I Love Cursing: So Don’t F***ing Judge Me

Hey, guys.

I wanted to address something.

If you are a regular to my blog, you know one thing for certain.

I fucking LOVE to curse.

It’s a habit.

I can’t shake it, especially when I’m talking or writing in my day-to-day lifestyle.

It gives my words more fluidity, more depth. It feels right.

I feel like cursing has become a lot more mainstream than it was when I was little.

Like, I wasn’t allowed to say the word “suck” without my parents bringing life to a full on halt and beating my little butt till it was beet red.

Nowadays I can get called a bitch by some four-year-old at my job and the parents could give two shits about it.

Like.

I don’t know.

And it’s not just me, there are so many notorious writers throughout history that have my same filthy gutter mouth.

I’m not alone here.

And I get told all the time by friends that read my posts that I should tone it down.

And yes, I do use this blog site as a reference to any hiring manager when asked for a ‘portfolio.’

And I know it’s not exactly “professional.”

But yah know what? Fuck it. This is me, this is who I am, and this is how I express myself.

If I was asked to write a more professional piece then, of course, I am more than capable to do so.

But this blog is my place to stretch and keep my writing and thoughts in tip top shape, and it just so happens that most of my thoughts are rated PG-13 and up… most of the time WAY up.

I will not censor myself for the sake of my art, and if I did, it wouldn’t be any good.

And that is why I curse.

Plus, I definitely read somewhere that people who curse a lot are scientifically proven to be more intelligent.

So for every ‘fuck,’ ‘shit,’ or what have you that you come across on my blog, just makes me more of a fucking genius. -Dee

Toxicity is Real

Hey, guys.

So I’ve been seeing this hot new trend in our mainstream society.

The ability to cut the toxic influences out of your life.

As a fairly new adult, this has been one of the things I’ve learned to do quite well.

As a teenager, you kind of had no control over who you could or couldn’t cut from your life.

I mean, if I went to school and my toxic ex-best friend was in my fourth-period economics class… it would be pretty damn hard to cut her out COMPLETELY.

But, as an adult, I feel like that’s one of the few things that we can take control of.

Sure the economy of the entire world is going to shit and we’re all broke and painting a false sense of happiness all around us… but sure, cutting toxic people from your life is the only thing that can really make you feel like you have a grasp on things.

I’m all for this trend of self-help. I say go for it.

But as I said to a friend just recently in regards to making yourself happy, there are some things in life you just can’t cut out.

Whether it be people or a job or what have you, some things aren’t meant to be cut away when the going gets tough.

Make yourself happy, sure. Without a doubt.

But sometimes the only way you can be happy is to actually fix some things in your life, before throwing them away.

Because once it’s gone, sometimes it’s gone for good.

And you’ll be more miserable than before because you didn’t put in every last effort to fix it.

I don’t know if any of that made any sense, but. My point is this:

Learn how to make yourself happy, but don’t do it to the point of isolation or loneliness.

Because if you cut too much from your life, all that will be left is you. And that gets pretty quiet after a while. -Dee

I’m a Living Ghost

Hey, guys.

So, if you know me, you know my life.

I’ve literally been stuck in this “quarter life rut” (aka quarter life crisis) for a few years now.

You know how it goes.

I’ve graduated college with a degree everyone says was a mistake to get, even though it made me happy getting it.

I’m still at the job I worked at while attending college.

That job does not in any way qualify me for any of the jobs I think I can get with my B.A. in English studies and Writing.

So, as you can guess, my life gets pretty repetitive.

I sleep, I wake up. Go to work. Make money. Come home. Walk dog. Apply for jobs. Sleep. Wake up. Go to work. Spend time with friends and boyfriend. Walk dog. Apply for jobs.

Sleep.

Wake up.

Work.

Sleep.

Wake up.

Apply for jobs.

Work.

Sleep.

Wake up.

Read through the rejection emails.

Work.

Sleep.

Wake up.

You get the idea. It kinda just keeps going on like that.

And, I know I have to pay my dues as a young adult, I have no problem with that. Hard work is nothing to be ashamed of. But.

I keep seeing people around me moving, constantly. Moving in their lives, bettering it, expanding, growing.

And I’m still here. Still stuck in the same routine, and I don’t know how to get out.

At times, I do think that maybe I’m a ghost of my former self or I’m stuck in some dream-like limbo where it’s the premise of Ground Hog Day and I just keep going through the same motions each and every day until one day it gets to me so much that I just have to scream at the world with every inch of breath I hold in my lungs until it all just shifts.

I don’t know, sometimes I think the repetition will drive me insane, and I’m truly scared for the day that comes. I hope it never does.

