Brandon Stanton's Blog, page 2

“The question everybody wants to know is: why don’t the aliens...

“The question everybody wants to know is: why don’t the aliens contact us if they’re really here? The answer is simple: because it would melt your psyche to contact beings from another dimension. Whether it’s ghosts or spirits or deceased relatives or past lives or future lives or aliens or Bigfoot or fairies, all of it will melt your psyche. Because you’ve been programmed by The Empire to believe those things don’t exist. Unless of course you’re an indigenous person raised on traditional shamanic ceremonies. I learned all this by talking to other humans on other earths in other universes, so I’m trying to not blow your mind right now. When you’re talking about other dimensions you have to use a lot of metaphors, so just imagine earth as North Korea. You’ve probably seen enough documentaries to know what’s going on in North Korea. The North Korean people are completely mind locked and brainwashed, and they have a completely inaccurate understanding of the rest of the planet. Well, that’s the same thing that’s happening here. Earth is the North Korea of the multiverse.”

“It took me a long time to figure out that not being able to get...

“It took me a long time to figure out that not being able to get my homework done doesn’t mean I’m a bad person.”

“I’m turning forty in August. Three kids, full time job. All my...

“I’m turning forty in August. Three kids, full time job. All my kids are under the age of seven. The amount of mental energy it takes, you know, juggling all of them and the constant questions about nothing. I mean, mom is busy, please, just give me a second. My husband tells me that it’s just the season we’re in. We’ll get back to it. But I just want it to slow down so I can pause and breathe. Everything just changes so fast, you know? When you’re a little kid, and you turn into a teenager, it’s like: ‘Oh, I’m changing now.’ But you’ve been coached. You’re prepared for it. Then you go from teenager to college. That’s a big change. Then from college into your twenties, still changing. But at some point you kinda feel like I’m an adult, and I’m done. But you just keep going. It’s like oh shit, no, no, I’m going to keep changing. And these aren’t like the earlier changes. These aren’t the ones you get to plan for. Well some of them are, like: ‘We’re moving to a new place.’ Or ‘I’m going to get a new job.’ Those you can be ready for. But as you get older shit starts getting thrown at you that you’re not planning for. Dodgeballs. And you’ve just got to pivot. And all of the sudden you realize, that moment in time, right before the dodgeball, that was the last time you saw the old you. And you didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

“You’re a slut and a whore for the algorithm. I couldn’t do it...

“You’re a slut and a whore for the algorithm. I couldn’t do it anymore. You can never feed it enough. You start out making art, and hoping that the door will open. You’re looking for that viral moment so it opens up the door and you can do the thing full time. But you start to compromise just to get the door to open: guessing what it wants, debasing yourself, alienating yourself. Until you’re not even in service to your art anymore. You’re in service to the algorithm. Deep down every artist just wants to be seen. Everyone does. And that’s how it controls you. The algorithm makes you behave in a certain way, create in a certain way, in exchange for being seen. And if something can change what you do, it can change who you are. And I didn’t sign up for that. I didn’t sign up to become a content creator. Art was supposed to be a way for me to be in search of, in service to, in community with. It was my ministry. Art was supposed to be my ministry.”

“Stop signs? I don’t care about any of that shit. Don’t have a...

“Stop signs? I don’t care about any of that shit. Don’t have a license. Don’t have a license plate on my bike. I’m an outlaw through and through. I take it very seriously. The way I look at it, there’s a law of government and a law of man. And I follow the law of man. Right and wrong, that’s it. And the government don’t do right. I’m not trying to make myself a martyr. They already won. Darkness won. I’m just taking care of me and my own and doing what I can to keep their claws out of my back. I’ve got a half mile dirt drive that goes way back up in the woods, and that’s not far enough. They tried to pin me with some multimillion-dollar drug ring, and this is what I told them. In the courtroom, while my lawyer is elbowing me in the ribs to shut up. I said: ‘Listen man. You’re fucking with a bunch of hillbillies trying to get high. All we do is fucking work on cars and bikes and snowmobiles and four wheelers and then go riding, and afterward we try to get naked with our old ladies. I’m just giving people that I care about something that they’re going to get elsewhere, that I can get them for a way lesser price and make sure the shit ain’t fucked with. What’s the problem with that?”

