Truly Madly Deeply

Dear Megan,

I guess we haven’t spoken in a while.

Do you still live in Austin?

How’s your brother?

I hope Becky and Mike are doing alright.

I moved to Houston or moved home or same difference. I never imagined being back here like this but that just goes to show you my lack of imagination. Austin was not working out like I had planned and after nine years I finally decided just to leave. I wanted a change. I will no doubt return, in fact I go back all the time, but not to live not just yet.

I was adrift and I was not getting any closer to anywhere I wanted to be. I remember when you had your apartment off Gracy Farms we would sit and smoke together on the balcony. We used to talk about all the different lives we could have. You hadn’t been in Austin long and I was getting restless. Actually I’m alway restless, you were too. That’s why you moved to Austin and that’s how I ended up here.

I wasted so much time thinking and talking about how much better my life could be but I never thought to do anything about it.

My parents have lived in this house for over thirty years. When they brought me home from the hospital this was my room. My same room except now I share it with an industrial safe full of guns and ammunition and a statue of Baby Jesus.

Catholic guilt is alive and well here at home. Relics, portraits of Saints, the Holy Family and grown up Jesus all smother the walls. Signs of a strong faith I suppose or perhaps a makeshift sanctuary from all the evils closing in on us every second of every day. Or at least I’ve always been lead to believe as much.

My Dad is not wrong. The world is a scary place, but I do not see the point in reminding the people you love the world has gone to shit and it’s only a matter of time until it shits on you too.

I’m afraid you win, so now what?

I sound ungrateful because I am. My parents have made many sacrifices for me over the years, financial and otherwise. But I still make it up here on my high horse to trash talk them because I am not too keen on their parenting decisions, like I know any better.

What an asshole, right?

My parents may not always say what I want to hear but they almost never tell me no. And whether or not they wanted me back at home, they let me move back in. But I worry about them a lot.

I’m just not sure they are as happy as they could be and I wonder whose fault that is. Most days they seem perfectly content with their lives but other days they seem so sad. I look forward to my Mom retiring so they can travel more and go on adventures together.

I’m still serving. I work in midtown now but I can’t say I enjoy it much. Don’t get me wrong I am grateful to even have a job, especially this one. Ibiza is the most kush serving gig I’ve ever had.

The bussers always have your back, food is good, and the money is great. My heart just isn’t in it. But my bills don’t give a shit what my heart has in mind so in the meantime that is exactly where I’ll be or at least until I get certified. I want to be a teacher.

I always thought I would teach at some point. Before I just rationalized that I was not ready but now I feel I should at least attempt this feat. I do not mean to sound shaky, even though I am, all I mean is I have my work cut out for me. But I am determined to stop serving and do some kind of meaningful work.

I’ve waited hand and foot on people for almost 14 years. All I do is watch and wait on strangers. The only stimulating part of my job is the money they leave when our transaction is over. I would relish the opportunity to leave a real impression on someone and for them to actually benefit from our interaction. At least more than a I’m not hungry anymore capacity.

I signed up for an alternative teacher certification program online. All the lessons are basically a study guide to prep me for the certification test. I’m not quite finished but I’ve made considerable progress.

Best case scenario: I pass the test the first time and start applying for positions in Houston and Dallas Fall 2016.

I’m not sure why I’m writing you a letter you’ll never read.

I felt safe with you, like we were family. You understood parts of me that only a handful of people are familiar with. We even had our own cheesy catchphrase to affirm that our friendship was solid like we were in a movie or premium cable series.

Madly deeply.

We all do our best to get by the best way we know how. Sometimes that involves a person so you latch onto them to keep yourself afloat when you feel close to drowning. And you convince yourself that you might drown without them.

You are not around anymore but I did not drown. And I have to stop relying on other people to take care of me, especially when I am not even trying to take care of myself. I just miss you sometimes and I hope that you are well wherever you are.




