I Would Hate You If I Could – Turnover

A video a made in downtown San Antonio, TX. Hope you guys like it. Enjoy!

X & Y

Let me ask you a quick question.

Who is it that you think you are?

Do you have an image of yourself that you drew in a sketchbook somewhere long ago, or have you just been the paint splattered on the canvas by the artist not sure of where to go?

Asking yourself who or what you are is a very hard thing to do. Sometimes I lie in the corner of my room on the fringe of my mattress, and I wonder what it is I have gotten myself into, who it is that I’ve become. I used to have these ideas of myself that I thought I would be able to uphold and maintain, but in reality, i was just building cages around myself, not knowing I could easily get out. All of my life, I’ve tricked myself into thinking that I was the one in control of the making of myself, when in reality, I’m only everything I was programmed to be. I was hardwired to love and like certain things, and it was only a matter of discovering those things for me to know I truly liked them. I felt like I had grown a likeness to those things on my own, by my own will, when in reality, they’ve been there all along.

It’s almost depressing thinking that you didn’t make who you were. You just simply like the things you do because the appeal to something within you that you had no part in choosing.

But then there’s this moment, a moment for all moments in which we have to take hold of who we are. There’s this moment in which you realize you can’t decide who you are, but you sure as hell can decide what you are. Are you a liar, a coward, a man afraid of failure? Are you an honest man, a man of courage, a man set on chasing his dreams and floating amongst the stars?

You can’t change who you are, but by God you can change what you do with who you are.

There is a time where you sit down and evaluate everything you’ve become and reminisce on what it was that you wanted to be. You wonder if it gets better, if you are enough for yourself. Are you satisfied? Or do you want more? More of you, more of everything you think you could’ve been if you had only given yourself the chance. The world tells you that you have to either love who you are or chase the image of yourself that you can love and refuse to love yourself until you are that image.

Well that’s bullshit.

Look deep down inside of you. Think of all the music you like, the movies, the games, the jokes and the people. Bask in how they make you happy and how they make you feel alive. You love them don’t you? All the things that leave you with a smile from cheek to cheek? Newsflash: they are a part of you. They are everything you are, so love not only the things that make you happy, love yourself. I understand we don’t all look like we would want, talk like we want, walk like we want, but we need to learn to love the things we can’t control because they are the reasons why we love what we love. If it wasn’t for the parts of us that wish we could change, happiness would never have been found in the unique jokes and people we’ve come to love. We would all be the same, and art and passion could never exist.

Now stand back and look at your life. There are things you want to do, so much you want to accomplish but are so unsure that you can fulfill your wishes. If you want to cut down on your weight, change your look, get your dream job, complete a bucket list: feel free to do it. Do everything in your power to get what you want. But before you go conquering planet earth, learn to love the core of you, the part of you that has never changed, always constant like the stars in the sky or the beauty of the rose. Don’t base your happiness on the things that can change so easily, the things in your life that fluctuate so quickly.

Love yourself enough to stay true to who you were born to be. Being what you truly want to be will only be a result of who you are. Being who you were born to be and being what you want go hand in hand. You are the constant and your dreams are the variables. Dreams come and go but you will always stay the same. The X & Y of the equation of life. The equation of you.

Love yourself.

Embrace your flaws.

Be what you want, it’s only who you are.

to those who are listening.

-Gideon Reyes

john stamos.

Why do we always have to belittle everyone?

Have you ever really thought about how often we belittle each other?

As you walk through a crowded hallway or a cluttered sidewalk, these thoughts pop into your brain, thoughts you sometimes have no control over.

“She’s with him? He’s ugly.”

“He’s friends with her? But shes fat!”

“He drives that piece of shit? What a no life.”

Whether consciously or subconsciously, we tend to mentally talk shit to everyone. This is what we call BEING AN ASSHOLE.

Admit it, we all do it, some more often than not. I catch myself thinking these thoughts all the time. Sometimes I’m sincere, but mostly I’m not. I make a lot of jokes, make fun of a lot of people. I don’t mean much by it. We live in a world where it’s okay to get offended by anything, and I’d like to go on the record and say that blows. But that’s a subject for another time. As I was saying, the times I am sincerely being subconsciously mean, it’s because I have a distorted view of people and their behavior.

Hell, we all do.

We are fed daily by our social networks and big media that anyone who deserves to be loved has to look like John Stamos or Jessica Alba. For God’s sake, 80% of the world is going to be considered ugly by those standards. Why must we mentally make other people seem shitty just to make ourselves feel better? I know I do it sometimes. I don’t care if he’s my best friend, he’s no John Stamos and I’m going to make sure he knows it!

