I’ve voted in 3 states so far. Philadelphia and Memphis have similar systems with early voting options and polling on election day itself. In my lifetime, the only information I was given about candidates or policies came from yard signs and partisan TV commercials. The onus is on the voter to educate themselves for the most part. The first time I voted I was amazed to find out how much shit is on the ballot no one even mentions. Amendments, propositions, initiatives, advisories and so many judges. Studying for the SATs is easier. Continue reading I Fucking Voted
Category Archives: Art
My Kind of Crazy
Most people don’t know. Why should they? I don’t know if someone has lupus or diabetes. They are going about their day with the same struggles I endure, just in their own timeline. I don’t know what their pain looks like and I do my best not to judge their reaction to it. It’s the Golden Rule – treat other peoples’ realities with the same respect you want them to show yours. We are all the same.
In my world there is a strict bullshit threshold. I can only take so much from one person before I have to Be Nice or Leave. Self-awareness comes with the risk of being called out. We are all flawed and eventually it gets us in trouble. I embraced my shadow self and found more substance there than my parents ever cultivated. I have learned that being myself is harder than pleasing other people. So far, the benefits vastly outweigh the struggle.
It gets easier. Telling the truth is a tough habit to break once you get rolling. Freeing up all that space in your head that used to care what people think leads to extensive personal growth. Inherently painful, I decided to lean into it. If it’s going to hurt might as well get the most I can out of the pain. Holding the reigns of my fate for the first time, I plunged straight to the heart of my troubles. I asked for help from a therapist. I started taking medication.
Chapter 1
You can’t tell me apart from the degenerates now. Sunken eyes, persistent cough, ratty clothes. I knew this was one of the side effects. When I woke up and discovered the cage of fear surrounding me I didn’t recognize my life. All of my values were designed to keep me pure and untainted. Staying pure has no end game. Took me too long to understand that. The company I keep reflects my worldview. I’d rather be broke and honest than rich and still living a lie. Continue reading Chapter 1
The Secret Cultural Disparity in America
I’m less of an asshole when I’m stoned. If we are going to start segregating society into different slashtroverts with various social impairments can we at least agree not all the substances out there have consistent effects? I know when you get stoned it means you are stupid and silly. Being “stoned” has classic connotations that vary depending on your generation and cultural identity. I personally feel way more stoned on an opiate than cannabis. Some people take adderall to feel normal. Others take it because it’s an amphetamine. Vices exist in every corner of our psyche but are differently governed depending on your flavor of upbringing. Continue reading The Secret Cultural Disparity in America
Rule #4
Rule number one is Never Go Back and usually the easiest to follow. A rift in any relationship puts a wake between two people. Left to our own devices each party floats away in their own direction. Well, that would be the natural course of things if human egos and emotional dysfunction didn’t get in the way. We desperately paddle against the tides in an effort to control fate. Strong feelings are even harder to ignore when they are irrational. Not pursuing feelings so tangible I can taste them feels too much like doing nothing. In order to follow Rule #1, I have to stay looking forward even when I rather lose myself in someone’s eyes. Continue reading Rule #4
Good Neighbors
I knock so gently there’s barely a noise. I fiddle with the belt on my long jacket, a bulging knot of thread where seams meet is starting to fray. I notice things like that when I’m nervous. I kinda wish I’d taken a pain pill earlier. I’d be more relaxed but it’s been over 6 days since my last one. The longest I’ve gone this year is 14 days. That was back when I had a job and steady income. The pain started to seem worth it for once. I slept more, drank less. Felt like I finally had wind beneath my wings. I wasn’t prepared for my first summer job in a port city. Continue reading Good Neighbors
Please Say It’s Over
I experienced 3 moments of pure pleasure on Tuesday afternoon. None of them took more than 20 minutes each. For nearly 2 weeks I’ve been frustrated and sick at my stomach with stress. Sinking into a morass of depression there are times I literally panicked, taking xanex for the first time in months. I kept getting one-two punches of disappointment and could feel myself spiraling away from solid ground. Repeating, “This too shall pass,” I focused on baby steps to keep moving forward. Tuesday night felt like coming up for air thanks to this particular trine of gratification hitting me like a perfect storm. In this order – I ate tacos, had sex, and took a crap. Continue reading Please Say It’s Over
Appearances
I don’t know what I look like most of the time. For the longest time, number charts and simple ratios had me convinced I’m obese. The fancy word for it is body dysmorphia but I avoid using medical terms whenever I can. A diagnosis for thought patterns is only necessary if the problem makes you see a doctor about it. Even though I’ve been depressed my entire life I didn’t call it depression until after treatment. Sort of like how you’re not an alcoholic until you decide it’s true. Just like how you can’t help someone until they want help. Continue reading Appearances
Diamond Commercial
[Dark stage, single spotlight, that song I like by Vivaldi playing softly] Continue reading Diamond Commercial