The Shrink and the Missing Link

You said I broke your heart, you finally spoke
I said no baby; it was my heart I broke
You said you felt numb; you had to see a shrink
To help you feel again and find the missing link

He said that in that brutal coming apart
You had no voice, which was what broke your heart
We said we were gonna make a decision together
Again 9 days went by with no communication ever

You said you don’t like to fire back, that you hate it
But recovery for you was so easy, it’s overrated
You couldn’t believe it’s been only a month not a year
You’re not bitter or angry or playing a martyr, yet dear

You talked about how you had to improvise
And walked the cold nights with tears in your eyes
But did you tell your shrink how you always said you’d call
And successfully managed to always drop the ball

Did you tell him how you turned me into a convenient box
That you only opened while driving those endless blocks
How you moved to a different city for your career
And planned on moving me there in a little bit over a year

Oh wait, did you tell him when and how we first met
The time we spent together, does he know any of that yet
The songs I wrote and sent you, were returned unheard
The blogs I wrote were also unread and that hurt

But it was me who had to baby you when you felt bad
You broke your own heart; the book you gave me suggested that
My conscience is clear baby, that guilt trip you lurked
Casually into your communication this time did not work

And tell me something love, didn’t your shrink
Tell you that actions usually reflect what people think
Is he telling you now what to eat, when to stop when you drink
How to love yourself and be in harmony and in sync

Now if I may, let me tell you about that missing link
Without any disrespect to your "so called, imaginary" shrink
When you keep on lying and manipulating and don't even blink
You excel at it, but eventually its smell does stink

Now that's what I call a free session .....

Age and Aging, are they the same?

One of the most common concerns in anybody's life is "Age and Aging", and though age is one thing and aging is another, their direction is very similar.

Age is not just a number, it's a representation of your life experience and what you've done with the years you have on you. When I was 20, I certainly loved being that young, but I look back and I tell myself "My God, did I really do that! did I really say this!". My energy was different, but so was my experience and my knowledge. And the world, the world looked fantastic, promising, full of hopes and also full of directions. The potential to a happy successful future was beyond imagination, yes, the sky was the limit.

Turning 30 was not exactly easy, saying goodbye to my 20s? oh boy, that was hard, but I look back and I wonder why was I shocked, why did I tell everyone that I went to bed at age 24 and woke up suddenly at 30? I certainly didn't waste those 6 years, or did I? I'd like to believe that I have learned so much and that my behavior became more rational and more balanced. Then comes 35 and 36 and like most of us, I don't think a day goes by without acknowledging how old I am. I still remember when I was managing a bank, one of my employees asked for some help with his "middle aged customer" as he put it, to my surprise when I met the customer, she was 35 years old, I was 32 back then. I couldn't help but think that night of what is "middle aged"? is there such a thing or is it a term we use to say that in 32 or 35 more years I will die so now I'm middle aged….?

I certainly don't like those labels. If only live 40 years, does that mean at age 20 I was a middle aged man? One of my friends told me something I really liked, she said to me when I was sharing with her how my 20s went by so quickly that I should be celebrating my 30s because I'm in my prime, I liked that. I started celebrating my prime, and I don't think I want to quit that celebration at any age. Each age has its prime, but one thing that's worth the prime celebration at any age is again the knowledge we get with every year, month, day, minute and second we live, with every breath we breathe. It's not optional, we learn and we observe, and the more we learn about ourselves the better off we are. That is age for me. Realistically there are things you can't do after a certain age, for example, I will not be pursuing becoming a gymnastic at age 50 or 60, but I already planned on living a healthy long life by the choices I make. Yes a car can crash me in seconds but that's not what I think of when I make my choices today to have a healthy future tomorrow.

Talking about health, here comes "Aging" and the mask we wear behind the word "healthier". I have seen so many men and women doing plastic surgeries, but plastic surgeries can be categorized differently. Some of them can be severe and some of them can be as simple as fixing your teeth or having a nose job (the oldest plastic surgery). So what makes the simple ones okay and have the world frown on the rest, like injecting botox and having face lifts and so on? I don't know how to answer this question, I can point out the difference between having braces or a nose job which is a in most cases a one time procedure, and having facelifts which people start and don't know when and where or how to stop. Could the motivation be the key factor whether it is to look better or to look younger? and is looking better same as looking younger?

Age is a concern that is overrated, but it is what we made it today. Living in LA for 10 years had certainly taught me how important young age is and how important slow aging is. After all LA has Hollywood and Hollywood is obsessed with youth and beauty. But I turned my back on that because it's a losing game. We are all growing older, and with every year we age, we drag everyone we know with us. Aging is different, we're not all blessed with the same good genes that some of us have. So the reaction is more surgeries to look temporarily better. For me, losing my dad to cancer had taught me that regardless of the look, it's the heath that matters the most, so I plan on living a long healthy life and I do what I can and what I know to make that possible. I throw that out in the world and wish for the best. I feel young and I feel good and I want to feel the same in 10, 20, 30 and 40 years from now.

