1.5

 Hey gang. I come to you today so tired but determined to keep writing. Starting heavy but I'll end it with some lighter segments for both you and I's sake:

The need to Try in a World that wants you to Give Up

The moment I opened this document, I burst into tears thinking about the current state of my country and the way so many have warped religion from ideas of love to pure hatred and abomination. I don't really consider myself Christian (I like to say I'm vaguely monotheistic), but the thought of Jesus bearing witness to what people have used his teachings for makes me feel sick. Would he still forgive us? Would he regret dying for all of us? The thought of it all makes me, an agnostic, want to drop into his arms and sob as I apologize until the end of time for the things the human race has done this past decade alone. 

The current state of the world has made me feel like forgiveness shouldn't be as common as it is. I'm not talking about small things, like how maybe you were an asshole in middle school but grew out of it once you became a real person with a job and ambitions. I'm talking about how it seems that the worst people in the world are forgiven over and over again. They're allowed to become our leaders, and there's so little that good people can do. It's because good people don't try to do the things they do, and therefore, there's no one there on top to fight the evil off. Even those who say they're good often get corrupted and forced into submission. We are in such a horrible era of the world, and it makes it so hard to have hope of it getting better. And I've wondered before if I just see things before 2016 as better because I was so young, but no, it's not nostalgia. It is that bad right now, and it's not just because I'm an adult now.

As I'm sitting here today struggling through my acoustics assignment and dropping thousands of dollars on insurance and tuition; as I'm on the phone with my mom's voice breaking over money and politics and mine breaking as I'm forced to decide between mental safety from my dad or financial safety if I let him back into my life, I really begin to wonder why the hell I keep going. Despite it all I'm not suicidal and from the outside it may seem like my mental state should be so much worse.

The thing is, though, is that I know I have to keep going. We have to keep going. There have to be good people left after this all to tell the next generations our sorrows and horrors, so hopefully they don't repeat our mistakes. And more importantly, we have to teach them love, in hopes it'll counteract the surge of hatred flowing through every single thing we consume today. It all sounds so corny, but there's a reason so many books and movies repeat those themes over and over again. If we don't keep fighting, hate wins. We need to keep trying for a better future because there's no other option. We need to try because the world wants us to give up.

another day, another Chobani Flip flavor I end up not liking

A Bear Hunt Across Maine

My cousin was visiting from NYC yesterday and we decided we wanted to try to go to this gay bar up in Ogunquit, Maine. Why up there?

Well, Ogunquit was the place I spent most of my time in the summer growing up. There's a lovely beach out there called Footbridge Beach that was a family favorite. It was routine for us to drive the 90 minutes up there to get there at 4 PM, when we wouldn't get sunburnt. The old man at the gate would tell us to go take a scenic route because he'd be clocking out soon. When we got there, we'd search for our favorite local, a man we called Francissco, who would run up and down the beach in his speedo and fingerless gloves (and a small umbrella if it was earlier in the day), and occasionally stop to do tai chi as his magnificently overly bronzed body shined in the sun (I hope he's doing wonderful today). On our way out, we'd grab some raw hotdogs from our cooler and go crabbing on the wooden bridge connecting the parking lot to the beach. Finally, we'd stop by the now-retired Ice Cream House, seasonally ran by a firefighter who made the best hand-baked waffle cones ever.

The reason why the gay bar comes into play is because we'd drive by it every time we went to the beach. It's in a fun part of town covered in rainbow flags, and in the summer, it's mobbed. When my (very straight) younger brother was super little, he always said he wanted to go there because "it looks so fun!" Now that my cousin and I are 21 (we were actually born 14 hours apart), it was finally time for us to go to the gay bar. 

The big joke of the night was that the love of my life must be a bear at the gay bar waiting for me, which is why this night became our hunt for my bear. But once we got to Maine, we first wanted some grub, so we stopped at this place in Kittery called When Pigs Fly. Somehow neither of us had been there before, but it was So Fucking Good. The margherittas were so awesome, and even better, it was pizza night, meaning we got a margheritta pizza for $10. We also split a bruschetta app and a pork bao bun app. Also wonderful. With our hearts filled with joy, we set out to go to Maine Street, my little brother's dream place to be.

Shocker: on a Wednesday night at 7:30 PM, it was empty. We decided we'd wait a bit and come back instead of walking in there and embarrassing ourselves, so we went to the Nubble Lighthouse in York, my favorite spot on the planet to just go and Think. I've never smoked there before, but last night, I pulled out my Marlboro Reds for the first time this year and just admired the beauty of the ocean and sky. After a little while, we went back to Maine Street only to see it was still empty. So, we made a new game plan: that bear must be in Portland.

We drove another hour north to a place that came up called Blackstones. However, when we got there, it was clearly a townie (but gay) bar, and that would've been just as awkward. There was no parking anyway.

Our final shot was a place called Cocktail Mary that was luckily just five minutes away! But when we got to the destination, Cocktail Mary was nowhere to be found. We got out and shuffled around the block on their unsalted sidewalks but we couldn't find her anywhere. 

Maybe, just maybe, Maine Street is bumpin now? We got back to Ogunquit at 10:30 pm, but alas, it was not. We decided that the bear didn't want to be found and that it was time to settle for some shithole straight bar an hour back south near my apartment. But luckily, my cousin came up with a genius idea: Applebee's. It was a place that neither of us had fond memories of, but it was open until midnight and was just across the border in Portsmouth after the Maine Bridge (apparently it's actually called Piscataqua Bridge, which I just learned now). 

Chasing our imaginary bear through the gay forest had led us right to its honey pot: happy hour. We both got Long Island Iced Teas the sizes of our heads for $6 each. We didn't plan on ordering any savory food again that night, but we decided to order onion rings for absorption's sake.

the photos can't portray the gargantuaness of this drink.

Finally, we each got lava cakes that I definitely didn't burn my mouth on. It was a truly beautiful night, and we drove home happy, as my stomach cursed me out for everything I had just put it through. It wasn't the night we expected, but it was still a blast anyway.

My Music Collection

Todays CD (I remembered!) is What's Your Pleasure? by Jessie Ware, a beautiful dance-pop album influenced by disco, funk, and house music. When I first got my new car and didn't have an FM transmitter yet, this CD was on repeat for weeks. Probably one of the most consistent albums I own, as there really aren't any duds on it. My most repeated song is definitely Spotlight by a long shot, though: a song with a groove and hooks that will grab you and never let go.

I have the Platinum Pleasure edition :)

Thanks so much for reading! I hope everyone's doing well, and I'll see you guys tomorrow. -G