  1. Haim-Days Are Gone
  2. Janelle Monáe-Electric Lady
  3. Arcade Fire-Afterlife
  4. Childish Gambino-3005
  5. M.I.A.-Come Walk With Me
  6. Beyonce-XO/Drunk In Love
  7. Cults-We’ve Got It
  8. Best Coast-I Don’t Know How
  9. Paramore-Ain’t It Fun
  10. Sky Ferreira-You’re Not The One
  11. Kanye West-Black Skinhead
  12. Semi Precious Weapons-Look To The Stars
  13. The Julie Ruin-Ha Ha Ha

These are thirteen songs, in no particular order, that I danced, sang, or listened to on repeat last year that still require your immediate attention.

When I hear a song I usually associate said song with an emotion, image, or person. The song immediately becomes a memory to me, cataloged and stored in the jukebox that is my brain.

I don’t discriminate against music but I am critical of artists and their creative decisions or lack thereof. These songs are from artists I am mostly familiar with and a couple I’ve only come to discover recently.

I first heard Haim on the radio last summer. Forever was the single they were pushing off their first EP. These girls, sisters actually, sound like angels with leather jackets on leaving behind a trail of broken hearts wherever they go. Their husky voiced harmonies slay and would make Wilson Phillips green with envy.

I chose Days Are Gone because when I hear it I can’t help but sing-along. This song is perfection. It’s dramatic, catchy, and, like the rest of the album, isn’t about being dumped or heartbroken. This album is about wising up and moving on.

Janelle Monáe is a weirdo and I love her. While her previous efforts were ambitious, they also seemed highfalutin and inaccessible.

Electric Lady is a true achievement capturing her creative spirit and featuring some of her best work, both retro and soulful. The title track is smooth and irresistible, a funky Soul Train inspired shakedown featuring the incomparable Miss Solange Knowles. Shock it, shake it baby!

Arcade Fire’s Afterlife is heartbreaking and unnerving. This track, from their double LP Reflektor, is a haunting lullaby pondering the loss of life and love. And oddly enough might remind you of Greta Gerwig in an elaborate modern dance number, if you are lucky enough to have stumbled upon the YouTube music video. I’m currently learning the routine.

Donald Glover’s Because The Internet is polarizing, nerdy, moody, and sometimes even enjoyable. I’m quite partial to 3005 because, ironically enough, it sounds futuristic. I mean what is popular now is derivative of what everyone “agrees” sounds pleasing to the ears.

This sounds like an evolution, leaps and bounds ahead of the bitches and hoes rap/hip-hop bullshit. 3005 sounds like everyone’s new favorite song. Childish Gambino is looking for future sounds.

M.I.A. is one of my favorite shit talking, ass shaking, pot stirrers and Matangi is just another notch in her belt. She’s master of her craft and still full of ambition and creativity.

Come Walk With Me is a psychedelic groove morphing into a funky world beat. You might get confused dancing to this but that definitely won’t stop you from trying.

Beyoncé Knowles has silenced her critics and naysayers with the surprise release of her self-titled “visual” album complete with seventeen music videos. 17, seriously. This risky endeavour has turned out to be the biggest milestone in her career to date.

I had to pick two songs for you to indulge in as I have over and over again. This isn’t just some of her best work, Beyoncé is one of the best albums released last year. A slow jam, stripped down, in your face musical experiment that oozes with passion, sex, and charisma.

XO is a super sonic love song for the ages. A sweet melody slowly building into a bombastic stadium anthem. Drunk in Love is a sultry snake charmer flute song working everyone into a frenzy. Beyoncé does not play some cheap NSFW video vixen, she’s a goddess. Bow down bitches!

Cults are my favorite creepy cool indie retro rock duo. Their unique sound is part doo wop 60s girl band and grungy garage rock. Despite the dissolution of their own romance, Cults has thankfully continued on as a band with the release of their second album Static.

We’ve Got It is one of my favorites and somehow reminds me of black and white horror movies and cemeteries. Madeline’s vocals tip toe across tambourines and cymbals clashing back in forth with the slow strum of menacing guitars. Her haunting vocals have always left a huge impression on me and I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying them live.

I have tirelessly worshipped at the altar of Bethany Cosentino and 2013 was no different with the release of their EP Fade Away. True to form this lo-fi surfer rock duo has perfected their craft and offered up another stellar selection of confessional pop.

I Don’t Know How is Best Coast’s Wrecking Ball and Bratty B is always on point when it comes to bringing on the heartbreak.

