all my life, I've questioned "what really matters?" seen through the eyes of a dreamer

a tale of dreaming big and not letting naysayers bog you down with their bullshit

All of my life, I thought I was suppose to just know everything.

Turns out I’m wrong. In fact, I think it’s the knowing that burdens us the most. It’s the thinking we have it figured out or we need to figure it out. Theres so much god damn pressure anymore. It’s so unattainable and extreme. Is it because we need to focus on things, anything? Is it the need to feel something, so that we avoid feeling nothing? Is that as small as we are in the world, we are plagued with avoidant and shady characters? Is this where narcissist and god complex’s originate from? What if we focus on knowing absolutely nothing, how much more amazing is life when were constantly learning new things? Is it appropriate to be a wonderer just pondering the curiosities of our existence? What riches lie ahead if we remove ourselves just enough to focus on what matters most?

Wait. Hold the phone.

What matters most? Damn.

This is farrrrrr to existential for first thing in the morning. My mornings are meant to be full of peace.. anddd… serenity. Not these wild ass questions! I don’t have time for all this existential life stuff. Creed’s “One last breath” house remix by Jojo Lorenzo is ripping in the background on my mini boombox. Otherwise known as a sad mans anthem on a Saturday night while slamming garage beers.

“Hunny, I’m going to bed soon. When are you coming in?” as your wife stands at the garage door waiting for you to pick your head up out of the toolbox.

“God dammit Janice, just leave me be. Dont ya hear me Creed going.” In Country hillbilly voice.

Shortly thereafter the wife walks away..

Moments later inanimate song lyrics are being hurdle beyond the garages open door for the entire neighborhood to hear.

“I’m down to one last breath, lemme sing. Im six feet, fucking shit. God help me.” Hillbilly voice becomes more broken and distorted.

“John are you coming in!” Wife mysteriously reappears at the foot of garage.

“Fuck! Fine.” Our John Doe slowly drags his sorry ass into house.

I digress. I’m sure my neighbor is really enjoying the choice of the morning while still snoozing above me. I’m trying to get jazzed for a the day ahead. It’s a Saturday. The air smells like old newspapers. It’s like a cardboard factory right in my living room. I haven’t even vacuumed yet and the boom box is beating a hole through my cranium, but more important than that, my neighbors dreaming of a Creed concert right now somewhere in Ibiza while his wife is yelling at him to come inside for the night. And hes no longer Haitian, he’s a white hillbilly.

Its been such a drag of a week, I’ve had every asshole from every area of my life implant their problems into my day. Isn’t it the worst when people just suck you into their drama and rhetoric? Like dude. I’m just trying to develop enough musk to attract the right peacock and mind my own business. What’s all the animosity? Wheres the love? It’s bizarre, like madness is plaguing our world and were just existing through it.

Is it getting better? Is it getting worse? If we are not all that we could be, how could we ever be more of what we want to be? Is it so far fetched to believe that in our moments of privacy, is where we learn the most? Is it possible that no amount of likes and accomplishments could amount to the person you feel you are? Attention, good bad or indifferent, will not be adequate.

I’m not just kicking tires here. I wanna get to the nitty gritty of what’s holding us back and well, how the fuck do we get going again? Jerry Seinfeld says the most important part of the day is your morning coffee. It’s reliable, it’s consistent, it’s great for social interaction and it’s even the most important part of life. So why are we waking up and immediately worried, overthinking, and just blahhh? Why are we thinking the same thoughts every day, bogged down with inefficiency, excuse, and complacency?

I’m not one for questions because every question only leads to well, more questions. I seem to have a lot questions today. But in the light of my morning crisis, theres no harm in trying to learn from what’s right in front of us, right? It’s vague, it’s incomplete, so? As I get older, these types of crisis seem to be happening more regularly. Hmm. Whatever.

Can we get back to the cardboard box smell? Is it to late to travel back in time and reminisce over the aromas of nostalgia? I think my entire childhood actually smells like the milk leftover from a bowl of Lucky Charms.

Am I fucking nuts? Maybe.

Just a little. But I’m just a boy, leave me alone.

Hehehee

It’s what makes me a fantastic lover and servant to the world. I see how people take advantage of my good will. I’ve watched people lie to me in the eyes and make up stories to fit their narrative for life. I’m carefully concerned with how people mislead themselves. Its troubling the lengths people go to and energy they waste when if they’d just be themselves, they’d see how beautiful that is. Instead they burn the very people that would never do that to them.

Like if I know you’re lying or sugarcoating something for me, I’ll usually cut you off and say “come on, tell me how you really feel.” I wanna get to the bones of what a person feels and I’ll challenge them while giving them an opportunity to get their piece out there.I’m gonna make you say what you need to say with your chest. It’s like the NY way. New Yorkers aren’t just assholes, their just from NY. If you know you know.

You want to be around me? You want to be apart of the greatness I bring to this world, you will be forced to meet me on my level. You don’t have a choice because I’m not compromising on how I feel. I’m not sacrificing my outspoken and vocal stance because people are timid, or full of shit. I can’t stand nonsense. My GAS meter runs high.