I just think, that if life grants us so many lessons and gives us so much shit… shouldn’t we at least be able to branch out from it? I feel like so many people have accepted the mediocrity of their mundane lives with no intention of breaking free.

Who, as a child, wishes to be a banker when they grow up?

A sales associate?

A restaurant manager?

I don’t know. Maybe it’s pretentious of me to say that, but. I’ve always known I wanted to become a writer. Ever since I was little.

And I know it’s hard, people tell me all the time that it’s a dying art.

But is it really? I think it’s more relevant than ever before. It’s actually evolving.

The point is: I’m not going to give up.

I will get depressed at times by all of the rejection emails, yes, and I will continue to curse my life and my low-income/high-volume job. But I will continue to write and I will always make myself known until the right opportunity comes along.

I refuse to settle. It’s simply not who I am.

I will not be a ghost, not for much longer. -Dee

 

 

Entitlement

Hey, guys.

I want to bring an issue to the surface that most Americans deal with on a day-to-day basis.

That issue: Entitlement.

Let me drop a definition of that word here for you:

en·ti·tle·ment
inˈtīdlmənt,enˈtīdlmənt
noun
  •  the fact of having a right to something.
  • the amount to which a person has a right.
  • the belief that one is inherently deserving of *privileges or special treatment

We’re gonna be focusing on that third bullet point in this blog post.

That third point is the very definition of American culture, doesn’t matter who you are.

This isn’t an opinion, it’s a fact. We believe we are so entitled to every little thing, we don’t actually realize what that looks like to others who can’t or don’t have access to every non-necessity we can get our grubby little hands on.

Here’s an example.

 

Nail Salons.

If you’re a woman or man in some situations, you most definitely have a friend who is always perfectly groomed. Meaning: fingers, toes, hair, tanned and perfect round the clock. 24/7.

You might notice that sometimes, that friend isn’t very high up in the world. They might still be living at home, having their parents pay for most of their needs. Maybe their job sucks. Maybe they never have a dollar to their name. Maybe it’s all of the above.

But they still find it in their humble little budget to get these services done for them every week or month.

But, no one questions why the nail artists that work at said salon don’t quite match that level of maintenance in their own personal grooming regimen.

But that said friend will have no problem looking down on them. Or criticizing someone else who can’t afford to go to the salon regularly.

Until they themselves hit a financial setback in their lives. Then they get all whiny and mad and throw a fit, blaming their jobs for not paying them enough. Or the salon for being so expensive.

They believe they are entitled to a higher quality of life, even though they themselves have never or rarely worked hard for it.

And that’s the problem with our world today.

No one can separate entitlement from privilege anymore.

You know what you should be entitled to?

A proper education.

Quality healthcare.

Food and shelter.

An opinion.

It’s privilege that blinds you from that fact of life, it’s privilege that is dragging this country down. And it’s privilege that is ruining our humanity and making it harder for us to face the cold truth of the matter.

Your life has its obstacles, no one person can deny that. But, you will always be luckier than someone else in this world. Do not judge someone else because they can’t be at the level you think you are at.

Don’t be petty.

Don’t complain.

Cause life can always get harder, and when it does, would you want someone to think lesser of you? -Dee

 

Love & War

Hey, guys.

Can I tell you something?

I am so mad at humanity.

Seriously.

Nowadays, we take so much for granted. We are terrible to one another, for the most minuscule and insignificant reasons.

I won’t get into every reason I’m mad [i.e. false patriotism, the fact that racism still exists, us murdering the planet but saying it’s all a hoax, our violation of ALL 7 deadly sins on a daily basis while we still maintain a false practice of our religions (mainly Christianity), our entire government. Like. All of it. The fact that I can’t legally own a tiger as a pet… etc.]

HOWEVER, all of those reasons pushed wayyy aside… my main qualm with humans is basic.

How we ABUSE each other, emotionally.

I’m a sentimental old soul. I cry during romance movies. I say ‘aw’ when old people kiss or hold hands. I swoon when I see a young family just starting out. I’m genuinely happy when I see my friends getting engaged (even though there is a spark of jealousy too, as I am still not).

My thing is. With all of the world’s problems, why can’t we just love one another?

As couples, yes. Romance in this time period NEEDS a reboot. Tinder needs to be cut off. These posts about ‘her being a gold digger’ and ‘yo man can’t be faithful,’ fuckboys and THOTS… it’s even in every single song being released and rated top of the charts worldwide.

I mean, have you heard the new Katy Perry? She’s offering herself up as a main course meal while half-naked with a dash of sequence. Where the hell is the romance in that?

