Category Archives: progress

Save Yourself With Your Passion

dive

So, writing is bringing new hope and adventure my life.  For those of you who don’t know or haven’t been reading my blog (which…who is?  I don’t think I have any hardcore followers)  Anyways, as a recap, I’m currently studying Creative Writing and Literature.

And I love it.   I love making stories.  I love taking the horrible crap of my life and turning it into stories.  I love making people smile.  I love making people laugh.  I love inspiring people.

 I just fucking love it. 

 

And you know what?  I’m 27 now and I keep asking myself, WHY DIDN’T I DO THIS SOONER?  Why am I just now taking control of my life?  Why am I just now starting to feel alive?

The answer is sad, but obvious.  I never thought I was worth it. I have been put down so much in my life, and told that I’ll amount to nothing, that I ended up fucking believed it.   AND YOU KNOW WHATS EVEN WORSE???  It was this weird internalized belief.  Like I didn’t think I was worthless because people told me I was, I just deeply and truly had a sense that I was worthless.   That feeling burrowed deep within me, planting roots in the depths of everything I was (and am).

For those of you who read my last 2 posts about sex addiction, then let me say, I think that internalized feeling of worthlessness is also what led me to using sex as a form of relief.   I didn’t think I was better than a random man off Grindr.  I didn’t; think I was worth anymore that a one night stand, BECAUSE LOOK AT ME?  WHO WOULD WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS? is what I would tell myself.

 

But fuck.  Something deep within me is changing.  Harvard is changing me.   When the editor of the Harvard Review says she likes your style and wants to help you, the stone walls you’ve built up around yourself begin to crumble.  Finally, you have a voice to contradict the people of your past.

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And this blog is what started it all.  I started writing this in 2013 in Melbourne, Australia. I was suffering from panic attacks, anxiety, depression, and agoraphobia.  I needed to write to save myself.  And I still do it to this day.   My passion is giving me reason to live.  And I can’t believe it took me so long to see that this passion is real.  It isn’t my “head in the clouds” or “me not growing up”.  It’s a passion I have and a passion I need.  Writing is part of me, and I love it.

 

So for any of you out there struggling, do you have passions?  And if not, do you have anything you love doing but don’t know if it’s a passion?  Do you have anything you really wanted to do but are too scared to try?   Because I can tell you that working towards something real has helped me a lot.

Having sex constantly didn’t make me happy.

Listening to the world and getting a 9-5 job I hate because, and I quote, “I should just be thankful I’m not homeless” never made me happy.

Hating myself and my life everyday never made me happy.

But working towards a passion did.  

Alright, let’s end this with a good gif?  Cuz who this fuck doesn’t like a good gif right?

vader1

vader

 

Remember:  If Vader can have fun as Disneyland, than it’s never too late for us to change out ways either!

 

~ The Dark Horse

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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My Sexual Assault Story

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Alright, so, this is Mackinac Island.  A small resort island in the Great Lakes.  I’m going to share with everyone a story about what happened to me there.

But first let me say, this isn’t a memory I’ve thought about recently.  I was reading a book yesterday called Suicide Notes.  In the book something happens to the main character that was very similar to something that has happened to me.  He wakes up in the suicide wing of mental ward.  He is there with about 5 other teens who are in extreme mental distress.  One night, the big football jock (who never discloses the reason why he is there) named Renken comes into his room while he’s sleeping and… you know.

After reading that scene, the memory of Mackinac came flooding back into my head.

Here’s what happened:

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Although it seems like a sleepy little resort island, behind the scenes is a whole different story.  When you work on the island you stay up in the middle of the island.  The part where nobody goes.  Most of the hotels put you up in “dorms” which is basically 2 old houses that have been connected together.  I was staying in one of the dorms for the hotel called The Island House during the summer of 2014.

My roommate was this kind of machismo guy who’s dad was in the military.   He didn’t go to college and he smoked and drank and did drugs like a fuckin’ crazy person.   But then again, everyone on Mackinac Island did drugs.  Drugs were everywhere.  For me, someone who doesn’t drink or do drugs, it was a horrible experience already.  The dorms were separated by gender.  There were guy dorms and girl dorms.   So you can image, a building filled with a bunch of guys between 20 and 28 who drank, fucked, and did drugs like crazy…it was kind of like living the worst frat-house nightmare imaginable.

