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…
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 But I knew not to confine how I defined art to those outdated and limited boundaries.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…
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…
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…
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…
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…
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…
The first 2Pac song I recall hearing was his rage-fueled, infamous diss track “Hit Em’ Up”, when I was roughly eight years old — and from the very first listen my mind was fucking blown. He had made a fan for life, in less than ten words.
“That’s Why I Fucked Your Bitch, You Fat Motherfucker”.
I mean, seriously imagine being eight years old in 1995 and hearing that song, with that intro, unedited and unsupervised. It changed me internally — and eternally. …
Last week, my best friend in the entire world lost his life to drugs at the age of only 35. He left behind a 17-year-old daughter, who lost her mother to a tragic car accident when she was just a baby, as well as a 7-month-old baby boy and girlfriend who is now a single mother. So his death is a loss that has understandably more or less consumed his circle of close friends, family, and loved ones this week — myself included.
I’ve lost a lot of people close to me at early ages but this one cuts deep…
Imagine a politically correct Archie Bunker, who got along swimmingly with his Son-In-Law and never made an off-color joke. You’d have no show.
In turn, you’d have no George Jefferson or Weezy.
No George Jefferson, who regularly used the word honky — a phrase I don’t believe has ever truly offended anyone in their right mind, ever — and like Archie, spewed lewd remarks about one group or another in almost every episode of the hit sitcom he starred in.
No George Jefferson, no Archie Bunker, and nothing of much value either.
We’re left with bland art and reruns of…
Writing About the Human Condition, via My Thoughts, Observations, Experiences, and Opinions — Founder of Journal of Journeys and BRB INC ©