Jan 10: I have some unfortunate news guys. It’s 4:23 in the morning and I am in Grand Junction Colorado. I was on a Greyhound back across the states because my wallet was stolen out of my backpack while I was staying in the Banana Bungalow Hostel in West Hollywood. I had decided to retire my journey for the fact that my wallet is my everything. I had 50 dollars cash, my debit card, and my I.D. in there. I could honestly care less about the cash, I wish they would have just would have just taken the cash and left my wallet. I am no one without my I.D. I could have gotten someone to access my bank account and wire me some money, and my journey could have continued. I could have continued my journey either way and lived on the streets to provide for you guys one hell of a story. I thought long and hard about the decisions I was going to have to make. I made it my everything to provide fun, interesting stories for everyone who followed me, and there is a lot of people in Los Angeles who need my help. I was leaning towards giving it a shot out on the streets, but then I realized that it would be a good idea to take myself into consideration. Yes, its selfish I know, and that really killed me. If you think about it though, how the hell would a 20 year old suburban boy ever make it on the streets in big bad L.A.? Riding around on an expensive bike, with expensive gear. I was a prime candidate for a mugging. With no I.D. to prove who I was I would be just another nobody living on the streets. If I were to get robbed, stabbed, shot, killed, I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. If worse came and I was actually killed no one would ever know. I would just completely disappear. There would be no way to identify the body because my wallet was gone and I’m not from the area. It’s not what I wanted to do but I had to put my dreams on hold and come home. I say I’m putting them on hold because I refuse to lose the passion in my heart that wants to create some positive change in the world. Before I get too lost in my thoughts, please let me explain to you the events that led up to such an unfortunate out come.
Jan 8: I had just finished posting my most recent blog using the computers the hostel so kindly provided. I wanted to check out Hollywood so I hopped in the shower, got dressed, and took off. Not gonna lie, Hollywood was pretty fuckin’ sweet. There were tons of massive stores, a bunch of movie theaters, food vendors on the side of the street, street performers, and just people man. People were everywhere, mainly foreign tourists. What had really peaked my interest was the Hollywood walk of fame. I rode up and down Hollywood Boulevard just reading all the names and all the symbols. I was fascinated by the symbols. The use of symbols is to represent certain ideas or qualities. It was at that moment that I started to get flooded with ideas and inspiration. I wanted my name on one of those stars, more importantly was the symbol. the stars on the Hollywood walk had movie cameras, a microphone, vinyl records, and two other symbols that I can’t quite remember. Those symbols obviously represented what Hollywood was all about. It was cinema, and media that drove Hollywood. I wanted my symbol to be a little different. I wanted a heart. Now that’s a dream if you ask me. I wanted to create so much of an impact and be such a great inspiration that Hollywood would notice me. I have no idea how I am going to do such a thing. I mean does anyone ever know what’s going to happen when they are chasing their dreams? Of course not, that’s why they’re called dreams. You haven’t made them a reality yet. I was going to get my name on a star and nothing was going to stop me.
Filled with all of these ambitions, hopes, dreams, and pent up energy I started riding. I wanted to see the Hollywood sign. I looked to my left and so a big mountain so I figured it has to be along there somewhere so I headed in that direction. I didn’t find it at first but I kept riding, took a couple turns, started heading up a big hill and bam! Hollywood sign right in front of me. I continued the steady uphill climb just to come across a sign stating that the trail to the Hollywood sign was closed. I turned around and headed back down the hill. I got back to the the hostel and placed my backpack on the bed and went out on the balcony to make a couple of phone calls. What I failed to notice was the arrival of new luggage in the room. There was luggage but no people so I just walked past the luggage and didn’t pay any attention to it. I was out on the balcony for about two hours. When I was finished with my phone calls I walked back into the room and my heart sank immediately. My bag was open. I held my breath as I approached my bag, I peeked into the pocket and to my dismay I found that my wallet was gone. I fell to my knees and started pulling everything out of my backpack. As I was searching I heard the door to the room close. I looked up and something was different about the room. One of the beds was now empty, and there were less bags. It had to be the thief! I stood up and bolted out of the room, I ran through the halls straight down to the lobby but alas, the suspect had fled the scene. I told the person at the front desk, but they were no help. I immediately called my bank and cancelled my card. I was devastated. My wallet was gone.