Seriously. Pick a fucking flower. Wear a nice elegant dress. Go dancing. Take a walk. A quick kiss on the cheek if it’s the first date. Whatever you feel comfortable with if it’s more serious. Is it really so hard? Really?

And in general, really.

Love others as fellow people, whether they be neighbors, friends… complete strangers. Erase all barriers or preconceived bigotry. We live in a time of expression and evolution. People are not afraid to show their true forms, so why congratulate their bravery with hatred? We as a species have forgotten what a little love and compassion can do, how far it can get you.

I’m so tired of seeing hatred posted everywhere we look. Seriously. It’s everywhere.

Enough.

If you have the capability to show love directly, even if it’s just one person in your life, do it. Or you’ll regret it later.

Then try branching out and see what happens. Make this the new trend. If we start now, maybe the world in twenty or so years won’t be so bad.

Just a thought. -Dee

Memories Make Us Forgetful

Hey, guys.

So, today I’ve been thinking a lot about kids.

And for once, it has nothing to do with wanting them or not wanting them.

My biological clock is completely OUT of the picture on this one, though the problems that surround it are still not completely absent from my daily thoughts; as those are the thoughts that perplex me quite often.

No. Today I was thinking of kids and their memories. I want to conduct an experiment here, so comment below if you want.

Gather up all of your clearest memories of who you were or what you wanted before you hit age… 10, let’s say. How many are there? Who were you? What were you like? Do you remember every detail of yourself?

It’s weird, right? You can’t. Not completely, anyway. Not like the memories we had during high school or middle school, even.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this all day and wondering… what if we lost who we used to be in place of who we’ve become? Did we become someone our child selves would have hated? Or would we be our own hero? What made us change so drastically? And, if we had a recollection of all our memories, with complete clarity, would we be able to pinpoint the moment or the influence that so drastically rocked us at our core?

This has been bothering me all day, because I cannot for the life of me, remember who I was… as a child. I remember things like, what toys I played with and the color of my room… but what made me want that toy? Why did I like that color? What was I thinking about back then? And most importantly… what made us forget?

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just babbling about nothing, but I felt the thought was drastic and important enough to try to get it down into feasible words and utterings.

I don’t know.

I just feel like lately, I’ve been having an inner battle with myself and I think I want to try to backtrack to the exact point that happened… what made me dislike myself? I used to be so content and carefree… when did that all change?

When, did I change? -Dee

Screw Valentine’s Day: Pun Intended

Hey, guys.

It’s the worst fucking day of the year.

Valentine’s Day.

They should call it, “Disappointment Day” or “That Day in The Middle of Tax Season” or “Gain Ten Pounds Eating Shitty Chocolate Then Getting Drunk Off Your Ass and Watching {INSERT SHITTY ROMANCE MOVIE HERE} Day.”

Because any of those titles are more fitting than fucking Valentine’s Day.

I guarantee you NOBODY even knows who Saint Valentine was.

Do you? Seriously. Comment below if you do. Bonus points if you know what the fuck he has to do with Hallmark/Whitman’s/Teddy Bears.

Cause I sure don’t.

Look. I’m not one of those sour chicks that hates the day because some fuckwad boy back in middle school didn’t draw me a heart or give me a card on the day we had to come in and exchange with the whole rest of the class.

I’m the girl who doesn’t understand the hype. Why do we need to pin human affection on one fucking day? Who needs a forty pound teddy bear to validate their relationship? Who needs to be let down because your S.O. couldn’t afford that diamond bracelet you really wanted on THIS. SPECIFIC. DAY?

What is with the pressure, people?

Yes, I admit… it would be nice, for once, to be surprised and swept off my feet with something incredibly sweet and unexpected. But Valentine’s Day? Where’s the romance in that? Everyone KNOWS you’re gonna go do something romantic with the person you love/like. There’s no surprise factor. No spontaneity. It’s mostly just a mass disappointment for those expecting that one big gesture and going through the whole day, never to receive it.

I’m not sour on the concept. I’m sour on the pressure it puts on everyone. I’m sour on the way it makes lonely people feel. I’m sour on the way it makes taken people feel when they didn’t get what they wanted. I’ve been all of those people at some point, on this day.

That is why I hate this day and why it shouldn’t really matter. One day cannot define your love life, that takes many days, many gestures, and way less pressure.

If you’re like me, fuck it. Be your own Valentine. Treat yourself. Do what you would do for the only love in your life that matters. Yourself. That’s what the day should be called, “Love Yourself Day.”

Although, that should be an everyday thing too. Right? -Dee