OMGabe

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

Kim Is Leaving Kanye Because of Trump

Kim Kardashian is filing for divorce from Kanye West because of his devotion to Donald J. Trump. 

 

How do I feel about this?

 

I really don’t care.  

 

I really don’t care because I would never care about them (aside from them also being human), and also because it isn’t true.  I just made it up.  

 

It’s remarkable how many more people will click on a link like this than something I’d write which may provide a life affirming message or something that’s politically urgent. 

 

But now that you’re here, I really just wanted to say that not one person checked on me during the eight days of being in Hurricane Dorian’s crosshairs.   

 

Aside from the same four or five people I talk to everyday, not one person.  No family, no friends, no fraternity brothers.  

 

Everyone knows I live one mile from the ocean in South Florida.  Everyone knew this hurricane, which was just about the strongest in recorded history, loomed in spitting distance of me before it finally turned north.  

 

And not a goddamn phone call, text, or Facebook message. 

How do I feel about this?

 

Just like with Kim and Kanye, I really don’t care.  

 

I’m just here to make a point.  But now that I’m writing this, I don’t even know what my point is.  

 

I think I’m just so perplexed.  

 

All I know is that if had the news on and saw tornado warnings in let’s say Indiana, my brain would reflexively run through it’s Rolodex for people I may know there so I could get in touch with them to make sure they’re okay.  

 

What the fuck was everyone thinking who knows when they were watching TV? “Hey honey, do you see this storm on South Florida’s doorstep? And, do you think we have enough hotdogs for the barbecue tomorrow?”

 

So, I guess my point is, I hope we collectively evolve before it’s too late.  

 

Survey says, I doubt it.  

 

With that, thank god I’m me.  And not them.  

 

And if this offends anyone or makes anyone think differently of me, good.  

 

 

love to all of you anyway, 

gb

 

 

Advertisements

Does Anyone Care?

Fishing for fun is terrorism.    

It’s not the same as detonating a suicide vest in the middle of Tel Aviv, but it isn’t too far away either.

People can roll their eyes at this all goddamn day long but there’s no denying that a disregard for the suffering of anyone or anything that isn’t you is terrorism. 

A difference of a degree of course, but where do we draw the line? Just turn on the news and see how we treat each other. With a little self reflection, it’s an undeniable slippery slope for sure.

This comes up today because there’s a fishing camp for kids at the lake I walk around in the morning. Everyone seems happy and the adult supervision is on point but what is this teaching the future adults of the world? That it’s okay to hurt animals for pleasure. That it’s okay to add suffering to the world. That it’s okay to treat others in a way they wouldn’t want to be treated. 

Hence, turn on the news and see the state of the world.

Twenty points for a big fish? Ten for a turtle? Really? Listen up people, the whole world isn’t your fucking video game.

Love.

Thy.

Neighbor.

Or we’ll find our way onto the extinction list. 

 If you liked this post, please pass it on. If it bothered you, good. Do something about it. Please.

 love/thanks,
gb


Buy the best book for trump supporters HERE

Why I’m Here

I didn’t become an artist to become successful.

I became an artist to add beauty to the world.

– gb

Love Looks Like This

You Smell Like A Monkey And You Look Like One Too

Yesterday was trump’s birthday and it was also my dad’s.

Two people who are/were complete opposites.

And one continues to live on in a reign of greedy terror and one dies so tortuously.

This universe would be a comedy it wasn’t so tragic.

Regardless, I will forever be grateful for innocence, art and kindness.

– gb

They Hurt A Dog?

This is Stuart.    

We just met at Starbucks and, obviously, we’re friends now.

I told his dad, whose name is Deepak, that I love the way his dog’s ear stands up like that.

He said Stuart is a rescue and he was abused. One ear sustained hearing loss so the other is always raised to compensate.

I said, “That’s so awful. I can’t believe anyone would do that.”

He quickly replied, “I can believe it. Easily. People abuse people. Why not this?”

Deepak and I took an unplanned breath together and then we continued to talk. About dogs, guns, abortion and the bewildering hypocrisy of right wing Christianity.

And now that I’m here, talking to you, all I can say is thank god for people like Deepak.

Because the human consciousness, until it evolves to kindness, until it evolves to selflessness, and until it evolves to unconditional love, is a filthy disease.

 

And with that, thank god for you too.

– gb


Buy the perfect book for trump supporters here: IMPEACH!

Are We Surrounded By Them?

Maybe these people are actually angels or enlightened masters.

These people we walk by as if they’re not even there. These people we deem crazy. These people we look down our noses at.

Maybe these angels or enlightened masters are watching us. Seeing how judgmental we are. Seeing if we’re kind. Seeing if we’re willing to risk it all for love.

Like this guy I saw today outside of a Starbucks in a posh shopping center.

This guy, in meditative ecstasy of a phantom guitar chord, who sees everything we do while his eyes are closed.

thank you for sharing this moment with me,

gb

love looks like this

I See Alive People 

The guy who works behind the front desk in the lobby of my mom’s building is a retired cop from New York and I go out of my way to shake his hand just about every time I visit.

My dad used to shake his hand so there’s a part of me that believes, or wants to believe, that when my palm makes contact with his (after I extend my arm over the front desk), a cosmic bridge branches out instantly through space and time and connects metaphysically to the nook in the universe whey my dad’s energy forever vibrates. 

And that’s it. That’s this whole blog post.

I thought these words needed to be said so I said them. Now we’ll see if they wrap around any brainstems. 

Love/thanks, 

GB  


What does love look like?

This…




Not In Vain

I was sleeping in a narrow cot next to my dad’s hospital bed when I was pulled back into full consciousness and my eyes opened abruptly in the semi dark room.

I jumped to my feet and stood over my dad.

In his sleep, he took a breath.

And that was it. His last one.

Six years ago today.

And I am not writing this for comments or likes or sympathy, but as plea.

A plea for expanded kindness, a plea for love without conditions, and a plea for the full surrender of trivialities.

Because we’re all headed for the same place. And if it’s not you first, you’ll watch it happen to your loved ones.

And it’s so insane, literally, that we live like this isn’t true. But we’re all fruit flies. Here for just a little bit. And only love will make it worth the trip.

Thank you for sharing this moment with me. If I reach the heart of just one person, it will make the pain of putting down the last one hundred and seventy-six words worth it.

love/thanks,

gb

Messenger Meets Messenger

This is Abraham.  

He works at the gas station I pulled into last night at around 10 pm.  

He was changing the garbage at the pump and when I asked him how he was doing, he turned to face me and I saw fire in his eyes.  Like the fire from the burning bush atop of Mount Sinai.  

He told me to have faith in god.  To work.  To not worry about what was happening around me. 

And he smiled when I told him my name is Gabe. 

“Ahh Gabriel,” he said pointing up to the heavens. “You’re the one god chose to tell all of them.”


But the truth is dear reader, one way or another, we’re all messengers.  

love/thanks, 
gb

P.S. he also loved when I told him my grandfather’s name is/was Abraham.

Where Is God When Our Loved Ones Get Sick?

Here’s Looking At You Kid

For a split second today, I saw my father’s face.

I saw it in my own reflection in the car window.

My hair is a bit shorter than it usually is and on a whim this morning, I trimmed up my face. Which lead us, by coincidence or cosmic coordination, to seeing eye to eye together for the first time in a long time.

I wonder, if they do look down at us from up there, if he’d be proud of me or utterly disappointed.

If kindness counted, which I hope it does, then I’d be in good shape.

– gb

Love Looks Like This

Post Navigation