With all that being said I had no choice but to come home. The experience was absolutely phenomenal though! I’m not going to let such a small thing sway me and discourage me from my dreams. There’s a big world out there that is mine for the taking. I will continue to write, and I will continue to travel. This is just a minor setback, a little speed bump if you will. It just really sucks because I had such big plans. I had decided to just stay in L.A. and just meet as many broken, helpless people as I could and continue to spread the love! I really wish I could have stayed, and I’m terribly sorry that I had to come home. I know I’m going to lose a lot of support and followers for this but, I’ll just gain them back next time! So again, I will continue to always follow my dream and spread the love, even back here in Pennsylvania. I guess my plans now are to save more money, and train, and I was also thinking of searching for a travel partner. Thanks again guys, you still mean everything to me. ❤
Jan 4th: After everything that had happened the night before in Redondo I decided to head up the coast. I didn’t really have an plans besides to try to meet people. I pedaled from there to Manhattan Beach, around Marina Del Rey, then stopped in Venice to get something to eat. I got a grilled chicken sandwich, some fries, and a bottle of orange Fanta. The food was good and all but for some reason I just couldn’t get over how great the soda was. It’s not like i haven’t had orange soda before, I guess since I was pretty parched and tired from riding it just completely revitalized me. I had developed a slight addiction to orange soda. Judging by the people I had been associating myself with there was worse things that I could have acquired an addiction to. After I had finished my drink and had a smoke I hopped on my bike and headed towards Santa Monica. It was dark by the time I got there so I decided to get off the bike path and head into the city.
I was bored and alone so I resorted to what most people do when they are bored and alone. Alcohol would surely keep me from being bored! I know I have been writing about drinking quite frequently, and it might sound like I have a problem. The thing is all the people who I have asked have not known where the weed was at. I could find Dope, Crack, or Crystal in a heartbeat though. I’m not into that so my next option was alcohol. I meandered into a convenience store and grabbed to of those Lime-A-Rita things and asked for a pack of smokes. I feel like if I didn’t ask for the cigs I wouldn’t have gotten carded, but of course he asked to see my I.D. I was denied sale and left the store. I wasn’t mad or disappointed because I knew I would just find another place. I headed deeper into the city when I noticed a guy on a skateboard skating towards me. He stopped at the crosswalk I was at waiting to cross the street so I decided to introduce myself. I could tell from the second I saw this guy that he was going to be a really cool dude. His name was Richard Amaya, he was 29 and probably the most down to earth dude I have met so far. For some reason we just clicked. If I were to bring him back home with me he would fit in so well with my friends. He told me about things I should do and see while I was here, he also bought some drinks for me. We ended up talking for a solid four hours but it was time for us to part ways. I got his phone number and Instagram and we left.
I got on my bike and realized I was pretty drunk, but what the hell I knew I was in control. I rode back to the beach and continued to head up the coast. As I rode along the bike path I would shout motivational words of encouragement to random passers-by. They all would look at me like I was crazy and not a single person said anything back. You really start to see how fucked the world is becoming when you tell someone that they are awesome and all they can do is give you a look of uncertainty and disgust. Try it sometime and you’ll see what people are really like. Things like that won’t deter me though, I’ll teach the world how to love again. I eventually reached a park where I decided to sit down and take a break. I lit a smoke and and relaxed a bit when I heard some shuffling behind me. I put my hand on my knife and turned around. It was a young homeless man who couldn’t have been older than 25. He approached me and warned me that there was a cop walking down the path and i couldn’t smoke at the park or even be there at night. He told me to follow him, and I had some decisions to make. I looked around and noticed the cop heading towards us, I made the decision to follow the homeless man because I saw it as an opportunity to see what he was about. His name was Havik James Alexander Valencia, he was 23 from New York and clearly was addicted to Crystal Meth. I asked him why he was out here, and living on the streets. He told me that his parents were murdered by the Russian Mob due to unpaid debts. So he started his life on the streets at the age of 7, started doing drugs shortly thereafter. He walked to California from new york at the age of 19 and it took him 6 months to get here. Truly a heart wrenching story. We continued to get to know each other and I figured it was time I told him about myself. It’s surprising what gestures people who have nothing will make when you show them a little love and compassion. He was very fascinated with what I was doing and really appreciated it, so he gave me a brand new container of pain relieving balm. That right there was proof enough that if you give, you will get. Even though I didn’t give him anything physical, he was feeling my vibes and knew I meant nothing but good things. So I guess that was his way of wishing me luck, and showing me support. I couldn’t have been more thankful. I decided to bid him farewell and call it a night. Somehow I ended up right across the street from a really nice hostel called Hostelling International. I checked in at 3 O’clock in the morning and passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Me and Havik, chillin.