 

So, one night about a month into my stay there, I’m sleeping and suddenly I start having this horrible dream.   In my dream I woke up and saw a shadowy figure standing in the room staring at me.  I remember it was making this weird kind of incoherent noise.  I felt so scared.  I remember in the dream I was saying “No…please go away….go away…please go away…”  and I felt so cold. I just remember this intense feeling of being exposed and cold and scared.

Then, I actually opened my eyes and saw that there was something in my room staring at me.  It was a person. But it was so dark I couldn’t really make out who it was.  I remember having this feeling like my stomach was in knots but at the same time it felt like my stomach was also clumped in my throat.  It was so difficult to process because I was still only half-awake.  I put the covers over me and tried hiding. I was so scared because I didn’t know what was going on, I just knew there was someone in my room.

Suddenly I could hear the sounds of someone climbing up the bunk bed and into my bed.  I was so scared I couldn’t breathe.  Then it laid down next to me.  At this point I kind of woke up a little more and was confused… If someone had come into my room to kill or rob me or something, they wouldn’t just lay down.   I took the blanket off from over my head and looked to see that it was my roommate.

I became a little less stressed knowing that I was safe and that it was just my roommate.  I figured he just got super drunk or high and had no idea where he was and came into my bed by accident.  I started to fall back asleep until suddenly he grabbed my hand and put it on his penis.  At that point I suddenly realized my roommate wasn’t wearing pants and was erect.  I quickly moved my hand away but he grabbed it again and put it back on his penis.     I moved my hand away again, and then he put his hands in my underwear and grabbed my penis.

I said, “What are you doing…dude stop”.   But then he started this weird incoherent low-level mumbling….the same that I heard from the shadowy figure in my dream before I woke up.    Suddenly I was terrified again, knowing that he must have been standing over my bed watching me as he mumbled whatever the fuck he was saying.   That must have been why I was so scared in my dream and why I felt so exposed.  My body must have known that someone was standing and watching me.

He grabbed my head and tried pushing me down to suck his dick.   I pulled away again and said, “Dude stop it, seriously.  what the hell is going on?”.    It was so weird because he kept his eyes closed.  Like he didn’t want to mentally be part of the moment.   Then the mumbling became more audible.  He was calling me “fag” and “slut” and was saying things like “Suck it you fuckin bitch”.

I was pretty much awake at this point, and I was scared.  This guy wasn’t the most stable I had ever met to begin with, plus I didn’t what kind of drugs he was on that night so I had no idea what he would be capable of doing”.  I tried playing stupid and so I did one of those koala cuddles to him, where you put your leg and your arm around the other person.  I tried doing it in an ‘Oh lets cuddle’ type way, but what I was actually doing was trying to hold his arms down so he couldn’t grab me.

He kept pushing my arms off and kept trying to push my head down to his crotch.   When he saw that wasn’t working he grabbed my penis again, and obviously it was limp because…how the fuck am I supposed to be aroused in a moment like that?   Then in his weird mumbling he said, “why aren’t you hard you fuckin fag?”.

I was now pretty pumped up with adrenaline and so I sat up and I said, “You need to get the fuck out of my bed right now”.   He tried grabbing me again but I swatted his hand away.  Then, silently, he got up and left the room.  I could hear that he walked into the bathroom which was the door next to ours and I heard him get in the shower.  I locked the bedroom door and tried to get back to sleep.