“They told me they loved me constantly, chronically, every day....

“They told me they loved me constantly, chronically, every day. They gave me a good home. They cared for me. They did all the basics, and above all that: they worked hard to put me in a great school district. But no matter how much they provide, your parents can’t give a shit for you. I made every bad choice a high schooler could make: tv, video games, pornography. All the stuff that you use to not think about stuff. It’s immediately gratifying, maybe the first 50 or 100 times. But after the 200th time, that stuff becomes who you are. I guess the whole time I was just hoping that someone would come along and tell me exactly what to do with my life, or else it would just come to me. Maybe that happens for some people. But for the other ninety percent of us, we have to make the conscious decision to just go. At first I told my dad I was joining The Marines. He’s an attorney. It certainly wasn’t what he would have chosen for me. But he said: ‘If this is what you want to do, you’re going to visit every branch. You’re going to make an educated decision.’ On the day I signed with the Coast Guard, I remember telling him: ‘I just want to be a good man.’ That’s as far as I’d gotten. That’s the only thing that I knew for sure. I didn’t know where the path was going to lead, but I was just tired of not trying. I figured it was better to just start walking and see what the hell happens. Because I know what happens if I don’t do anything.”

“It’s been a tough morning for me. I used to be a children’s...

“It’s been a tough morning for me. I used to be a children’s librarian. But this morning I had to call publishers and tell them not to send me any more books. I just can’t read them anymore, not like I used to. And that was hard. It felt like I was cutting off a lifeline. It’s disappointing, the sense of not being in control of my own life anymore. Everything depends on my medical schedule, and the chemotherapy, and what my limits are. The doctor has told me to expect a couple more years, but my caretaker says she’s seen a lot of sick people. And she thinks I could be one of the ones who can beat it. For most of my life happiness was automatic. I might have had the only career where you get told ‘I love you’ three or four times a week. Maybe it happens with teachers too, but so many little kids said those words to me over the years. And I miss that. I was damned lucky to have that experience. Happiness isn’t automatic anymore, these days I have to work a little bit more for it. In addition to all the pain and the fear and having to pee all the time, I choose to do a lot of things that will make me aware of the beauty and loveliness of life. It’s not magic. I don’t stop thinking about the scary stuff, I just find moments to push them aside with the ridiculous. There’s so much in life that’s ridiculous. Every Saturday morning I watch Popeye on Turner Classic Movies. It’s so ridiculous. Olive Oil is so obnoxious. And you know, she has all these men after her. It’s just really funny. And Popeye is so full of himself and somehow manages to come out of everything, eat his spinach, and win. Then there’s my laughing yoga classes, which I can’t do in person anymore. But I do them online. There’s this thing we do where people will get in lines of three or four, and we’ll pretend to have a boat race. Everyone rows as hard as they can. Someone chooses a winner, and if you lose you get to create a big scene and make an ass of yourself. It’s ridiculous. And then there’s you. You’re ridiculous. You’re stopping random people, presumably to entertain yourself. You’re sitting in the middle of the street. I mean, think about it. It’s pretty dumb.”

“Picture it, okay? Mardi Gras. New Orleans. Bourbon Street. I’m...