That Cold Morning

That cold morning
The snow kept on falling
And I heard it wouldn't stop before midnight

That November morning
Winter was dawning
But I had a feeling, I'd be alright

It was cold outside
The storm was fierce
But in my heart the wind felt like a gentle breeze

It was warm inside
I felt happiness
Dancing to the rhythm of my heartbeat

That cold morning
The snow kept on falling
building up a wall, blocking light and sight

It was like a warning
Darkness was forming
But I found the light when I searched inside

And it's simple
It could be a happy song
That brings warmth to your heart when you sing a long
Oh yeah it's simple
A memory from your past
The puts a smile on your face, a nostalgic one that lasts

When the going gets rough
When there ain't much love
When you do your best yet nothing seems good enough
Look back on your history
Remember tough victories
But don't underestimate the healing touch of memories

That cold morning
Was the end of my mourning
For when I reached deep inside, I got in touch with the child
Who whispered "Good Morning,
The snow will keep on falling
But it will make peace and turn all White"

Don't lose interest, Educate...

We live in a multi cultural metro political society, we meet the Asian, the European, the Middle Eastern, the African, the Hispanic, the Indian, we study then work with them, we live next to them, we buy and sell things from and to them. We invite them over and go over, we learn about their habits, their food, their culture and we share ours with them. And there are things we like so much about them and things that we are not crazy about. But regardless of what we like and what we dislike, we become open minded and none judgmental because of the exposure. Regardless how accepting or discriminating we are, the exposure to all those different cultures helps us understand the reason behind certain behaviors and we become more tolerant of things we don’t necessarily agree on or comprehend.

With all that we have the new arrivals every day, those arrive and blend first into their culture, they try to adapt to the American culture too since they live here now, and some make no effort whatsoever. However the new arrivals from the old world like me 10 years ago, grew up with no exposure but to their own tradition and culture. I remember when I first arrived to LA, I would not eat salad with any kind of fruits in it. Salads in my dictionary were a mix of vegetables and a dressing of only olive oil with lemon or vinegar. Anything else, I would be skeptical about. But I also remember clearly my feelings, I used to tell myself, people here don’t know how to eat, they mix up so many things that don’t go together. 10 years later, when my mom and dad arrived, I made them a salad that was my favorite, I don’t know the name but I know it had a bed of cabbage, with apples and oranges, nuts and red beans. Dad looked at the salad with the corner of his eye and said “what is that?” I said Salad, he asked “with fruits in it?” I said "yeah, I didn’t care for it when I first arrived too, I love it now". Mom was open minded about it, I do know however she didn’t really like it at first. The funny thing is that I believe we have the best kind of food here because we have all kind of kitchens, and sometimes these plates from different backgrounds intertwine and come up with more exotic flavors

But that’s a little example of food, there’s so much more that is dealt with differently, an important example is the kind of respect we have for each other’s privacy here, which is stronger than a lot of single-cultured countries, I have to be very sensitive in the way I present this,  I clearly remember when I called people on the phone the first few months or even the first year of my arrival, if my phone call was not returned in an hour or so, I got offended, sometimes I would be driving in a certain neighborhood and find myself driving by a friend's place, I would not think twice if I have some free time to knock on the door without even calling on the phone before before, " surprise!!!" I never thought it was a big deal, at least according to my background,  I learned here not to ask people personal questions that back home it was not just okay, but very normal. Religion is one of them, marital and parenthood status is another, what do you do for living is third and the list goes on….. Till today, I find myself relating in some ways to the new arrivals, I hear new expressions that I don't understand and I answer them funny, I express myself in certain body language that cracks up my friends, I still sometimes mis-express myself talking. And let me be clear here, if someone who you know that he or she is visiting or immigrated recently asks you certain questions, do not let that question turn you off, maybe even answer it if you care to, but take the time to explain once what is and what is not appropriate even if it's a given, believe me when I say this, they are thirsty to adapt, they're hungry to be politically correct without losing their identity, and they're frustrated with the cultural differences too. Do those questions make the new arrivals bad or rude? I wouldn't think so. I say, give them a chance, don't lose interest in them immediately, educate them and let me them surprise you, they won't forget what you taught them, but more importantly, they won't ever forget you