 

The next day when I saw him I asked what had happened last night.  He of course was like, “What do you mean?”   So I told him that I was talking about him coming into my bed.  Then he responded with something like, “Oh man I was so drunk I probably had no idea which bed was mine..”  Which you know what, I wouldn’t have cared if that was the case.  Had he been drunk and passed out in my bed I wouldn’t have cared.  But that wasn’t all that happened…

So then I said…”dude, you didn’t pass out in my bed…did you not realize that you didn’t wake up in our room this morning?”   And he was like… “Oh ya I crashed in my friends room”.    kept pushing him.  I said, “Do you know why you had to do that?”  And he was like… “No man, why?”  So I straight up told him.  I told him that he came into my bed and tried making me suck his dick.   To which he responded with, “Oh dude, I was so high I probably thought I was crawling in a girl’s bed or something….”

….SERIOUSLY?   

So then I mentioned that that doesn’t make any sense considering that he he grabbed my dick, which isn’t something you would normally do to a girl…

Then he got all quiet and was like… “well that wasn’t me man, must have been someone else…”

 

I knew it was him.  I wasn’t the drunk and high one in that bed.  I clearly remember who was in that bed with me and I remember what he did.

We never really spoke after that.  However, 2 days later he switched rooms.  Then he told all the guys in the dorm that the reason he left our room was because I was a fag and would stare at him when he was naked.

Furthermore, anytime I would pass him in the building or on the lawn he would always call me a fag as I walked by.  He of course was always sitting with about 5 other guys at all times so it wasn’t exactly like I could have fought him or anything.

 

People would say things to me like, “Oh man I don’t know what you did to him but he’s always talking about how he wants to beat you up” and “You really shouldn’t have come on to him….it’s kind of your fault”.

 

But you know what people, I’m gay and from Ohio.  Sadly, I know how the world treats gay people.  From experience I know that adding flame to the fire is the worst thing you can do.  Going around and telling everyone what really happened was only going to make him even more mad.  And a closeted drug addict son of a military father is not the kind of guy you want to question the sexuality of.   That would just be me asking to get beat to death one night.

 

So I justified it to myself.  I told myself this is just how the world treats me.  Nobody ever cared about me before, so why would they now?  I remember thinking that, after all, he was the hottest guy who has ever wanted to have sex with me…so maybe I should have been grateful?   I just did what I had to do to make it through the rest of that summer.

 

But now, after reading that book all these years later I’m fucking pissed.   Present-day me would have beat the shit out of him.  Present-day me would have raised the kind of hell most people could only imagine the devil himself could conjure.

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT I HAD TO HAVE THAT HAPPEN

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT I HAD TO LISTEN TO HIM CALL ME A FAG AS HE TRIED TO FORCE ME TO SUCK HIS DICK

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT I HAD TO HEAR HIM CALL ME A FAG EVERYDAY AFTER THAT

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT HE COULD TELL EVERYONE A FAKE STORY BECAUSE HE KNEW THEY WOULD BELIEVE HIM OVER ME

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT I HAD TO LIVE BEING AFRAID OF GETTING BEAT UP THE REST OF THE SUMMER

THE BOTTOM LINE IS THAT IT WASN’T FAIR.  IT WASN’T RIGHT, AND IT ISN’T JUSTIFIABLE

I called the sexual assault hotline and spoke to a consoler on the phone last night.  I told her the story and asked if I had a right to be mad.  I was wondering if I was being a drama queen, or if I was correct in my new recognition of this event.  I told her that when I think of rape I think of some girl who gets jumped in the woods and is gang-banged or something….but this event also felt like it was so wrong.   She told me over the phone that I had every right to be angry.  She said this was a violation and that I wasn’t being a drama queen.

It felt good.  It felt really really good actually.  After having everyone tell me it was my fault the entire summer.  After having myself believe that it wasn’t a big deal and that it’s just something you have to go through as a gay person… it just felt amazing for someone to actually sit there and say, NO.  BE MAD.  You’re allowed to be mad.   There was such relief and such power in it.

So to anyone out there who has had something bad happen to them, BE MAD.  YOU ARE ALLOWED.  I don’t care if it was sexual assault, physical violence, emotional abuse, or anything else.  If someone has treated you like you’re sub-human, you can be mad.  It is your right to be mad.

And if anyone is dealing with a similar issue, please call a sexual assault hotline and just talk about it.  The woman who spoke to me was insanely nice.  They don’t judge or get mad at you.  You are free to talk about anything you want.