“Picture it, okay? Mardi Gras. New Orleans. Bourbon Street. I’m on college break with my three best childhood friends. Zak is there with his parents. He’s got his mom and dad with him. So it’s two different vibes, but somehow we all end up on the balcony of the same bar. Everyone’s got beads in their hands. We’re all yelling to see boobs. Well, I’m yelling to see boobs. That was just me. But Zak had a perfect mustache. He used to grow it much longer and curl it with wax. And I normally don’t approach people, I’m not that person. But his whole family seemed cute. They didn’t seem like normal New Orleans vacation people. So I was like: ‘Can I take a picture with you?’ Then we ended up adding each other on Snapchat, because that was the thing back then. And we agreed to meet up the next day after his family was done with their gator cruise and I was finished visiting the strip club. That night we walked along the river until the sun came up. I remember doing handstands on the levees. Then at the end we kissed. It was just a kiss because I was leaving early the next morning, and honestly I thought that would be the end of it. I thought for sure I was never going to see this kid again. But we kept talking, and two weeks later I’m taking his virginity in a Las Vegas hotel room. There was something going on with his stomach that day. Right when we finished he went to the bathroom and started throwing up. I called my girlfriend and said: ‘I don’t think he likes me.’ But it’s been love ever since.”

“They’re oblivious right now. They just think they’re at the...

“They’re oblivious right now. They just think they’re at the park. I’m the one who’s got to figure stuff out. I’ve got enough money for us to get home. Then I’ve got to find a way to get something to eat. I’ve got to pay bills. We’re starting to get foreclosure letters in the mail. It’s just impossible to make ends meet right now, unless you’ve got school. I’m educated, but I just don’t have any degrees. I have no way of showing to a job that’s never met me: ‘Hey, I can do this.’ Plus I never know how it’s going to turn out, and that alone scares me. Maybe I’m just a pussy, I don’t know. I’m not proud of the stuff I’m selling. I’ve seen what it’s done to my mom, which is why I don’t use it. I don’t want that for my kids. I don’t want it to fuck up their life like it fucked up my life and my mom’s. That’s how I actually learned about it. Seeing how she’d fight to get that shit, no matter what. I know I could be selling to someone else’s mom. I hear that little voice in my head, like everyone else. But I block that out. I’m on autopilot. Quick exchange: I get my money, I give them their stuff. I block everything else out and I’m only looking at what I need, you feel me? And yeah it sounds evil, or whatever. But I weigh what I need more, and I need stability. I just need money. Money for my kids. Money for me. Money for like, all of us. Money so I don’t have to feel that stress of where am I going to get this next. And it’s the most accessible thing. It’s the easiest thing to get. You know, it’s Fentanyl.”

“The person who hurt us, hurt both of us. But it affected us...

“The person who hurt us, hurt both of us. But it affected us differently. I isolated myself. I started taking drugs when I was twelve, maybe thirteen. But she just moved on with her life. I could never understand: how can she be so happy, while I’m stuck in my head and constantly thinking about it? It was exhausting to me. She was exhausting to me, especially when we were teenagers. I couldn’t stand to be around her because she was so light and positive and funny. Everything was always so cool, and so good. It felt to me that she didn’t want to face it. She just wanted to accept that it happened, and move on. But I couldn’t move on. I didn’t have that choice. I couldn’t just choose to not think about it. I remember the bad things, and how they made me feel. And I never want to feel that way again. I couldn’t just go back out into the world like it never even happened. I know that there are a lot more good people than bad, I do believe that. But there are bad people too. And they can really hurt you deeply if you give them your trust. So I never trusted anyone. Three years ago it reached a point where I felt completely hopeless. It was all so exhausting. I was exhausted. Exhausted from carrying these heavy feelings. Exhausted from making bad decisions. Exhausted from the drugs. It felt like nothing was ever going to change for me. Around that time we went out to dinner with my mother, and we finally had a deep talk about everything. We’d talked about it before, but maybe this time I really meant it. I decided that I have to let it go. I just have to let it go. I still have dark times when I don’t want to study or work. But when I’m in a bad mood, I’ll turn to her. Her happiness doesn’t make me feel worse anymore. It motivates me. It inspires me. Now she’s the person who can most easily put me in a good mood. I let her be a part of my bad days. And because of that, she’s also become a huge part of my good days. Both of us have gotten a lot more mature, and a lot wiser. But it was mainly me, I think. I had to change. If I hadn’t found a way to let go, we’d still be too different to be this close.”