My Signature

Take away my dreams, they're all about you

My ambitions, my hopes and everything I pursue

Take my poems, re-write them, then claim them yours

I will write more, all for you and all about you for sure

Take my songs, play them, sing them, change their rhythm

Take away from them or find more to go with them

Reproduce them, flip their genre from pop to blues

Whatever it is, I would  trust anything you choose

Take away my senses, and my all pretty much

Mold me into what you like, recreate me with your own touch 

But keep me alive and keep my only purpose loving you

I'll survive because loving you is all I know and all I do

Take my happiness and give me your grief

Replace my faith with your disbelief

Take my peace and give me your anger

Take my safety and give me your danger

Replace my strength with your weakness

My health will cure in you any sickness

Take my laughter and give me your tears

Take my security and give me your fears

Change every thing I have, be my God, be my creator

Loving you would still be my profession, I'm no amateur

No matter how much you take, no matter if you still want more

Just leave me one thing and I hope it's not much to ask for

My name
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My signature

Happiness, a very subjective topic

Mom used to raise her hands up to the sky and lift her head high and pray for us to become rich. She always said that money helps people become happy.  Any parent who loves their children would want the best for them, to the best of their knowledge.


Dad got diagnosed with cancer seven months ago and left us now. I keep on thinking, if I had millions of dollars, I still wouldn’t be able to save his life, lessen his pain, make him happy, make my mother and sisters happy. My family lives overseas, I visited twice last year to be with them and I realized how great the support around dad was, my sisters came every day, my brothers in law were always ready for help. Yet no amount of money would have changed the situation. We are blessed with the love we have for each other, that makes us rich, that made a difference in the last days of a man who had his share of pain dying a little every day, he was not put in a far away hospital with a nurse and a doctor whom he never met in his life, he died on his own bed amongst his wife, daughters and youngest sister.



Twenty one days ago was the start of 2010, when I made a phone call to wish my family a happy new year, Dad was still alive, very weak though. I talked with everyone and wished them all a better year, I asked mom to give dad a kiss for me and to tell him how much I love him. My sister said “let’s put the handset close to dad’s ear and have him hear it directly from you”, they did, when I talked back with mom, she was crying, my sisters were crying. Mom said “Happy new year babe, I wish you a better year; I want you to be happy, be healthy and you’re rich, it’s my # 1 wish for all of you this year”. Those were mom’s words as she’s approaching her sixty, the very same woman who always prayed for her children to be rich.



Happiness for me is different of course from others’, we all have different priorities, different abilities to adapt to our reality. As I mentioned before, I love people, but I don’t need to constantly be around them every day. I need my space for my writings, to meditate, to relax, I can not not have a "me" time. One of my friends for example has different needs, he can not be isolated for a full day from people, he breathes conversations, interactions and he requires attention. That’s what makes him happy. So the question is, is there a recipe for happiness? Yes and no, it’s different from one person to another, but the key is knowing yourself to know what makes you happy. Mine is simple, balanced social life, balanced working hours, good healthy food and fun outdoor activities cut it for me. Money? I love to be able to afford all of the above and I’m happy, what am I going to do with the surplus? I’m sure you all have your ideas, hey, I have lots of those too, but it ain't gonna make me happy for a long time.

Unhealthy friendship!

"Do you love me?". Have you ever asked a friend that kind of question? If you did, read on

Childhood friends, Best friends, just friends, so-so friends, girlfriends and boyfriends and there are a lot of other labels for our relationships with people. It doesn’t matter what we call them, we have different reasons to be friends with them. In most cases, initially it is the kind of satisfaction we get out of those relationships as opposed to what we contribute to those people we’re calling Friends. Admit it or not, it is the case for starting up a new relationship. Certain people make us laugh so we like to hang out with them, other people have really good hearts, we feel good and comfortable being around them, others we enjoy writing to and don't mind the distance, and the list of reasons goes on. Now that could be (and should be) only at the beginning. As time goes by, we develop certain feelings (love if you will) and actually care for that person we call a friend, regardless how the whole thing started.

Friendships that started in the past when we were much easier to get along with, sometimes drag into the present. I'm using the word "Drag" instead of a positive word to point out the one common mistake that a lot of people fall into; the moral obligation of keeping it going for the sake of the shared common history. Going all the way to the past, reflecting on how our relationships started, it used to be simple and about convenience. Like how close by we lived, did we play the same kind of games, how well/bad our grades at school were, what kind of music we listened to, and of course did our mothers allow the friendship. Those are reasons we would not necessarily open up to a stranger as adults and let them into our lives today because now we’re “mature” “selective” “picky” “know what we want” …. etc. I can’t help but cherish the simple life we had when we were simple. It was easy to get along with so many people when we were younger. But that’s not the point here, it is what we do with an ancient relationship when we feel that all it's doing is damage, all its causing is drama, and all it's bringing to the table is grudges. How and when do we stop it? How strong are we to not fall back into it?

So I'm going to ask the real question, "Do you hate me?"  Well, I shouldn't have waited to get to this point, I admit, I made a huge mistake, but I had no way of knowing that watering a damaged plant is like feeding a cancer in your body. All it does is spread it more to destroy you. "Do you hate me?" is a question you should never ask your best friend, or your friend. If you reach that point, know that you should have stopped that friendship a long long time ago.