And furthermore if anyone is hurting for any reason remember that there are crisis lines all across the world.

Below is a link to all the crisis lines across the globe ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS talk about it with people.  It helps so much:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines

 

I sincerely thank you for reading this post,

~ The Dark Horse

… sorry it wasn’t proofread well

INFJ Struggles With The Modern World

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So, I was doing some INFJ reading today and I came across a site that talked about how INFJ’s will struggle with the modern workplace.  The quote that really got me was:

“INFJ women and men don’t perform well in modern corporate settings. They are sensitive and often altruistic. Such attributes don’t get rewarded in the rat race.”

And then it went on to give a list of some careers that INFJ’s would hate.  Some of them were things like:

1. Marketing
2. Sales
3. Advertising

And this makes sense.  These kinds of careers are all about helping large companies convince the masses that they need the products the large companies are selling.  You’re literally helping large companies fuck over the world.  And as INFJ’s, with our natural altruism, this is literally our hell.

 

Furthermore, the modern workplace just isn’t right for INFJ’s in general.  The ideals of getting promoted because you simply want more money, or “playing politics” to get ahead,  and just the drama of office culture in general.   We INFJ’s literally couldn’t give less of a fuck about getting ahead at the office.   

 

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As INFJ’s, we seek purpose and meaning, and our goal in life is to change the world for the better.  This also makes office life very hard because the trend in business is to give people repetitive tasks with the sole purpose of helping to increase profits for the company…  INFJ people out there, I can literally hear you sighing with dread right now.  And trust me, I’m right there with you.  This is our hell.  jobs that mean nothing.

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Most INFJ’s crave creativity and meaning.  They say some good job choices for INFJ’s are:

Actor

Visual Artist

Writer

Musician

Teacher

Philosopher

Non-Profit Work

Psychologist / psychiatrist 

Designer

Advocate Work 

 

You can see a common trend in all of these:  They allow the INFJ to be their own person.  Most of these jobs involve a good dose of creativity, whether it be artistic creativity, or the kind of creativity that allows psychologists to embrace the new challenges and demands that each new patient has.

They also don’t require the INFJ to work in some office setting under the watchful eye of their boss, and that boss’ boss’s and so on.  It allows the INFJ to retain a good level of independence.

 

And most importantly people, remember:  INFJ’s are vulnerable to things like burnout, depression, and anxiety when they don’t live the lives they want to.   So, unfortunately we were not gifted with being able to live an easy life.  Our choices are to fight our way through and change the world, or to slowly rot and die in misery.

Look, I know that isn’t the happiest news…but sadly it’s the truth.  And always remember;

“For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know”

 

~ Fight on people!

The Dark Horse

 

America, It’s Time To Leave Kathy Griffin Alone

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Dear America,

You have bought right into the relentless, manipulative, and hateful zeitgeist of present-day America.  And I’m sorry to tell all of you, but it pisses me the fuck off that you’re that stupid.

 

So what is this image that has shocked, horrified, and nauseated America?  It’s been called vile, disgusting, and many say it has apparently “crossed the line”.    So here it is:

kat1

Yes people, that’s right.  A cheap Halloween mask and corn syrup.  This is apparently what has horrified all of you?

 

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

 

Are you people 10 years old?   If these kinds of cheap theatrics terrify you then how do you sit through any PG-13 movie these days without hopping on twitter to talk about how realistic and vile it was?

Now I know what you’re all saying: some kind of “blah blah blah but it’s about our President…” or “It was a call to assassinate Trump” or whatever cheap excuse you people have.

But we all know that isn’t true.  You saw that it was trending in the media to bash Kathy Griffin, so you all did it so your feed could trend too.   Donald Trump is the one always bitching about a “witch hunt” and congrats America, he started one and you all bought into it.  You focused your hatred of the world into one woman for no reason other than some mild form of mass hysteria.

And where is everyone now?  Hmmmm?  All you people who were so concerned that this image was a call to violence…suddenly, now that Kathy Griffin has held a press conference stating that she is getting detailed, in-depth death threats…  Suddenly Twitter has gone silent.  It seems America doesn’t seem so outraged by violence 3 days later.