Jan 5th: I woke up at 8 and decided to take advantage of the free breakfast they were providing. They had pancakes, toast, and cereal. I chose the cereal. I wanted to eat quick because I had decided to continue heading north up the coast so I could start backpacking and see the Big Sur. The Big Sur is about a 90 mile stretch of pure scenic beauty. It’s where the Santa Lucia mountains rise abruptly from the Pacific Ocean in the central coast of California. There’s plenty of places to camp and I wouldn’t have to worry about spending money or sleeping on the streets and getting robbed. When I finished eating I took a shower and left the hostel. While setting up my bike the only thing on my mind was miles. I had planned to ride from Santa Monica up the Pacific Coastal Highway (PCH) and through Malibu into mountain territory. I rode for a good 30 miles and saw a big up hill stretch. I prepared myself mentally and decided to push on. It wasn’t a steep hill, it was a steady incline and those suck. Not to mention, I’m 250 pounds, with 40 pounds of gear on the back of my bike and a 25 pound back pack on my back. Needless to say my thighs were about to burst into flames, when I hit a sign that read “road closed.” There was an officer sitting in his patrol car there so I asked him what was up. Turns out there was a rock slide and a good portion of the road was covered in rubble and I wasn’t allowed to pass through even though I was on a bike. He told me that section of the PCH was going to be closed for about two weeks while the performed demolition to try and even out the grade of the slope on the hill tor prevent more rock slides. I asked of there were any roads where I could sneak around. Of course there wasn’t, if I wanted to get to the big sure I would have to bike around the entire mountain range and that would eat up way too much of my time. I had no other choice but to head back down the PCH. It was late at this point so I stopped at the first gas station I saw and asked the attendant if there were any places to camp around here. Since I was literally in the dead center of Malibu there were no places to camp. The guy I was talking to offered to let me sleep in this half built shed, and offered me a free hot chocolate. I took what I could get and slept there for the night.
Leaving the hostel.
Jan 6th: Let me tell you when your plans get absolutely ruined and you’re forced to sleep next to a gas station you don’t wake up the next morning in the best of moods. Luckily, I have a sweet heart back home who shows me the utmost support and always knows what to say to keep me going. She will remain nameless out of respect. I pushed on and headed south on the PCH. I stopped at a McDonald’s to charge my electronics. While I was there I saw a drifter sitting outside who was panhandling. I decided to sit next to him and talk to him. I shook his hand and asked him what his name was. He opened his mouth and moved his lips but no words came out. He couldn’t talk! I still was interested in who he was so I asked if I could get a pen and paper and talk to him. He nodded his head in agreement, so I asked him to write his name down and where he was from. I went inside the McDonald’s and bought him a burger. When I came back out he had written that his name was Hara and he was originally from Maryland. I asked why he was here in Cali and he wrote that he wanted to be in the sun. I liked his vibes. He wrote down that he was living in Santa Monica first and took a vow of silence because it was more peaceful. He lived in Santa Monica for about a year and worked his way towards Malibu because the vibes were “sweeter.” He was happy, and it was nice to see that. When all my things were fully charged I shook his hand and departed. When I finally made it back to Santa Monica I took Sunset Boulevard towards Hollywood. I rode, and rode and riding on the streets of L.A. is pretty dangerous man. People think they are so much more important than you and I had to weave in between parked cars and moving cars on 6 lane roads. It got dark before I knew it so I made my way to this place called Banana Bungalow In West Hollywood. I checked in to my room and met this really cool English fellow who was currently on 6 month trip around the world. He asked me if I was hungry and wanted to go get some burgers with him. Of course I accepted because peanut butter and trail mix start to get old after a while. When we got back to the hostel I decided to just kick back and start writing. Eventually I passed out with my notebook and pen on my chest.
My boy Hara.
