I Write To Exist

"For most writers, the act of writing is a form of therapy. A way of making sense of the world and their place within it" -James Runsie

I first heard this quote when I was watching the documentary J.K. Rowling: A Year In The Life. I watch this documentary a million times, for it reminds me of one of the people that inspired me to be a writer. But this quote really stood out to me. It's been years and I still can't shake it off my head. 

Why does this quote stay in my head? Why does it feel the need the follow me like a ghost?

I was puzzled about this for a long time. Then I began to experience reality. I began to go through these experiences that has slowly shaped me into the person that I am now. I've grown up a bit and I now understand this quote. I know it because it's how I feel about my life.

There are times when I walk around the streets of New York City and ask myself "Why am I here?" I have my moments when I feel so out of place with reality. I look at a sidewalk and wonder why it's there. I eat a sandwich and ask why does it take so good or if it's even real. I look at the trees and wonder how old they are. I even look at people and wonder if they're even real.

I sometimes feel like a ghost wandering around the face of the earth. So how do I stay in touch with reality? Through my writing.

Writing is not only a talent that I have. I consider it also my balance. With writing, it helps me understand myself while continuing to tell great stories. As I go through each experience I can't help but to express it in anyway I can. One of them is writing. So whether it's a funny experience or an incredibly dark, personal experience, I'll get my pen or laptop and start going at it.

When I listen or hear people express to me how they felt about a story I wrote, it makes me feel complete. Whether it's good or bad feedback, I'm greatful that they're actually reading my stories. It makes me feel like I truly play a part in life. It makes me feel like I truly exist.

So this is one of the reasons I write. I write to exist.

Reunited With The Taxi Driver

There was a particular week that I had to take a taxi cab simultaneously. I had to be on time for a few meetings and they were each far away from each other. I didn't mind spending money on a cab during this week. I had a stable salary that allowed me to do it.

I remember having a wonderful conversation with this one taxi driver when I was Brooklyn. Let's call him Roger. Roger and I was talking about music, movies, New York City, etc. We really connected on the ride to my next meeting. 

Once I got outside and turned around to see Roger drive away, something on the inside said to me "You'll be seeing him again."

During the weekend, I ran out of my apartment in a panic. I had to be at a meeting in a half hour and I was far away from it. I spent that whole half hour trying to get a cab, which was difficult to do. All the cabs were going into Manhattan. None of them found an interest to go deeper into Brooklyn.

I was very frustrated in the end. I was late for a meeting and felt I couldn't get out this particular section of Brooklyn.

Suddenly, a cab blew it's horn and stopped for me on the next block. I felt relieved. I was finally going to my meeting. I got in the cab and this is what happened.

"Can you take me there please?" I asked him.

"Hello again," the driver said to me.

I looked up and I couldn't believe my eyes. It was the same guy that drove me to my last meeting. The one I had a wonderful conversation with previously. It was Roger. It's quite hysterical to think that actually happened. You normally never run into the same taxi driver again. Well I did and it was funny.

While on the way to my place, we resumed our conversation. It was as if we just met. That weren't a day older. We talked about the same topics. 

Roger dropped me off and gave me his card. That way, if I needed him again, I could just call the cab company and ask for his number. I got out the car and he eventually drove off. While he was driving off, I couldn't help but think one thing.

Why didn't I give him a better tip?

Blood and Needles

I've been going to the doctor's office since human nature created me. It wasn't a mandatory thing at the time. However, it's starting to become religious. Maybe I just like going to the doctor. Maybe I'm having secret fantasies about doctors. Either way, I've been going to the doctor lately.

Jokes aside, it's because of my mandatory iron count. I'm anemic. So my iron count requires a monthly checkup.

I went into the doctor's office, thinking it's no biggie. All they have to do is take one of my arms and draw blood from it. I've gotten used to seeing my blood drawn and put into mini tubes. I'm still working on actually seeing the needle go in before the blood gets drawn out. I believe that as long as you don't see a bruise, you won't feel the pain. Take it from someone who saw his friend not experience pain on his arm after falling off a skateboard until he looked at it twenty minutes later.

The blood was drawn real fast. So I expected myself to be out of the office real fast and continue on with my day. That all changed when my doctor stopped me before I walked out the door.

"Hold on Mr Caston," she said.

I turned around and went back into my room.

"Yes?" I asked.

"I looked into your file and saw that you have your shots scheduled for today."

My doctor and I discussed a long time ago about me receiving immunizations regarding HPV and hepatitis. We didn't discuss a day to take it. So it was quite a surprise to hear that my doctor scheduled the shots for the same day. I was not ready for it. Sadly, I had to deal with it.

I sat back at the table for another half hour. She came back with five different needles. Up to that day, I've did five shots at once. So sitting there, looking at those pointy, long, tiny needles get filled with liquid. I understood why people have phobias over that item.

I stuck it out. Because technically, I couldn't escape. In less than ten minutes, I've had five needles put into me. Two for each arm and one for the back of one. The cramps later arrived. The aftermath was much more painful than I expected.

I have to do monthly checkups in the future, but I will never forget that one visit to the doctor last week.

Subway Dancers Jinxed

All of us in New York City have moments when we are majorly irritated by subway dancers. Those dancers that rarely pop up, give you a show, and then ask for tips. It's rare that we actually tip them. If they're really good, that's when we tip.