Kidding.

I just wish we could look at one another differently. We don’t have to get all sappy and all hold hands singing the chorus line to Kumbaya. I just think if we took one more second to just appreciate the fact that people are amazing no matter how fat they are or how broken their nose looks. Everyone has something to keep them humble. Most attractive people are total idiots and probably peaked in high school, if that makes the other 80% feel any better.

There’s this guy in one of my classes. He’s a total dork and he smells like a rotted piece of fungus, but he has a girlfriend. He and his girlfriend play video games together and they have a blast. From what I hear, he loves the chick. They have fun beating the shit out of each other in Grand Theft Auto and love to blow an aliens head off in a match of Halo. It sounds nerdy. From what I imagined before, I could see her being a little on the lower half of the 80%, if you catch my drift, but then I stopped. Here’s a guy who is happy with a girl who loves everything he does. She matches his gaming skills but hopefully not his odor issues. But honestly.

Who gives a rats ass if she’s ugly? She could be Quasimoto for all I know, yet this guy is all smiles. They share a connection between one another and that’s what counts.

Yes, we’re wired to like hot people. We’re programmed to think that’s all there is to life on Earth. But the thing is, on the inside we’re all the same. A bag of muscle and bones, that in spite of dangerous amounts of McDonalds and Coca-Cola, are still standing. Don’t be so quick to point at the ugly or weird. If you’re neither of those, you’re most like to be stupid as shit.

Kidding.

I don’t like people. I still think they’re ugly. They still have shitty cars. They are fat. They are stupid. They are weird. They are incomprehensibly stupid. But so am I. I’m just as ugly and have a shitty car. I may not be as fat or as stupid as you, but it’s probably just because you have a head start. You’re ugly, I’m ugly. We’re in this together.

The next time you mentally call someone ugly, just remember:

You’re no John Stamos.

(But if you are John Stamos, feel free to call anyone you want ugly.)

to those who are listening.

-Gideon Reyes

what we lack.

We lack definition.

Definition: the act of making something definite, distinct, or clear, the formal statement of the meaning or significance of a word.

The art of language is probably one of the most beautiful things on this green earth. It is so intricately detailed, there is almost a word for everything. Every feeling, every thought, every opinion, every perspective, every vantage point, every look, every touch, every celebration: every aspect of our lives is determined by the words that we let slip through our teeth. No matter how you truly feel, how you should’ve told her, how you want to explain things, no matter what good intentions you have, your life is going to reflect two things.

Your life reflects:

1. what you did.
2. what you said.

We once lived in a world where words meant something, when words could speak for themselves. A time when you could look at a word and it’s immediate substance and say “Ah, yes, she does think I am handsome,” “He does believe I can ace my Physics final,” “She really thinks I am an amazing person.” These times have swiftly come and gone, without lawful cause, without saying goodbye, more importantly, without saying hello. How did I miss it? How did I miss an age that appreciated words and their meaning, an age when I can be taken seriously, an age that I can truly mean what I say and say what I mean?  How could it have overlooked me and my fellow people who are dying for someone to take us seriously, to care about what we have to say, and to know exactly what we mean when we tell them?

We live in a time where we have to thoroughly decipher and dissect everything you hear. “You are beautiful.” “You are amazing.” “I like you for you.”

“I love you.”

We have to question every thing said, every thing spoken, it must be tested by fire, for if it survives the furnace, only truth will remain. But is that the solution? Is that the cure to the plague, the epidemic among us? If we set ablaze everything we hear, will we be doing the most good, the best for those closest to our hearts? Should I allow a man’s words to enter my ears without trial or restriction, to either uplift and support me, or to poison and manipulate who I am? Is that what is best for everyone around me? Probably. But I care about me, I care about who I am. I am important, I am amazing, I am handsome, I am good, I am worth your time. I don’t need you to tell me. I don’t need your lies, your deconstructive opinions, misguided judgement, or biased hate. I am okay without you. I am fine without your empty compliments and your loaded questions.

But what if you mean it? What if everything you say to me is true, and what if I throw it all away, throw it all away so I wont risk the hurt? Life is made up of the things you decide to do, and most unfortunately is composed of the things you don’t do.  The things you say, and the things you don’t. If you mean what you say, I am infinitely more than fine. I am the best I can be, with you at my side.

Oh, how I wish I could’ve witnessed first hand the ongoing exchange of the doubtless, meaningful words between the men and women, between the people who did not have corrupted intentions and who would not gift another with false hopes. I wish those days were still in our mist, still within our grasp. Oh, how that world is only but fiction, but fairy tale to my ears. It has been fairy tale, until I found her.