The view from Sunset Boulevard
Now I would hate to disappoint my readers with not having some crazy exciting story about how I saved someones life or how I made someone throw out their drugs, but you can’t possibly expect me to be able to do that every night. So I figure in the meantime while I try to put myself out there and interact with many people to try to develop a good story. I would continue to write and update my blog with posts about what it’s like to be out here all alone chasing a dream and the hardships that are sure to come. I also plan on making posts that reveal what goes on up in my crazy head. I feel it’s about time I got personal with you guys too. So please, stay tuned and don’t lose faith in me. You guys are what keeps me going, and as long as I have the support of at least a couple of people I promise I will try my absolute hardest to pursue my dreams. Thank you all, you mean the world to me.
It’s my fifth day in California, and I’m sitting in a bed in a hostel right now. Hostels are probably one of the greatest things ever thought of. They’re essentially like a bunch of dorm rooms in a building. When I say dorm rooms I mean that you share them with other people. Now you might think that sounds kind of shady but hostels are usually mainly used for people who are traveling, so everyone has to trust one another so these places can continue doing what they do. If people were selling drugs, or getting murdered I’m sure these places would shut down then everyone would be screwed! It’s not hard to see that which is why everyone respects each other here. The hostels usually have public restrooms, showers, washer and a dryer, free WiFi, and plenty of places to charge your electronics! The place I’m at right now actually had free breakfast for everyone in the morning which was fantastic. With all that being said these places are like sanctuary for the nomadic people. Now please, let me tell you about what happened in the last 2 days
January 3rd: I awoke in the motel 6 in a bad mood just for the fact that my bike was missing. I called the airport ready to flip out. I kept a clear head and calmly asked if there was any news on the whereabouts of my bike. To my surprise they told me that it was delivered to the motel the night before while I was sleeping! No words were exchanged after that, I hung up jumped out of the bed and ran down the stairs to the lobby as fast as I could. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. I got to the lobby from the fourth floor in like 7 seconds and asked if my bike and luggage were there. Oh my God the feeling I got when the motel employee turned the corner with a big ass box that held my bike, I couldn’t believe it. I immediately took it upstairs and began assembling it. It surprisingly wasn’t that hard considering I’ve never done any type of bike mechanics before. When all was said and done I checked out, got a cab, and went to the nearest REI. REI is a recreational equipment store where you can buy a bunch of camping gear, or cycling things, or snowboards and things like that. My focus was on the bike shop so I could make sure I put everything together properly. Of course there were things that were loose but for the most part I didn’t do a bad job. I bought some things from REI that would help me along the way because I planned on doing a lot of backpacking now that I had my bike. I bought things like a water filter to purify water from streams, a little mini pot and cup so i could boil water for the dehydrated meals that I bought. I got a knife, oh and this really cool mini solar panel that I strapped to my back pack so I could charge my things while on the road! Once I bought all my things I packed all my bags right out front of the store and took off towards the beach. I had no idea where I was going so I decided to just follow the sun hoping it would take me to the beach. I ended up heading south while chasing the sun and I ended up in Manhattan beach and I caught the sun just as it was setting.
When I arrived in Manhattan.
I ended up writing on the beach until it got dark, and decided it was time for me to find a place to sleep. Since I was in Los Angeles county still, I figured it would be safer if I tried to look for a hostel. There are a lot of homeless people in L.A. and to be honest with you I’m not too comfortable sleeping with the bums especially with a bike and all my belongings. I Googled local hostels and there was one called Surf City Hostel about 4 miles south on the coast in Redondo Beach. So I got to pedaling. After about twenty or so minutes I arrived at my destination. There were lights, people, live music, a long pier that went pretty far out into the ocean, and the bar scene was bumping! Too bad I’m only 20.
What I saw when I arrived at the hostel in Redondo.
It was my first time staying in a hostel, so I was a little nervous. I was extremely relieved to find out that everyone was extremely friendly and welcoming. People were cooking food in the kitchen there was a lounge where people were playing guitars, talking, and watching T.V. After I was shown to my room I decided it was time to charge my phone, Ipod and take a shower. I wanted to see what the nightlife was like here as opposed to Venice or Santa Monica. I did visit those places and they were beautiful, but there were a lot of fiends and drug addicts and it was night time so I wanted to get out of there. Nothing too exciting happened that was worth writing about. Sorry, I got off topic. When I walked out into the street there were many different scents that filled the air. You had the faint smell of the ocean, I say faint because the Pacific is nowhere near as salty as the Atlantic. The smell of fresh food was very distinct too. You had a mixture of seafood, burgers, Mexican foods. The food culture is very diverse down here.