And furthermore America, 2 main point here:

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First.  Art is art.  Free speech is free speech.  And artists are artists.   What this was by Trump wasn’t a sudden ideological stance on violence and gore.  He was pissed that it was an image of him.  And then a message was sent to the world through him and conservative media:  Don’t fuck with Trump or we will tear you to shreds

And somehow the liberal media jumped on the bandwagon as well.  CNN, Anderson Cooper, Huffington Post, New York Post, Chelsea Clinton.  Everyone seemingly JUST HAD TO MAKE THEIR VOICE HEARD that they condoned violence…and they all used Kathy Griffin as the punching bag to convey this message, which obviously only made the Trump team oh-too-happy.

Silencing people who make offensive art against our current administration will not make this country better or more peaceful.  What it will do however, is spread a message not dissent against the way things are.   We are teaching people to be silent and not stand up against an administration that NEEDS TO BE STOOD UP TO.

 

Secondly, let’s talk about Trump and conservatives.

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Does anyone remember when a black church in the south was set on fire and the words “VOTE TRUMP” was spray painted on it?   Were all of you just at work that day? Were you all too busy to tweet up a storm about that?  I mean if were going to talk about a vile and disgusting act…

 

Or how about the 2 FUCKING MURDERS THAT HAPPENED IN PORTLAND LAST WEEK?

Kathy Griffin was a more worthy target to bash?  Are you people insane?

kat6.jpg

 

 

Or how about the hate crime where a man ran his truck over someone and killed him because of his race?  This news story went largely under the radar because it happened so soon after the Portland murders

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/crime/young-father-killed-truck-driver-hate-crime-article-1.3206515

 

Or how about the stabbing in Maryland that happened recently?

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The white man on the right, who belonged to a white supremacist group on facebook somehow believes he was superior to the man on the left because of his race.   WHERE WERE YOU TWITTER TROLLS THEN?

 

Point is, the Kathy Griffin scandal blew up because conservatives are crazy and are DESPERATE to believe that they are oppressed by liberals.  They are angry and uneducated and suffer from a severe case of cognitive dissonance.  If Trump and Fox News says there is literally anything to be outraged about, conservatives will devote their time to being outraged to it.  They are the most desperate of sheep.

 

And on that note… are any of you paying attention to the Trump administration?  Are you watching as they are removing funding for the sciences, national parks, healthcare, education, women’s rights…well civil rights off all kinds, and the insane level of hate he inspires in our country?    If you all want to take a moral high ground and be raging about something realize where the anger should go…

 

Get your head in the game people,

~ The Dark Horse

…and no, this wasn’t proofread.  This was written out of a mix of passion and anger.

The Innocence Of Anxiety

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So, I was thinking the other day about the last few years.  About how I had been depressed for so much of my life, and then suddenly; anxiety, panic attacks, and agoraphobia were thrown on top of it.    Sometimes I look back and I get tears in my eyes.  I think of how scared I was back in Melbourne.    Australians are great people if you’re looking for a party…but they’re not the kinds of people who are there for you in times of need (They don’t really comprehend the idea of “times of need” actually).    So there I was, alone.  Dealing with crippling anxiety. And when I say crippling, I mean crippling.   I was literally collapsing and felt like I was dying.

 

But the other day I also got a little smile on my face.  It was odd, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was a child again.   I mean when you really think about it, when you start dealing with mental illness it’s almost like starting a whole new life.   Your entire world has changed.  You have to learn how to overcome obstacles.  You have to ask people for help.  Easy things becomes monumental successes.

 

Like I remember back when the panic attacks were happening a lot, even going to the grocery store was hard.  Just going around the block could bring about a massive panic attack.  I remember at one point I finally had had enough and so I called Lifeline and was like, “The grocery store is about 7 blocks away…I’m worried I’m going to pass out on the way there…can you help me?”

