Oh, if only I had the audacity to turn on everything I have ever worked for, say “Fuck it,” and become a writer living in seclusion.
i am genuinely paranoid that everyone secretly hates me and thinks i am really annoying and ugly and is pretending to be my friend and it’s all part of some big joke
There are always triggers. Some, we know what they are, so we avoid them. But some, we can’t get away from because we don’t know or expect such things to teleport us back. Back… back… and some things we don’t want to think back upon. Move on - easier said than done. Move on - how can your past not matter yet shape you into the person you are? Move on. It baffles me how invulnerable we pretend to be. Smiling over skeletons and scars, crying in the dark. But I guess that’s the only way to get from point A to point B without raising any red flags.
Let us be vividly clear about this.
What the New York Times did to Michael Brown today was not merely slander. It wasn’t a case of a lack of journalistic integrity.
Highlighting that a black teenager was “no angel” on the day he is being laid to rest after being hunted and…