Why the media, cultural commentators, talk show hosts, BLOGGERS, and the general public relentlessly overanalyze and unfairly pick apart every move certain celebrities and entertainers make.
We live in the rust-rotted age of cancel culture. One where you’re supposed to be overly cautious about what you say and do in public.
Or even in private, if it’s within potential earshot or camera click of TMZ, or any similar gang of bottom-feeding vultures who call themselves reporters — if you’re famous and they care, anyway.
Too often, we as a society dehumanize celebrities as a whole for our own personal purposes and/or potential notoriety.
The ironic and hypocritical part about it is, we only do this when we’re not busy idolizing them almost to the point of…
Just because stories about how much money you made here last month get views, doesn’t make them any more interesting.
If you’re writing to tell us about how much cash the Paid Partner Program made you last month and have the nerve to end the post with a banner asking me to buy you a cup of coffee — please understand you are the kind of writer who makes me want to get out of the business, so I’m not associated with you by trade.
Yes, this may come off as harsh as the eighty-cent cup of burnt-ass coffee from 7–11 I paid for in dimes because, for some reason that feels very discriminatory, I can use my EBT card…
I’m not saying it shouldn’t exist, only that it isn’t as prevalent or as common as the powers that be would have us believe.
When you think about America — better yet, the entire world and life as a whole, both yours and mine and his and hers — is equality the first word that comes to mind? Probably not.
Is it even in the top ten though? Again, probably not — not if you’ve been paying anything even remotely resembling attention for the last three hundred years or eternity or so, anyway.
People who view themselves as better than the rest of us want us to believe they believe we’re equals. …
Not writing or life advice, just my take on and experience writing in this time of technology and social media, as industries rapidly evolve or die a slow death.
If my Mother, the potential employer I might one day again depend upon for food if this shit doesn’t work out for me, or otherwise could be love interest wanted to, they could find out a lot of the worst things about me, fairly quickly — provided they had an internet connection and can read.
which of those I named, I can only verify for sure my mother does and can.
But if you’re only chance of someone not finding the worst things about you out depends on them not being able to read or having an internet connection, I’d…
The best education is informal and experience-based.
There is a variety of things society subconsciously tries to convince us of when we’re young and should they succeed, changing our minds about them later in life can prove difficult.
One of them I thankfully never bought into was the old myth about artists not being able to make money until after they’re dead. Even as a child, I called BS.
Yeah okay, for the likes of Van Gogh and Monet’ maybe. But I knew not to confine how I defined art to those outdated and limited boundaries.
The walls of my bedroom were filled with posters of artists…
A peace offering of sorts from a tired writer trying his best
I have spent the last year and a half almost to the day, trying to find something that even remotely resembles relief from what I can only describe as a dark, heavy, life-crippling depression.
The only benefit to it is it makes me forget all about the generalized anxiety that has plagued me most of my life and made basic daily functions ridiculously difficult, for as long as I can remember.
Notice I said relief and not a cure or a solution to it — because at this point that feels so far out of the realm of what’s realistically…
Romance isn’t dead but chivalry killed itself
The truth is, I felt dead when you said it was over. Yet I acted more concerned with buying new clothes instead of finding closure. Went from drunk in love together, to spending the next 7 years with my lonesome, never sober.
I passed our old apartment the other day. But then I thought if it caught my eye from a certain distance, it might hurt my vision, and quickly looked away.
Funny how nowadays it's your laugh that haunts me, but in the past, it was when you’d get angry and hang up on me that had me haggling…
We’re all guilty of it on occasion but I’ll explain why I do my best to not worry about the narratives others create about me
One of our existential flaws as human beings is our damning internal desire for others to like us and accept us — despite how imperfect we know even the most put-together person walking earth’s surface is.
Why is it so important to us, for people we know to be of — at best — questionable judgment and far from perfect in the character assessment department — to judge our character favorably?
“We buy shit we don’t need, to impress people we don’t even f*cking know or like, how insane is that? “- Gary Vaynerchuk
Even if it’s silently and to…
You wanted ignorance, you got it.
I was playing in the beginning, but the mood all changed-Eminem
Honestly, I’m not really into clickbait titles, so my genuine aim is to actually offend, trigger, outrage, mortify — and with any luck, convince a good portion of you reading this to never read anything I ever write again.
Which, given Medium’s audience — especially lately — this shouldn’t be difficult considering how many people were bothered by this harmless piece I wrote a few months back.
Now while I shouldn’t have to and normally wouldn’t — I’ll explain what I consider that piece — a silly list of…
Reflecting on why I write and the primary purpose of my work
When I was roughly sixteen, My English teacher Mr. W asked me to stay behind after class — I wasn’t surprised. This was the second year in a row I had him and put simply, we didn’t like each other much.
Yet somehow, there was still this weird mutual unspoken respect and understanding between us.
He asked why I never turned in rough drafts of essays and if I was aware I was costing myself points every time I did so. I informed him I was aware, didn’t care, and didn’t turn in rough drafts of essays — because I…
