The mind unleashed.

Life Needs to be Messy in Order to Work Out Beautifully

Life can’t be pretty if you want to gorgeously assume the role of survivor. Life will not allow you to polish it clean when the residue from what you ran from sifts through in the early morning hours — when you realize that your bank account is considerably low and you have no idea how to change that in a timely fashion.

I was told by someone close to me — that my life needed to improve quickly — so that those looking in from a distance could adjust that narrative accordingly.

I wanted to curse out loud but had to restrain myself out of respect and the need to maintain my ability to resemble senses— even in the heat of the moment.

Yes, my life has been a mystery to many. And, I almost hope they can access these words and comprehend how much I don’t give a fuck about what they think about the choices I’ve made.

Clicks, likes, and postings with imaginative captions, paired with simulated images are the ways you communicate these days — and my silence no longer stuns because the numbers are reassuring and prove that you don’t need to know me.


But, here’s the thing, unless you are paying my bills, you absolutely don’t have the right to evaluate how well or badly I am thriving — based on your public code of conduct.

By the way, I am doing great!

I quit Facebook, which was the best decision I ever made. I also quit the life of robotic participation three years ago. I was determined to be a writer. I was hungry to unleash my talent to an audience and revel in the joy of knowing that regardless of what they think — spending the time to read my work shifted the dialogue beyond the lines of where it was situated.

I made it!

Yes, I made it. It doesn’t seem like it because, I barely have a job, I don’t have that many followers, my name is not encrypted in the listicles that house the ones who don’t need to be named — because their images evoke immediate worship.

Okay, I did spend sometime stuffed in an Airbnb that was roach-infested, with rooms that sported the latest models of bunk beds. I felt embarrassed for a second, and even lay awake at night, wondering how in the fuck someone like me ends up in a place that I would have never conceived — even on my worst day.

But, then I met amazing people in that place. We bonded. We laughed, cried, ran into the waves at a beach in Malibu and traded stories that helped inspire and grip us into the reality that was honestly not as bad as I captioned it.

Those people are now a memory — a good, sweet, intoxicating remembrance of why life forces you to be better than yourself.

I never give up.

I always believe that life can’t let me down — even when the bathroom door opens while I am peeing in the dark because a housemate can’t hold it any longer. I never give up even when the hopes of being able to support myself so I can support others seems so far-fetched — despite my talent and the beauty that matches every non-click emotion that I emote.

My experiences and hardships embarrass some and they beg for reprieve but I love the shitty shit when it suffocates. It means that when I come up for air — the space will be fresher and even more tapered to my liking.

Life needs to be messy in order to work out beautifully.

That sounds like a Hallmark card I would buy for you but, for me it’s something that I own with mellowed gusto.

I don’t need to feel accepted or liked. I don’t need the numbers that add up to my worthiness as they increase. And when they decrease — I don’t freak out. I don’t want you to discuss my plight with measured adherence to my victory. I don’t need those close to me to be worried that my poop will seep into the atmosphere of delectables which in turn rots the air and the symbolism of the perfect family gone awry.

I don’t need friends to become unfriends with regret and tapered allegiance to the keyboard that onboards better friends.

I like being a modern-day misfit with threads of incoherence to boot. Nothing I say or do makes sense because life doesn’t make sense.

And it’s beautiful and soggy with demands for the explanation that I will provide in my bestselling novel that you will buy once the numbers get high enough for such indulgence.

In the meantime judge from afar. You look way better that way.

Juggling Wordsmith. I have a lot to say!