I walked on off to another spot, looking for people to make petty small talk with to see what kind of people hung out in Redondo. Honestly I have social anxiety so it’s very hard for me to talk to people if i don’t have a drink or two in me first. That didn’t stop me nevertheless, I was here for a reason and nothing was going to deter me. So I approached a small group of people two guys and one girl. The one guy was an elementary school science teacher yet he told me he teaches them more about life than science. So I liked him, his friend was actually from Germany and had a very thick accent but his English was good, his name was Florian. Thats the only name I was able to remember from that group only because it was so unique. The girl didn’t really talk much but she was cool. They started to ask me why I was here and why I was doing what I was doing. I told them something along the lines of I was starting a blog, and I wanted to travel to try to make people happy, and make friends and just love and connect with everybody. They liked it, they told me that it was good that I had a dream and was chasing it. They went back to the bar and I was alone again.
Casually I meandered down the little concrete walking path that ran along the beach. I decided I was gonna try to find some weed or try to get some beers or something. I managed to buy a little 12 pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon. I found a nice spot where people were already drinking so I joined the party. Little did I know it was just two homeless guys slinging meth. Didn’t stop me from hanging out though, of course I turned it down when they offered it. I wanted to get to know them, I was a couple beers in at this point and was pretty tuned up. They were both very short, I’m 6’3″ so there’s a lot of short people compared to me. These guys were tiny though! The one who offered me the meth was an older Hispanic man and his name was Peter. He got all sketched out because he thought he saw cops so he hopped on his bike and took of real quick. There were no cops. The man that I was left alone with his name was Lusean Arline. I had no idea about the experience I was going to have with this guy. First of all he was fucked up, and I don’t use that term lightly. I’m not gonna lie I used his inebriation to my advantage. If there is one thing I learned it’s that when people are so far separated from themselves due to the actions they took to try to distract themselves from who they truly are, that’s when their true colors show. So, I pried. Say what you will about me but I was curious. At the same point though I wasn’t making him uncomfortable, I let him open up to me when he was ready. Once we established a sense of comfort I began to ask more personal questions. You know the ones you think of when you see homeless people for the first time. I asked him questions like, “where is your family?” He said they hated him. I asked why, and he never answered. I decided to try asking why he was on the street, why he doesn’t have a job, and then he broke. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands and started crying his eyes out. I made a cold, drug addicted homeless person feel again. I felt great! Well, I didn’t feel good about making him cry but I felt good about the break through. I tried helping him up but he told me he wanted to go to sleep. So, I took out my little pocket journal and I wrote him a note, the note read: 1. Wake up. 2. Get your fucking shit together. 3. Try to apply for a job. 4. Be the best person you can be. I asked him if I could put it in his pocket for him so he wouldn’t lose it and he let me. Before I left he called out my name and looked me dead in the eyes and said “Thank you for being so nice to me.” I patted his shoulder and walked away.