But it looks like one group jinxed themselves.

I was heading to Brooklyn after having a great time in Union Square. L trains are one of those one trains where entertainment hardly pops up. So you could imagine where my mind was when I arrived on the train. Complete silence.

That is until these groups of dancers came on the train, getting ready to start performing.

"Show time! It's show time!" I'm really starting to hate that quote nowadays.

Their original plan was to start dancing while the train was entering Brooklyn. The longer the ride, the better chance they had of getting money. I was sitting there right next to them, getting ready to pull out my headphones. I was not in the mood for a group of dancers. I've had a full week with them. It's enough.

Mother nature must've heard my thoughts. On the last stop before the long ride to Brooklyn, a police officer got on the train, saw the dancers, and stood right in front of them. This instantly stopped the dancer's attempt to try and not pull any dance moves. Of course, the boys were disappointed in that. But of course, you know what I was thinking.

"You've couldn't have come a better time officer."

My Thoughts On Caring

Half the night is already gone and I'm wide awake. I feel like a dog who has the ability to wake up at any time they want and never get exhausted. They just yawn, drink some water, and continue another day as a dog.

I can't sleep due to my inner thoughts causing me to think about caring. I sometimes wonder what that word means to people. I sometimes think people are misinterpreting it and bringing to life the devil's version of the word. God forbids that word should never exist. After all, if that word didn't exist, we would all be dead by now.

I, for one, am a person that truly cares. My life almost surrounds that word. I care about myself. I care about others. I care about my career. I care about life. I show care in all kinds of forms because I want to show that there is truly another person in this world that shows love. Of course, there are times when I cross the levels of caring by being overly affectionate and getting attached to people faster than the average person shouldn't do. I just can't help it. It's in my blood.

There are times though when I believe I'm the only person on this planet that truly follows the definition of the word “care”.

Nowadays, I see people use that word as a sign of weakness. Or better yet, as their secret weapon. As soon as a caring person walks into their life, they consider it either an illness or something they can use against that person. It's as if caring people were born to be used and abused because they don't know how to put their emotions to the side completely until their alone and not around other people.

I truthfully admit that my acts of caring for others, even though I love myself more, has been used against me and fed to the enemies for their own pleasure. A kind, short, quirky, hardworking man in his twenties with a smile on his face 90% of the time. That's easy for almost anyone to chew up and spit out without a care in the world how that person feels after putting scars on them.

Sometimes I wonder if I should keep all of my caring to myself. Let others know how it feels not to care. Sadly, my Libra self can't. It against my natural state of mind to hold grudges or be completely angry. All I can do is self reflect while moving at a glacial pace. That and change the many chapters of my life (people, places, etc.) whenever I  feel my acts of caring is being abused or not even being paid attention to because people find annoying like the everyday outsider.

Why does life have to be so difficult when it comes to caring?

I Am The New Social Media Manager For "New York Dog Nanny"

It's finally time for to reveal something that I've known for quite a while. I didn't want to say anything because I wanted to make sure it was official. I am officially a intern as the social media manager for the company New York Dog Nanny.

It's a wonderful store that's all about caring for dogs. If you need a walker, they're here for you. If you need someone to dog sit, stay for the night, groom, etc. This is what the company is for and I loved them.

I'll be in charge in making sure there is content on their Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus, Yelp, etc. You might even find some writing from me too. I promise you guys that there will be funny material and I good time on these pages.

I'm still laughing about the interview. When I walked inside, I was immediately introduced to a crowd of dogs that were ready to run me down when I reached the door. Also, Cynthia (the manager) and I were bouncing so many ideas off of each other. We have thoughts of how-to videos, funny blog posts for the blog, creating campaigns, etc.

I truly can't wait. Starting Monday, expect great things from us over at New York Dog Nanny.

But first everyone, I would like everyone to do me a favor. I want everyone to follow New York Dog Nanny on their social media pages. That way, when the material comes up you'll know when they come up. So LIKE and follow them. This is going to be an amazing ride.

Official Website: http://newyorkdognanny.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/newyorkdognanny?fref=ts
Twitter: https://twitter.com/newyorkdognanny
Google + https://plus.google.com/u/0/114305361994720449194/posts
Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/user/NewYorkDogNanny

The Soundtrack Of Your Life

Everyone has a soundtrack to their life. There are even times when their favorite song plays in the background.

Coincidence? I think not.

I for one am a lover of music. I listen to all kinds of songs. My iPod shuffle is constantly blowing music into my ears. Every single that I listen to is a reflection of who I am as a person. It reminds me of a particular time in my life that I can remember just by pressing play.

Have you ever had that moment when the right sound played in the background no matter where you were? My life certainly does that. If I'm happy or sad, a feel good song or an incredibly sad song plays in the background unexpectedly. I don't consider it a coincidence. I truly believe that whatever you're feeling comes out in reality in any shape or form.

Since the day I can remember I've been creating my infinite playlist. It's a notebook that contains every song that's a reflection of my life. I do it so that one day, I can reflect on way I love these songs, and to remind me how much I went through at those particular times of my life.

What's the soundtrack of your life? If you don't have one, create it.