If it’s a weekday and if it’s around 12:15pm, there’s a good chance I’ll be sitting in my car in a strip mall parking lot in the San Fernando valley sipping a GMO-fruit smoothie from Jamba Juice and listening to non-Justin Timberlake music from my Nexus 5 smartphone. This is how I usually choose to spend my lunch hour, and I’m not the only one. Scattered throughout this parking lot I almost always see other forlorn individuals, men and women, doing the same thing. However, I do not know what they’re eating nor what they are listening to (although I’m 80% certain this one guy in a Toyota Tundra is always listening to Slayer). I don’t know who they are, or where they came from. We are all different, but for that moment in space and time, we are all the same: Weirdos having a shitty lunch in our hot cars in a strip mall parking lot.
This routine has been going on for a little over two years. My personal 9/11 happened two years ago when my wife left me, and my mind overreacted and launched an anti-terror war against my stomach. I couldn’t hold down any solid food so I started drinking smoothies for sustenance. (This is what usually happens when I’m depressed: I can’t eat.) I took anti-depressants to control my mood, and drank alcohol to put me to sleep. I became a lonely, isolated mess who was rapidly losing weight. My life was unbearable. (The smoothies gave me a lot of gas, so life was also unbearable for those who stood next to me.) I started listening to music by Carly Rae Jepsen and reading books by Robert Kiyosaki. (I don’t necessarily regret purchasing Jepsen’s “Kiss,” as it was a non-offensive album, but reading “The Cashflow Quadrant” just made me feel poor.) I even watched tried to watch a season of Grey’s Anatomy. It was probably the most shameful era of my entire existence.
Aside from a few spontaneous posts and reposts, I realize that it’s been more than four years since I last blogged consistently. I’m also aware that those who are reading this are probably new to this site, and those who read this blog years ago are likely no longer around. Folks who are familiar with this blog probably remember it as a place where I wrote about modern culture, progressive politics, dating/relationship disasters, and terrible pop music. Why did I decide to come back?
I’ve always felt that I would blog again whenever the time felt right. I don’t know if that time is now, but I do know that, as someone who has been dealing with depression for more than fourteen years (which is also approximately how long as I’ve been known as Manila Jones!), I’ve come to understand that the time will never feel right. So much has changed since I last logged into this site. In fact, I’m in my car right now at lunch typing these words into my smartphone, something that I could not have done four years ago. I accept that I will likely never feel completely OK, but I suppose that this is the most OK I’ve ever felt. What’s past is prelude, the Universe settles all debts, and time heals all wounds.
I don’t take anti-depressants anymore, but I still go to Jamba Juice. Sometimes I’ll enjoy my lunch inside the store, mostly because the employees are nice to me and they play new hipster songs from bands I’ve never heard of, but most of the time I’ll sit in my car and stream my own music from my Nexus 5. The present is simply the nexus of all occurrences prior, and this blog is my attempt at chronicling that. This blog has been untouched. I’m not going to read what was written before this post, but you’re more than welcome to.
I don’t know who you are or where you come from, but I’ve realized we are all the same: Weirdos finding our way on this desolate rock in the middle of the universe.
