Echoes of the Garage

Fragments of life in Los Angeles — art, film, street stories, and the quiet rebuilding of a man. Start here: Best Of • About • Subscribe.


“Not Being Liked”

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📓 Wednesday, November 12, 2025 — 8:47 p.m.

I am sitting again, typing on my laptop. I drew yesterday, as I should be doing, because I say I want to be an artist. But damn, it’s hard when you have to do deliveries all day of plastic bag cases through South Central and the greater L.A.

So, am I complaining? No — it sounds like I am because my mind would say yes, you are complaining. But the reality is that I’m decompressing my mind a bit. Some people will read this shit. If you are one of those few, thanks.

Writing has become a therapy session that I have whenever I choose to open the laptop.

I am watching TV — I’m watching the Mike Mignola: Drawing Monsters documentary.

Why? Because I can relate, and because I like when someone decides to play in the outskirts of what is deemed acceptable.

I hate the acceptable because I’ve played there, and sometimes in the basement of that.

The acceptable.

I am what some people would call a late bloomer… maybe I will never bloom.

Who knows?

But maybe I will.

The other day I thought, and I said to myself, “Self, you are not acceptable to most because you are too old to some, too intense, too late in life, and too much of a dreamer. But it’s okay to be too much, and it’s okay to be everything wrong.”

Being wrong in life is a death sentence, but I think being wrong means I will try and figure out the comfort of wrong. Explore and see what happens. None of this shit might make sense to anyone — and that is okay. I did say this was a stream of my consciousness.

I decided to just write what I thought and see where it leads. It could be a dark alley met by my local pimp on Figueroa beating one of his hookers, or I could be walking into the middle of the street to buy an ice cream cone.

So, my therapy session will come to an end soon.

I thank those that take the time to read a line or two.

A line or two means you at least allowed your pupils to read some of my configuration of letters that formed words and then sentences.

Thank you. See you in my next therapy session. I will now finish my documentary.



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