I went back to where I had put my beers and there was a man standing there. I walked up introduced myself and we started talking. His name was, (good luck with this one) Huaembukie Wazigau. He told me to just call him Joseph. He was from Papua New Guinea but was here for college. We got to talking I was learning about his heritage and culture when he pulled out a bottle of Hennessy! He offered shots, I accepted. He started telling me about how much he loved the white women over here in America. When all of a sudden there goes some girl walking down the beach towards the ocean and Joseph was already in hot pursuit. I was like “oh man, that doesn’t look good.” There goes some young girl storming off towards the ocean with a black man practically jogging after her I thought he was gonna get maced or something so I followed. I told Joseph to slow down, and he started walking next to me. She was still walking but we were trying to catch up to see what she was doing when I heard some faint sobs. She was crying. We caught up to her and I stood in front of her but kept my distance and asked her if she needed help with anything. Joseph had other plans. He was hugging her and getting all up in her face practically smothering her. I told him to back off and let her breathe. He got fed up and left, what great help he was anyway. So now it was just her and me, two complete strangers sitting on the beach. One was crying, one was smiling. I wasn’t smiling because she was crying, I was smiling because I knew someone else needed me and that smiles are contagious. She looked up at me, first at my eyes, then at my stupid smile, then my eyes again. I saw a small smile start to form but she cut herself off when she asked me if I was from around here. I said no and that I was from Pennsylvania and I told her my reason for being here. She seemed pretty blown away for my reason being here. She asked me why I wanted to do what I was doing, which is when it hit me. It was at that moment I realized, the people who i have been able to get through to and impact the most are the ones who are broken, and distraught. I could talk to all the people I want but if they’re already caught up in their blissful lives to not even care about anyone but themselves then I will never impact them. They just wouldn’t care enough. So I told her “I’m here to find the most broken people and try to make them whole again.” I finally got her to smile, then she proceeded to tell me why she was so upset. She comes from a wealthy family in some rich part of California and her parents have sent her on multiple dates with this guy who she doesn’t even like. Her parents want her to marry him because he has money, and financial stability and blah blah blah. Fuck money. Her heart resides with someone else though! (kinda sounds like a Disney movie at this point) The other person isn’t actually financially stable, and doesn’t have a steady job but that doesn’t matter. You want to know why? He makes her happy. What more could you ask for? I gave her the obvious advice and told her that the heart wants what the heart wants. She was worried her parents weren’t going to approve, doesn’t matter. There are those influences I was talking about. Parents fearing for their daughter’s well being wants her to marry a rich man, while the daughter absolutely hates it and wants what will make her happy. She is afraid of her parents disapproval, her parents are afraid of her not being comfortable. I told her that no matter what you decide your parents will always continue to support and love you so just do you. She sat up straight and stared out across the ocean into the horizon and took a deep breath. She looked at me and told me if it weren’t for me coming down and talking to her she was going to throw herself into the ocean just to see what would happen. She asked me to help her up and said she was ready to back to the mainland. As we were walking she intertwined her arm with mine and held on tightly. I could sense a connection and a bond that formed in the short amount of time that we talked and I know she could sense it too. When we arrived at the bar her friends and her “date” were standing outside. She pointed him out to me and she started to tear up again. I pulled her in close for a hug and she hugged back. Man, I swear she was trying to break my spine or something with that one, damn. I put my hand on her arm, looked her in the eyes and told her to make sure she always does what makes her happy. I lit a cigarette, and walked away.
You have no idea how awesome I felt that night. I have more content, but I’ve been typing for the last four hours and I’m trying to make it up into Malibu and into state park territory so i can actually start camping without being worried about getting mugged. I’ll be sure to continue to follow my dream and help as many people as I can. Stay Golden guys ❤
Alright, well my first day in Los Angeles was quite and experience. It all started at the airport. I finally arrived in LA running on absolutely no sleep. I tried finding my bike and my suitcase, but to my dismay the airline misplaced it and they weren’t able to find it. I was not happy and I’m currently in the process of trying to see if I can get some compensation encase I need to spend another night in a hotel. It’s completely irresponsible on their part for losing my stuff. My life was in those bags. Either way, there will be Hell to pay if they cant find my stuff.
Oh well, that didn’t stop me from having a good time! I ended up hailing a cab and going to a motel 6 in Inglewood about 2 miles from the airport. From there I took a shower and got all fresh and clean and went for a walk to try to find some grub. I walked not even a block away from the motel before I encountered my first beggar. He didn’t ask for any money right away, but I knew his intentions just by the way he looked. Missing teeth, yellowed bloodshot eyes, crazy hair, ragged clothes, and kind of smelly. Even though he was all of those things he seemed kind of nice and actually intimidated by me. When he first approached me he told me not to shoot him, or not to foot ball tackle him. I mean, I am a pretty big guy so I guess that’s pretty good so I’m not a first option for a mugging. I told him not to make me football tackle him and decided to stick around and hear him out. He told me about how he just got released from the hospital because he suffers from seizures and needed a place to stay. He showed me three massive pill bottles claiming them to be his “medicine.” I’m not too sure if it was an attempt to sell me drugs, but I wasn’t buying. He continued to tell me about how he needed money to stay at the motel I was in because he had no family and he was the only one left. Also, about how he can’t rely on anyone but himself. guess what, that’s the harsh reality of life dude. I told him I had nothing but a card on me, wished him well, patted his shoulder and left.
