Homeless, Hopeless, and Heavenless in the City of the Angeles

“No medicine cures what happiness cannot.”

― Gabriel García Márquez

My cousin, Byong, remains poor, for he never graduated from high school. Indeed, he gave up on life a long time ago because his mother was a sex worker, he never met his father, and he suffered from poverty. He gave up on his dreams, but he was the most amazing street dancer I ever saw. When you watch Michael Jackson, some of those moves are the moves Byong, invented, because the famous Michael hired LA street dancers to teach him new performance moves. K-pop was invented on the streets of Lost Angels.

One of the street artists/dancers that Michael hired danced on the same streets of Hollywood with my cousin grew up in. Indeed, I predicted Michael would become one of the greatest pop icons of all time. My friends laughed, and later messaged me on facebook and astonishingly admitting that I was right. Therefore, I have vision, for I see the future.

Remembering my youth, I too was a street dancer; however, I spent most of my high school days in the ghetto streets of the barrio of Los Angeles practicing gymnastics, going to the beach, and having a fight club. Fighting was a way of finding peace of mind. I didn’t go to school much. No one could beat me in a fight or a dance challenge. I loved Bruce Lee and went to Chinatown to watch his films. However, my cousin could easily beat me in dance battles. He was that amazing warrior of mindful movements.

Actually, Byong had lived for free in Hawaii, yes free, for his uncle inherited his home from his mom, yet he returned to the city of angels where we both grew up. I too am part Hawaiian, I left too for it is too expensive, but I feel most at home there.

Together, we grew up in Los Angeles. He even went to Hollywood High while I went to Fairfax High. Actually, I visited Los Angeles a few weeks ago. Sadly, he was ashamed to be homeless, so he would not meet me. He has a free phone from the government and uses the Internet on the streets close to stores for free. LA has the perfect climate year round. Not too hot, not too cold, always perfectly cool! You do not need an air conditioner nor a heater.

Now, my heart is bleeding with sadness, for we grew up together. I could have been him. Instead, I learned to cultivate a love of books, ironically, in Spanish, for I love Magical Realism of Latin America. Gabriel García Márquez remains my favorite author.

Both our mothers, sisters to each other, were sex workers on the streets. Our childhood was hell, but we both survived. I am him, and I miss Byong. I am crying now, for he was my hero because no one danced like him, and he never saw himself dance. He doesn’t see what my mind movie remembers of him; instead, he was a miracle, a mystical sufi dance master, twirling, and whirling. He was my master teacher, and my mentor who thought my dancing sucked and told me so, smiling. I love him eternally and unconditionally. I told him I would fly him to my home. No. He is home, so he told me. I understand, for I miss the city of angels. Why did you give up on your dreams? Why my cousin? Why?

Mantra of Love: We Are Each Other

In conclusion, we are the sky, the sun, the Hollywood hills, the rain of love, and the purple reign of the Prince of love.

Liberating Luminous Love

Liberating Luminous Love

Liberating Luminous Love

Thank you!