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

Archive for the tag “Vegetarian”

Exit Reality

Don’t read this if you’re not interested in cleaning out your consciousness.

Still here?

Okay, thanks for sticking around.

Today, while walking into Panera Bread, I slightly smiled when I saw the storefront next door because I thought it said Exit Reality.

But alas, as you can see from the photo, it’s just a real estate agency named Exit Realty.

But before we continue, yes, I know I’m cheating on Starbucks.

Anyway… I’m bothering to bring this up because there’s an important point to be made about human suffering.

Most of human suffering is caused by the thinking mind. And the only way out of this suffering is too deny reality. Exit it. By accepting a new reality. The real reality.

Do I know what that looks like and how to get there?


And there’s only one thing you need to do in order to sense the real reality as well:

You just have to allow yourself to listen to me share with you what took me over twenty years to discover. It probably won’t be similar to anything you’ve ever heard before about existence. Click the link below or email me at if you’re at all intrigued. I promise, you won’t regret it. And maybe, just maybe, the rest of your life is hinging on it.

With that, I was just getting a refill of iced coffee and I had to wait for a few moments for the half & half because an older gentleman in front of me was slowly adding it to his coffee.

He noticed me and made an effort to hurry it along.

I said, “Take your time. I’m in no rush at all.”

To which he said, without making eye contact because he was concentrating on securing a lid to his cup, “You’ll live a long time with that attitude.”

I answered, “I don’t know about that, but life is definitely too short to make someone feel rushed over milk.”

After I lightened my coffee, I added, “Okay man, have a good one.”

He said, this time with eye contact, “You too. God bless you.”

And that, right there, was more than enough reason to be alive for today.

I am so grateful for this lovely little exchange. And so grateful for anyone reading this who also finds it lovely.

take care, as in, really, take care,
– gabe


Free Range Thoughts

The problem with gratefulness is that it invariably leads to sadness for me.

Here I am, having coffee while watching cherry blossoms undulate in the wind, and I just feel grateful.

Grateful for the coffee.

The wind.

The cherry blossoms.

My eyes.

And grateful just to be able to feel grateful.

And thats the part that kills me.

There are millions of people, many millions, as well as other animals all over the world, who are suffering so badly as I type this.

Starving children. Raped women. Migrant farmers. Cows in corporately controlled slaughter houses.

And here I am wondering, “Are those marigolds or cherry blossoms. Is ‘marigold’ even a word or am I making that up? Goddamn, this is good coffee.”

Sadness sets in and lingers like rats on a ship.

Until I remind myself, once again, that it would be doing a greater injustice to those who are suffering if I didn’t allow myself to feel grateful for what I feel grateful for when I can.

How dare I squander the miracle of being a non-sufferer?

So, I allow myself to continue to feel grateful for what I feel grateful for.

And just now, while writing this, I’ve decided to also feel grateful for suffering that ends. If history has shown us anything, it’s that anything can change at any moment.

And from my perspective, it seems as though good prevails.



thank you,

P.S If you dug this, please share it with your friends so they can dig it too.



I think I might be mutating.

Genetically mutating.

I found a pulse near my ankle today. Like the one in your wrist, but next to my foot.

Is that normal?

I don’t know, maybe it’s normal.

I was sitting with a friend at Starbucks. My legs were crossed and I rested my hand near my ankle. I felt a pulse there. An unrelenting, steady pulse.

My friend talked about her life. I listened intently, silently reflected, and all the while, my pulse pulsed on.

Isn’t it remarkable that our bodies actually function? I mean holy fuck man, they just do their thing. Regardless of our hopes, fears, conquests and failures, your cells turn sugar into energy, your heart beats, and you breathe, even when sleeping mind you.

All of this without your expressed written consent. Completely on autopilot for your convenience.

Do you understand how amazing this is? We’re not plugged into the wall. We don’t have batteries. There are no strings attached and life, on its own, just keeps on living through us.

Until one day, it no longer does.

And this is why you have to give the finger, religiously, to all naysayers.

This is why you have to follow your gut. 

This is why you have to be kind.

This is why you have to stop, right now, and breathe in the sweet summer air.

In Live Like a Fruit Fly, Gabe Berman shares his recipe for living a more joyful, worthwhile, and abundant life in every way. A witty, entertaining, and insightful read.” — Deepak Chopra, Author, The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success


Stream Of Unconsciousness

She’s definitely going to think it was me.

Because it’s not like I could have said, “I swear it was like this when I got here.”

I think that would have made things worse, so, I had no choice but to let her walk right into a trap.

The truth is, however, it was the person before me who completely cleaned out their colon in the Starbucks bathroom. I was just there for a quick pee.

But when I opened the door, and saw the woman standing there waiting to use the bathroom, I just put my head down and got the hell out of Dodge.

– end scene –

(I know, not much of a blog post. Here’s something even less substantial: earlier today, I was telling a friend about my old bartending days. When a customer had to wait three seconds more than they wanted to for their hamburger, they’d invariably say, “Did the chef have to go kill the cow first.”

Being the total, sarcastic prick I’m known to be in the face of childlike impatience, I, like clockwork, would automatically respond with, “Did you just make up that line? It’s so clever. I’ve never heard it before.”

Dear reader, why am I wasting your time with this?

I have no idea really. Sorry.

If you haven’t already stopped reading, which I wouldn’t have blamed you for, please allow me, finally, to make a point.

Thank you.

I’m a vegetarian.


Because I’m one of those weirdos you’ve heard about who cares deeply for the animals I’d be ingesting.

And  I’ve actually been mocked for this on more than one occasion.

Don’t be so shocked. I’m sure many others feel the same. They just, rightfully so, don’t have the gall to say it to my face.

There’s a part of me that wants to grab them by the neck, rip them down to the ground and step on their heads. “You like the way this feels mother fucker? Want to spend the rest of your life like this before you’re killed in the most horrific way?”

But of course, I’d never.

I just do what I can by simply abstaining.

It’s a chicken Gabe. Whats the big deal? And you’re just one person. You’re not going to make a difference.

And that thinking, right there, is responsible for just about every problem on God’s green Earth.

We need to be more compassionate. Period.

More compassionate to the less fortunate, to elders, to other ethnicities, to anyone we deem different, and of course, to animals.

Wouldn’t we want someone to stand up for us if we couldn’t stand up for ourselves?

Of course we would.

But animals don’t count when we want our burgers.

Because that would be awfully un-American.

And, the truth is, you’re just one person. Your efforts can barely scratch the surface.

But imagine if everyone thought that way?

Oh right, everyone already does.

And with that said, I was just about to switch my seat at Starbucks. I’m sitting at a table intended for eight people and two kids are doing math homework next to me. They’re not annoying, but I can hear them through my headphones and if I make my music any louder, I’ll probably hemorrhage somewhere.

But, alas, I’m staying put.

Because I just caught a whiff of the both of them. They smell like pencil sharpenings.

The smell of youth. The smell of cutesy problems.

I miss that.

I really miss that).

– end scene –

People often ask me how they can support me as a writer (actually, I’ve never been asked this – by anyone, ever).

Please click on these links and make purchases as if the entire universe hinges upon it – thank you:


Weight Loss Coffee Miracle

Live Like A Fruit Fly

Where Is God When Our Loved Ones Get Sick?

The Fifth Force – part 1 – Evil Approaches

“Never believe that a few caring people can’t change the world. For, indeed, that’s all who ever have.” – Margaret Mead


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