I ended up eating at this place called El Pollos Locos. It was basically a Boston Market, but with a Mexican twist. I got chicken, mashed potatoes, and french fries! The cool thing about it is they give you little tortillas to make you own burritos, so just imagine how mine tasted. I finished my meal, walked outside, lit a smoke and carried on my merry way.I didn’t even make it out of the parking lot before this young lady nearly hit me with her car! She seemed very apologetic, I smiled, and told her not to worry about it. I walked down the street trying to find somewhere to buy shampoo, deodorant, lotion, toothpaste, and a t-shirt considering the fact that Spirit Airlines sucks and misplaced my luggage. I eventually found a 96 cents and up store, which was basically a cross between a 7/11 and Walmart. I managed to find everything I needed for less then 10 bucks which was pretty sweet. I left the store and headed back to the motel. I decided to take a nap because I had gone like 36 hours without any sleep at that point and was starting to become delusional.
I slept for four hours, from 4-9. I woke up, brushed my teeth and decided to attempt to go and try to buy some alcohol even though I’m underage. Mission success! I had a bounty of a personal bottle of Jack, a Four Loko, and a small bottle of vodka. This is where the night starts. I walk out the store and up to the crosswalk. At the crosswalk is a white guy and a black guy. As i approach them the black man turns around and nods his head at me and asks me how I was doing. I walked up to him and shook his hand and asked him if they were up to anything fun tonight. The black man introduced himself as Jet, and the white guy well his name was Red. Red asked me if I liked to party so I assumed he was asking if i was trying to go to a coke party or something along those lines. I kindly declined and said all I was trying to do was drink some liquor and maybe walk around Los Angeles for a bit. Red bounced and Jet decided to hang out. So we got to talking and walking and drinking, when he noticed another black fellow down the street and immediately they clicked. Like there is some sort of bond that all black people share where they all can connect with each other. They literally are all brothers and it’s honestly beautiful witnessing a bond like that shared between two people. The new guy joined us on our walk and his name was Fonze (Fahn zay). They were connecting and talking about religion, hopping from topic to topic and honestly I’m not religious so I had no idea what they were going on about. Eventually Fonze left and I was getting kind of cold so I invited Jet up into my room, I had spent the last 4 hours with him and he seemed like a pretty trust worthy guy.
Now don’t get me wrong, I made it clear that if he tried anything at all I would drop him in a fucking heartbeat. I even patted him down to make sure there were no weapons on him, he was clean. So there we were, a white boy from Pennsylvania hanging out with a stranger from the streets of LA. I was surprisingly comfortable. I started showing him the music i was into and he showed me his. I played an album called Red Forest by If These Trees Could Talk and he straight free styled through the entire album. I was completely blown away. I would have recorded it but I was using my phone for YouTube and couldn’t use it for anything else without disrupting the flow. After a little while Jet broke. He told me about how he’s been trying to shake his crack addiction for a while now. That’s why he decided to hang out with me, he saw a certain sense of purity and good vibes within me and figured I’d do him good. He told me about how he feels like he is such a failure because his family has no respect for him and how he was the person his nieces and nephews looked up to. I managed to get to him though, I don’t know what I said, or what I did but I actually managed to get him to throw his crack, and his pipe in the toilet and flush that shit down. So, score for Reece. I managed to persuade him to go back to his family and make things right again, and sent him on his way. Hopefully he took what I had to say to heart and actually followed through with what he said he was going to do. Who knows though, he could have just walked down the street and fallen back into in his old ways. Hey, at least it’ll be a little bit more difficult considering he threw his drugs and pipe away. Either way I can never expect to change a person let alone expect someone to hear me out. The best I can do is just be friendly and vibe with them and hopefully they’ll let me in to their soul and we can get to know each other. The only thing you can do for a person is just be there for them, hear them out, and be a voice of reason, and if they are a genuine person they’ll do the same for you.
I guess that concludes it for this blog entry, I’m not too sure if I’ll have one for tomorrow. I don’t have my bike, and I can’t afford to blow all my money on cabs even though I really want to go to Venice Beach now that I’m done writing. Who knows though, I’m pretty good at getting myself into weird situations so maybe I will have an entry tomorrow.