There has been a rumor, a distinct whisper heard through the tin cans of our youth, those attached to the withering strings, that there is a rhythm to the madness, a way to ease the chaos.

Listen closely. 

The ones closest to you, the ones you share every bit of who you are with, the ones who you could never live without, for the love of God and all that is good in this world, believe them. Believe what they have to tell you, engrave their words into your DNA, let them be absorbed into the fabrics of your being. They deserve your trust, they deserve the risk you are willing to take in order to let them in, and by God, let them love you. You can keep distant the ones you do not trust, the ones who you know have ill intentions. But for the sake of the hearts you care about, believe them, every sentence, every phrase, every word. I believe the words she tells me, the love she shares, and oh, how truly sweet it tastes, how thoroughly satisfying it is to know she loves me not just for who I am, but for what I am. And how I love her so.

My fellow man, my fellow woman, stand for the meaning of words. Let truth be heard across the nations, around the globe. May your words mean something, may your words be said with such conviction, that those dearest to you will believe you. And if no one will believe you, dammit, I will believe you. I will hear you out. Just don’t keep living without knowing that someone believes you, someone out there believes you.

May we not go back to a time of truth, but create a new time, of meaning and truth, to expel all doubt and suspicion, and may we mean the words we say.

Be truth. Be meaning. Be definite.

Words have definition, may you have one as well.

to those who are listening.

-Gideon Reyes

real courage.

“Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point.”

-C. S. Lewis

It’s a terrifying summer night in the city of Boston, Massachusetts. Hundreds of sirens are blaring, lights flashing endlessly abroad in the previously placid streets and avenues of the urban metropolis of the great city. The duplexes on the intersection of 3rd and 7th street are engulfed in raging flames, consumed by the smoke and the screams. The firemen arrive at the scene in record time, and although saving the building was beyond possibility, lives were immediately the priority and always have been. Families are saved by the dozens, but these victims are burned severely, the flesh does not remain. Their bodies have been stripped of their protective layers and need to be attended to immediately. The wounds seem unrepairable, their bodies have been seared by the flames, but the firemen and paramedics do not panic. They have been trained for this. Every hand is needed, every bandage, every oxygen tank, for the firemen take them off their own backs. There is a scream, a scream of a young child, the high, shrill squeal of a young boy trapped in a labyrinth of fire and smoke. The firemen do not hear,  and if they can, there is nothing to be done. The roof is collapsing on its foundation, the flames are roaring, daring anyone, anything to come and challenge its force.

The civilians are horrified. They are but hopelessly lost, beginning to accept the boy’s fate.

But not him. No, he will not stand for the end of a life that hasn’t even began. He bolts into that building. He runs through the flames. He dodges the falling timber. He pulls the child from the closet and rushes down what’s left of the stairs, and he gets out, he gets out just in time. His arm is dislocated, his legs are horrifically burned, his eyes are bloodshot, his clothes are in shreds.

But the boy. The boy is fine. The boy only has ashes on his clothes, he coughs a bit, and he has bed head. The man did it for the boy, he saved his life. He is a hero. He is brave.

He is courage.

My friend, do not be undermined by a great tale of a man who risked it all, putting his own life aside for another’s.

For you are courage.

You can be courageous, without running to a burning building, without fending off men attacking a bystander, without carrying your fellow soldier into the safety of a trench, without being physically phenomenal, without being the bravest of the bunch. You can be courage.

“…but the form of every virtue at the testing point.”

Courage is not only for the soldiers, for the warriors, for those men of the great wars. Courage is for the man who will stand, the man who will stand against the violation of humanity.

Kindness. Patience. Compassion. Humility. Diligence. Purity. Love. Endurance. Self-sacrifice. Forgiveness.

When your boss presses you to finish that report, to have it on his desk the first thing in the morning, when all your ability to endure fades into the abyss of failure your life seems to always be drowning in, do you have the courage to endure, to keep going? When your first grade daughter cannot and will not listen to any attempt you have made to satisfy her hunger for attention, when you are exhausted from your day at work, when your acid reflux flares up, when you just want to let all hell break loose and scream at the child and send her off to bed, do you have the courage to have the patience to show your offspring the love she needs from you, the only man that will never break her heart? When you have swore at your parents, cursed them to the depths, have abandoned their company, wisdom, and efforts to keep you around, do you have the courage to be humble enough to say you were wrong, to tell them that you are sorry? When your distant neighbor’s son has recently been diagnosed of Leukemia, do you have the courage to be compassionate towards a child you have never spoken to, a child who needs every flower, needs every Hallmark card, to feel as if he can win his battle? When your best friend sleeps with your girlfriend, when he violates every boundary you could have possibly had, do you have the courage to forgive the unforgivable, do you have it in your heart to put it behind you permanently and tell him that he is forgiven? When your wife wants to have a weekend at your in-laws’ mountain cabin, when you are tired after a week full of work and responsibility, when you just want a moment to yourself, do you have the courage to sacrifice your time for the woman you love most, for the most loyal and supportive woman you could have ever asked for? Do you have the courage to love someone, who disgusts you to the most atomic fibers of your being, the courage to put your differences aside and show them unconditional kindness?

