I’m cheesing super hard right now, I don’t care who sees. Not only because I just bought a bunch of shit for my new baller-ass apartment, nah. Well that’s partially it, I’ll concede that. Realizing how blessed and fortunate I am to have a support system that’s external to my family? That’s partially it too. But the real reason I’m flashing my grill in secret is because somebody has taken it upon themselves to try extrapolate a seedy situation from these very words you see before you. It’s not the first and certainly not the last time that an unscrupulous third party, who isn’t even privy to the whole situation, will try to stir the pot as a “concerned friend.”
And the best part is that, after further civil discussion with my informant and the target of this drama in question, it’s a non-issue. Again, this is the territory of art and expression. There’s always going to be somebody or some group that wants to read into some juicy upheaval that doesn’t exist. These same people are the ones that go around reciting troll posts or fake news off Facebook as veritable kosher journalism. The same people that like to lurk around looking for invisible chinks in the armor of prose that has a lot of embellishments in it. Allow me to paint the scenario:
How dare they express themselves and speak negatively about X Y Z, that’s my <insert nature of relationship> and nobody talks about them that way if I have anything to say about it! I will blow this case wide open! They’re only saying these things to make themselves feel better. Nevermind the balanced view and paragraphs admitting accountability! What a heel! But I can’t let them know I’ve done such a thing, let me enact the values of a snake and snitch. Ah yes, I’m covered now.
I mean this irrefutable logic here. Why am I even bothering with this post? Clearly I’m in the wrong. They have all the evidence and both viewpoints, there’s no real recourse for a defense here, obviously. Yeah, my contact was not thrilled about my characterization of the target and requested that I tone it down, but they also respected my right to exercise my right to freedom of speech. To which I explained that it’s a dialogue with my subconscious and wasn’t wholly representative of how I really feel. Which is true. I love my homeboy’s gf and when he’s not around I treat her as my own. She’s a beautiful human being through and through; and for her to still be with him to this day makes her legit af. But there are aspects I don’t vibe with, big surprise. That’s life. Make no mistake, I will always respect her place in my life and his. We just had to have a meeting of the hearts. Simple as that. That’s the other side of this satirical coin that this cowardly snitch neglected to consider. And a prime example of what happens when you take art 100% at face value. You look stupid.
While freedom of speech only legally applies in regards to federal and government censorship, libel is a very real thing. But with libel that requires revealing identifying information, pooping on the person’s character, and having that affect their livelihood in a public sphere or financially. I did neglect to mention that I’m rivaling Huff Post so maybe I should tone it down…right. See the thing about having real friends is that you know they’re legit even when there’s a serious disagreement or situation that causes friction. So I’m not worried about anything nor will I apologize for how I felt during that creative process. They know and I know where we stand, so I always find it amusing when somebody external thinks they know better. But they must not know much because they’re hiding behind a veil of anonymity that they better count their blessings about. They are very, very, very lucky my contact has the most integrity that can be mustered within a human being because I cannot get anything out of them. But I have my hunches on who the shit-disturber might be.
Back to freedom of speech though, as I mentioned previously with the great Bae Incident of 2017, this is my domain. I’m not here to play favorites or appease anyone. I’m not getting paid for this; hell, I don’t even use common categorical tags so people can find my shit. So if you’re offended, good. That means whatever preconceived notion you had about my opinion of you is not accurate. But I’m not unfair; I’m not simply being mean spirited 100% of the time. I keep it real and honest. Despite that, I don’t tell the full story on here most of the time. Only the parts that are entertaining…which is indicative of a certain vocabulary word. Say it with me now embellishment. Let’s spell it out for our slow yet petty-ass clown: e m b e l l i s h m e n t. Look at any piece of art…any piece and tell me how 1:1 it is to the source.
I’m starting to really see why some people are afraid of blogging or putting their thoughts out there. The fear of judgment and retaliation is a large deterrent for weak-willed individuals or even people that care a lot about what irrelevant audiences think of them. I am neither of these people. I know there’s an opportunity cost for reporting my life in this way. I plan on writing a memoir of my family. I know some people gonna feel some type of way. This I’m already resolved to, but my craft is more important than their egos. If I truly, truly have beef or need to address something, the person’s face is the first place I start. Some people have this crazy notion that everyone needs to like them or that they need to front for the sake of appearances. I’m not sure what this white knight has to gain from lurking my space, but go head. I mean at least comment right? Make that fake account and entertain me with your faux outrage. Let me see those poorly constructed arguments.
I suppose this is a good time to reflect on what I’ve been doing here since December. Truth be told, not much besides cataloging my life and really letting my subconscious do the talking. I don’t re-read my posts outside of proofreading for typos. They are moments in time and I like to keep them that way until I go back to follow that white rabbit. I’m an “asshole” and I embrace that fact wholly. I surround myself with wholesome “assholes” such as myself because they get it. To quote my friend:
“I don’t have time for the weak chin mother fuckers; I’m about growth and launching off into the stratosphere. Let em cry, whine, and moan while we’re rolling in our Ferraris.”
And he’s right. If I spend time worrying about what other people are doing or what other people think of me, I’m not gonna get to that point in my where I wake up and I have no real complaints outside of the fact that I gotta get more milk for my granola or something. If it doesn’t concern me, it’s not even in my periphery. I’m in the shit and hanging out in the struggle because like coal, all this pressure is gonna spit out a diamond (me). So I’m ready, more ready than I’ve ever been for anything honestly. My livelihood is on the line and frankly, I’m holding my destiny in my hands. What I do from this point forward is gonna shape a trajectory that will send some ripples cascading out there in the ether. Per usual, I’ll just ride the wave and try my best not to fall. But if I do, all it takes is a paddle and some lifesavers courtesy of my homies (and family) in this crazy state.
And to the mystery snitch-hater-nosy-shitstarter-scumbag-nolifer, if you’re reading this, read these Nikes.