So here I am sitting in the Fort Worth/Dallas airport in Texas waiting for my flight to Los Angeles to arrive. I’ve met some cool people here and I’m actually hanging out with this chill dude named Jake who actually live in LA so we connected a bit. Anyway, I can’t believe I’m actually following through with my dreams. You have no idea how nervous yet completely ecstatic I am. Luckily I have the greatest group of friends who support me with anything I decide to do. If it weren’t for them I honestly have no idea what I would be doing with my life right now. Oh, you know. Probably wasting away like most other people who get sucked into the distractions society is so willing to provide for them.
I guess this is where it all starts though. I’m 20 years old and it’s my time to shine! I’m on a mission to influence and inspire as many people as I can hoping that my influence will help them take the proper steps in life to chase their dreams and lead an amazing, happy life. See, to me there are a lot of miserable people out there. If I were to make an assumption as to why so many people are miserable, I’d have to say that it’s because people make a lot of the wrong decisions thinking that it will all be alright in the long run but they are sadly mistaken. I see misery and regret mostly in older folk. I have a tendency to study them because they have experienced a lot more life than I have and you can learn a lot from them. From what I can gather is that there are a lot of different factors that play a part in determining whether or not a person will be happy or miserable. Whether it be things like: getting married at a young age, having kids at a young age, falling into debt, working a horrible job. Stress man, stress. It’s so easy to get stressed out and it will literally destroy you. I’m fortunate enough to have been blessed with a positive mind set, a happy-go-lucky attitude, and I usually am able to deal with stress quite well. I like to think that I can keep a clear head, and I know what actions need to be taken in order to beat the stress and prosper and succeed. Honestly, I owe my personality to my friends.
My friends have given me such a positive attitude its unreal. They all view me as a wonderful, genuine person who will stop at nothing just to see others smile and be happy. Which I like to believe is true, but the reality of the matter is THEY are the ones who inspired me. I used to be so sheltered and shut in that the only thing I could do was fantasize about doing something great with my life. I felt practically useless. They showed me love and appreciation when I thought no one ever would. Once I felt love I could not get enough. Love is the most powerful force on this earth. It’s just beautiful, raw, pure energy. As soon as my friends showed me how to love and be loved I just wanted to share it with everyong! It’s too beautiful not to.
So, with the inspiration that my friends have given me, I have decided to boldly go and travel just to spread the love that they have instilled in me. I know I’ll never lose the love because as long as I spread it then it’ll just keep flowing. My original plan was to take a plane to California and ride a bicycle across the country back to Pennsylvania and spread the love and good vibes. Seeing though as it’s the middle of winter, and I have absolutely no prior experience with doing anything like this. My dad had to persuade me to take baby steps and cycle around California and start there. At first I was reluctant to take his advice because I had promised so many people (myself included) that I would stay true to my word. I sort of felt like that I was letting myself and everyone else down. As i discussed it with my friends they still continued to show me complete respect and support. If you think about it, I technically haven’t broken my word because I know in my heart that I will cross the country and I will fulfill my dreams of spreading love, bringing smiles, and of course happiness to everyone I meet! I’ve decided to base my life on a lyric from my favorite song. “It’s spreadin round the love that really keeps the vibe alive.” I know I will continue to prosper as long as i have the support of my friends and everyone else I meet along the way. I have to say a big thank you to those special people in my life who helped me see what I am here to do. You all know who you are. As for the rest of you, we can be that close too. If you show me support, you better believe that I’ll be there to back you. So please, stick around and continue to check on me and see what kind of crazy things I end up getting into.
Hey guys, it’s Reece. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and have come to some conclusions and I am not happy with the way people give up so easily on their lives. I plan on taking a plane to California and riding a touring bicycle back to where I was born and raised in pennsylvania. Now, while on my journey I will make it my ultimate goal to interact with and meet as many interesting characters as I can. I just want to try my hardest to bring smiles to people’s faces and make this world a brighter place. The reason for creating this blog is so I can stay in contact with people I’ve met and so they can keep tabs on me. I’m going to try to keep this blog up beat, unique, creative, and fun. I want people to become a part of the good vibe tribe! There will be more to this blog. Daily updates, photos, videos, music, I’m just a busy man right now. Don’t worry though, you’re all always on my mind.
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