do is send him love.

I have enough, more than enough, for you as well.

with gratitude,
gb

Your loved ones will love this from you: Love Looks Like This

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Can We Handle The Truth?

In thirty-nine minutes, it’s my dad’s birthday.

Harold Berman.

He would have been seventy-four.

If he hadn’t gotten sick, I’d probably be in Florida right now. And I’d call him tomorrow, like nine hundred times, to wish him happy birthday.

But I flew back to New York the day he was diagnosed. And here I remain. For now.

I still hear him in the back of my head. As clear as ever. Behind my ears. As I always have.

Not in words exactly, but in silent feelings. I can feel his feelings. And they guide me through decisions and situations. Although, obviously and unfortunately, I can’t call him after the fact anymore.

And I hate that.

Hate.

When I was young my dad told me I shouldn’t use the word “hate” because it’s too strong of a word.

Well dad, I really mean it this time.

More so than I ever.

Because all I can do is sit here, listening to Brubeck – your favorite, while writing to a few good people who are now reading these words.

So what would you like me to pass on to them?

You’d often say there are three sides to every story – my side, your side and the right side. The truth.

So, what’s the truth here?

It feels like, behind my ear, the truth is that only love is real.

But maybe that’s good-ol-fashion bullshit.

Because the fear, and greed, and evil in this world, sure as hell seems just as real.

Wait.

Ahh, I got it.

I can hear you more clearly now dad.

Love might not be the only thing that’s real, but it’s certainly the only thing that matters.

And I love you.

Beyond.

And miss you.

Excruciatingly so.

And I love you too, dear readers, for being here with me in this moment.

I’m truly grateful for you – and that’s the truth as well,
gb

Happy Birthday Dad.

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Feel No Evil

  
Live Like A Fruit Fly 

Roy G. Biv

Aggressively, I pulled over to the side of road like a cop on Cops and jettisoned out of my car like it was about to explode – super nova style.

Everything was cool though. It’s just that I saw a rainbow that seemed CGI. Completely computerized. Luminous, crisp and perfect.

And this is right around the time you ask, “Gabe, are you really taking up my time to talk about a goddamn rainbow?!”

No.

Well, yes and no.

I wouldn’t have written a word about if I hadn’t received multiple texts from a few friends as I clicked pics of the overhead magnificence.

A few lovely people in my life wanted to make sure I wasn’t missing out on such a transcendent site. Because they know that’s what I’m all about – noticing beauty in between the shit.

And just the fact that a few people were looking up at the same time, in awe, and thought to share it with me and god knows who else, almost moved me to tears.

It’s just too damn beautiful.

Especially with the new Paul Simon album in my headphones as I write this.

He just sang, “I trade my tears to ask The Lord for proof of love. If only for the consolation of gazing at the stars above…I ask The Lord for proof of love. Love is all I seek. Love is all I seek.”

Prayer answered. Right in those texts.

And I am so very grateful for them.

In this moment, all I am is gratefulness.

thank you, so much, for sharing this moment with me,
gb

Get my new book, Love Looks Like This

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Failure or Success? 

  

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