Do you?

Are you courage?

Yes, yes you are courage, my friend. You are human. Have the courage to embrace your humanity.

Have the courage to be human.

At every virtue’s testing point, my friend, be courage.

to those who are listening.

-Gideon Reyes

a common misconception.

“Life sucks.”

People love to proclaim it.

Every twitter feed, every facebook post, every tumblr gif, every thought spawned by the human intellect is forged from, created by, the premise that the very thing that allows us to tread amongst the soil of our great planet, is the soul contributor to our daily mishaps and misfortune.

You lose the key to your apartment: life sucks. You run into the screen door at the local coffee shop: life sucks. You run into your ex-boyfriend and his super hot girlfriend: life sucks. You dropped a dumbbell on your foot at the gym: life sucks. Your friend sweeps the love of your life of her feet: life sucks.

But my humble peers, I am here to tell you that life does not “suck.” It is not Life’s fault tragedy seems to swarm around our every step. It isn’t Life’s fault that you didn’t get the promotion, or win the big game, or win the tickets to that concert.

Life is opportunity.

Life knocks at your door from time to time, and for Pete’s sake you have to answer. If you didn’t focus all your efforts on the things you couldn’t do, if you didn’t spend your time at the mercy of your failures, maybe you might hear it. Maybe opportunity spends less time at your doorstep because you’re never home.

Don’t blame life for the things you couldn’t accomplish. You can blame your lack of focus, your constant procrastination, your inept laziness, your withering circumstances, your poor timing, your discouraging surroundings, your inability, your overcompensation, you can blame it on anything, but don’t blame life.

Life is a gift, given to those who needed it, given to those who need a chance to make something of themselves.

Don’t waste it.

Instead make it, make it great.

Make it the best you know how, with a smile on your face, a skip in your step, and a glare in your eyes.

Life is what you make it.

I promise you that.

to those who are listening.

-Gideon Reyes

love yourself.

I want to write to everyone, I want to address the world.

I want my hands to flow freely, and for others to see the things I think and love every word let loose from my mind, but at the end of the day I am just a man behind the humble pen. I am just a man bound by ink and paper. I am just a poor soul looking for undeserving attention, looking for a way out of the cycle that continues to loop in his mind. A man trapped by his thoughts and theories and subject to the eternal speculation from within himself. I tell myself that I shouldn’t be so creative, I shouldn’t be so rebellious, or unfathomably curious.

But I am. I am human. I am good. I am bad. I am right. I am wrong. I am justice. I am corruption. I am health. I am disease. I love. I hate. I inhale. I exhale. I live. I die. I run. I crawl. I shout. I weep. I am joy. I am despair.

I am nothing.

But I am everything.

Good people, it is about time we stop telling ourselves “we aren’t good enough,” “we aren’t lovely,” “we are not worth anything.”

For heaven’s sake you are. You are good enough. I think you are lovely, I think you are worth it, all of it. And for your sake, love yourself. Love yourself more than your money, or status, or job, or beauty, or health, or future, or past. Before you can love your insecure wife, your ignorant husband, your overprotective parents, your nerve racking kids, your idiotic friends, your vicious mother-in-law, your schizophrenic uncle, your widowed aunt, your cancer ridden neighbor, or any person on the face of our dear planet, good God my dearest men and women, you have to love YOU.

You have to love you.

It’s only human to feel wanted. To feel free. To be tired of being forsaken by your thoughts and abandoned by the people you once called home. When people seem to only be passing by, people only stay until you have nothing left to give, till you have nothing left to offer, nothing left to say, nothing left to bring to the table, for every inch of good left in this world, I pray you love yourself to no speakable end. Till their words don’t matter, till their lies don’t penetrate, and their deceit turns to ash, till their hate has no place to lay its head but on the broken asphalt you have left behind.

There is no past, for it is dead. There is no future, for it has not been written in stone.

Find peace within yourself my fellow man. Love who you are, and love who you aren’t.

You are more than human, no matter what anyone tries to tell you.

To those listening…

-Gideon Reyes.