A persons gas meter is their ability to give a shit. Something most people don’t do, some care, and others spend their time pretending they care. I learned that term many years ago from a great leader who has a high sense of moral superiority and belief in people. It was admirable while entertaining to have him explain the analogy. I’m generalizing here and were just trying to enjoy our weekend and do our thing but what person are you? Are you full of shit? Do you make up stories and let your internal Pinocchio out while you fumble? Are you a hack, a cheat?

I spend most mornings talking to my brother over Facebook messenger. I’m not even sure if he has a phone number. Between the hours of 4am-10am, you can expect at least one or two Mike Tyson videos, and 14 videos of “life in Italy.” Shit montages and parodies made by content creators. Were always thinking of Italy. We traveled out there years ago and had the time of our lives and ever since then, cannot wait to get back.

You see, we’ve got the dreamer bug. I believe we can have anything we want in this world. It’s true that if you can see it and feel it, you can have it. It can be yours. You think I’m lying? What did you think of when I said a good morning starts with a cup of coffee? You thought of your favorite drink to start the day of course. Maybe tea, maybe coffee. You could feel it. When I said my morning smells like old newspapers, you imagined the smell of newspaper and it brought you to a time that you were either holding a paper, smelled the newspaper, or something similar. The old milk after you crush some Lucky Charms, brought ya back to a memory, a time, right?

You can feel these things. They aren’t so far fetched. I talked about my time in Italy, did you think about your last vacation? Or perhaps YOUR time in Italy?

…..Anthony, what’re you doing….. This is getting weird…..

I’m of the assumption that anything that can be visualized, and felt can be reality. When I’m writing jokes or working a joke, I talk out loud as if I’m already on stage telling the joke and imagining the breaks when my audience is laughing. It’s taken a ton of practice of course, but I’ve learned through sucking and bombing painfully. It’s just like when a bad jokes flops, which used to paralyze me as a comic. Is it because it’s a bad joke or the set up was off, maybe. More importantly, in my personal experience, it’s the not seeing it as funny, not feeling it as a possible joke where the breakdown takes a hold of me. Evidently, it flops.

My brother and I have dreamt big for years, ever since I can remember. Those dreams have made a lot of otherwise impossible avenues of our life become I’m-possible. Italy’s a tricky one. Like do we go on vacation for a week or two? That would be reasonable. That would be practical. That would be I’m possible. That would not be my brother and I.

Instead, we are exchanging at 6 am on a Saturday how we could potentially MOVE THERE. Thats right. How do we buy a home there?

“Bro, check this out. $1 homes are back in Ollolai.. I just submitted a contact form. We out.” I sent in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

“Need to see it and feel it to get it lol” my brother responds.

“You’re right. We can fix this place up.” I say about the local Italy listing in question.

The listing:

“Wonder what it takes to buy there” my brother asks nervously after reviewing our potential snags.

As if buying a house in another country without any means of doing so isn’t enough, I send through a few one million dollar listings for good measure.

Now I’m being a hack. Nothing like the pot calling the kettle black. I can’t afford a fucking house in Italy! Neither can my brother! But between the both of us, maybe. Even yet, not a chance. Maybe with an investor to finance our brotherly project to escape the hustle and bustle of politics and weird social dynamics. That probably won’t play well for a money guy.

“Whats my return here?”

Side by side, hat in hand, my brother and I. “Look bro, you gotta see it to feel it”

---

I’m 29, he’s in his thirties. It’s not a bad ten year plan, or even five year plan. It’s not so unattainable that it’s impossible even given the obvious fact that we broke ass motherfuckers. The dream is real. The vision is aligned. We share pictures from our last trip thinking of the next time will indulge in farm to table tomatoes with burrata and all the fixings. It’s not that far fetched or ridiculous to eventually make Italy our primary residence or even just have a spot to go year over year. It’s not possible today on paper, and if we told anyone the actual plan to make Italy a reality, they would rip us to absolute pieces. May even read us the riot act depending.

Puzzling questions of the naysayers always flood in with big dreams. “How will you afford it? What about citizenship? Do you have the legal documents?” If you’re our mother then we will face double the questioning and need at least two year of lead time to have her convinced. She’s rightfully a critic. I’m just like I’m not taking advice from negative people that only focus on the problem, not the possibility. It's something that we share and have plans in place to make it possible; Own a property in Italy.

So does it pay to be an avoidant? At the end of a miserable week, what pays to play? If we let others dictate our ability, 9/10 we will cash out on someones disbelief in us. I think the kids call it crash out these days. If we are ignorantly steadfast, fortune favors the bold. Victory is the inevitable. It’s feeling what you need from yourself that matters most and theres no advice that can predict where you will be next. It’s a winning mindset to see it, to feel it, and not focus on what could go wrong because there is an infinite about of reasons NOT to do anything. Then you can answer the big question that we all face; What matters most?