I got to the grocery store and was like I DID IT!!!!!    And the lady at Lifelife was like, Congrats!   This is such a big moment for you!   ….Yeah people, have you ever felt so proud of just making it the grocery store without dying?

 

 

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I think it’s interesting though.  This new idea I have.  Looking at the last four years of life as potentially a “rebirth” in a way.  And who doesn’t make mistakes as children?  We all do right?  How many of us would be alive right now if it wasn’t for our parents taking care of use when we were four years old?     So maybe I need to stop being so hard on myself for these last four years.  What happened in 2013 and 2014 was me trying to learn and figure out what the hell was going on without any help from anyone else.   Mistakes were bound to happen.

Mistakes are the only way we learn even when we have people teaching us, so when it comes to mental illness when so much of it has to be us hiding it, and pretending were fine… where society doesn’t want to help us…when were in it all on our own…

WE SHOULD BE FUCKING PROUD OF OURSELVES THAT WE ARE STILL ON THIS DAMN EARTH! 

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Look at that little girl?   Falling down on your face is normal when you’re a child people, ok?  Don’t let it get you down! 

 

 

 

 

 

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Also, falling on your side is completely acceptable when you’re trying to learn to navigate a new obstacle!  

 

 

 

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And sometimes you just fall on your face again… thats just life.  

 

 

Point is, I think were all doing a great job.  We are trying and dammit that means something, and fuck anyone who says differently.

Keep trying.

Keep working.

And keep falling! 

 

~ The Dark Horse

(No, of course this wasn’t proofread, why would you ask such a silly question?)

 

 

 

Life Really Can Get Better. You Just Need To Try (God, It Sounds Cliche, But It Works)

dave

 

So, this is super annoying, but my life is quickly getting better.  Like, so quickly it’s actually making me mad.  I’m mad that I sat in a shell for so long.  That I feared life.  That I doubted myself.  That I didn’t take risks and go out a limb simply because I believed others when they said I was worth nothing.

 

So for anyone who is reading this blog for the first time, I just started taking classes at Harvard last month.  Im brand new to Boston.  And yet in this one month I have started classes, Ive started writing a novel, and I just got offered a job to write the social media for a company here…. WHAT THE FUCK PEOPLE?  

WHAT

THE 

FUCK?

 

Why Didn’t I decide to start writing a novel sooner?  Ive been blogging for like 3 years.  It isn’t like I haven’t had the desire to write.   In fact I’ve had story ideas just sitting in my mind for years.  What have I been doing?

 

Is it possible that things can go well?  That maybe the world is colorful? 

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That maybe the bad guys don’t win at the end?  

I’m still just so fucking annoyed that I sat and believed for so long that nothing good could ever happen to me.  I believed with ALL OF MY HEART that I wasn’t worth anything.  That I failed because I deserved to fail.   That I was just better off dead.   That was the only reason I could think of as to why people kept telling me I was worth nothing.

But you know what, maybe there are other reasons?

~ Maybe because I decided to be myself and not follow the norm, the road wasn’t paved with signs telling me where to go… well the road wasn’t even paved.   Thats just part of being different.

~ Maybe people felt jealous or threatened that I wanted more for my life than a boring 9-5 where I had to drink my weekends away just to cope.

~ Maybe all those failures kept showing me what paths not to go down.  Maybe they were learning experiences?  Maybe thats just life process of anyone who follows the beat of their own drum?

So what can I say to you people who are reading this? 

Well for starters. Don’t give up.  NEVER EVER GIVE UP.

Don’t listen to the people who put you down.  This world is full of hateful people.  They have their issues and reasons as to why they’re such assholes, and none of them should matter to you.  let them go rot in their own filth.  Don’t become one of them.

Remember that you’re talented and smart and can do anything.  Any of us who go trough the day with depression, anxiety, or any other mental problems are so strong.   We have to deal with the shit the common man can’t even comprehend. So remember, if you have the strength to get out of bed, you have the strength to change the world.

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This world can be bright and colorful.  Just like the picture above.  We just need to remember to rock shit out, and never take no for an answer.

dave4

 

 

Life is short, don’t waste anymore of it.

~ The Dark Horse