This is what it feels like to have your heart stomped on. And this is what it feels like to watch the stomper carelessly walk away like they never even knew your name. Classic and timeless, I’ll never stop praising Best Coast for their honesty and effortless musicality.

Call them what you want, Paramore have transformed themselves. The trio’s self titled release defies genres and defines the band on their own terms. Besides the ukulele interludes that frame the album perfectly, gospel choir guest spots, and killer hooks Hayley Williams and company have always provided, there is also something different this time around.

Paramore have become more adventurous and grown much too big for the pop-punk sandbox they have been holed up in and are finally stadium rock ready. Ain’t It Fun is a clap your hands fancy free sing along about how shitty it is to have to grow up.

Williams’ vocals are always sugary sweet and delectable but bittersweet lyrics, thrashing guitars, and throbbing drums have always grounded the band somewhere accessible for everyone to enjoy. Not to mention the gospel choir in the bridge, take em to church Hayley.

Sky Ferreira is a beast. Her chameleon fashion sense is enviable and her music varies from indie-pop, folk, and grunge. She’s as talented as she is unpredictable and I impatiently await her every move. I’ve been smitten and apparently so has Miley Cyrus who has invited her to join the BANGERZ world tour she is about to embark on.

You’re Not The One is an 80s riff revved up and pulsing over Ferreira’s aching vocals. The ultimate kiss off. Her siren song is vicious and her latest videos are all love letters to David Lynch. :swoon:

I don’t care what you say about him, Kanye West is not going anywhere. And believe it or not, music would not be the same without him pushing buttons and breaking the rules. His ego is simply a result of the popular culture we have all perpetuated and he is one of our tamer creations, suck it Bieber!

Yeezus sounds like a big mess, but it’s a calculated move from a meticulous and maniacal genius. And there’s a staggering list of producers, samples, and collaborators to prove it.

Black Skinhead is Yeezy’s big black middle finger pointed in every direction. A battle cry full of pomp and fury as he charges against the masses. The unapologetic hellion is far from finished crafting his legacy.

Semi Precious Weapons will finally see the release of new music in 2014 and hopefully, finally, the recognition they deserve. Justin Tranter is an androgynous and electrifying frontman that is equal parts, Freddie Mercury, Iggy Pop, and Elton John. The energy on stage when he performs with the band is unmatched, raw, fierce, and unforgettable.

Look To The Stars is just a tease off their next full length release and I’m already salivating for more. While their kinky and edgy previous albums have never felt half baked, this isn’t the band I’ve heard before. Look To the Stars is new and different with a star vocal turn by Tranter reaching incredible new heights. A beautifully crafted earworm ready to be your new obsession.

Kathleen Hanna is a rebel queen but, unfortunately, you probably don’t even know her name. I thought I knew who Hanna and now I really get it. She’s one of the lone voices of feminism this generation has seen and mostly forgotten. She has a knack for speaking her mind and lucky for us she has still a lot to say.

Last year her new band, The Julie Ruin, released the album Run Fast. The Julie Ruin is some happy median between Le Tigre and Bikini Kill and equally as vicious. Ha Ha Ha is manic and synth laden laughing off an impending apocalypse. Rattle and hum brought to you by the original upstart.

Hot Fuss

It is a sick sad world that we live in that a woman still can’t catch a break.

40 years after Roe vs. Wade the government is still trying to regulate reproductive rights, mostly in the name of religion and a God given right to be self righteous. According to, in 2010 women who worked full time still only earned 77 percent of what men earned. And here comes the kicker, somehow Fifty Shades of Grey is supposed to be some kind of treat for you to enjoy while you are subjected to this culture of injustice.

Look alive ladies!

American culture has basically created industry after industry based on misconceptions of the female form.

Hey ladies, while you are and have always been considered historically inferior to men, advances in science and cosmetic products have presented several opportunities to mask your flaws to better provide you with the perfection you and your partner deserve. You can’t be loved if you don’t look like you’re worth loving.

So how does the expression of that oppression manifest itself in our popular culture?

Before celebs were 40 million twitter followers strong, they still had some shred of dignity and privacy left. 2006 was the dark ages for social media but news outlets were well on their way to the bullying subculture that has become reporting slash gossip mongering.

News outlets like TMZ and E! were offered unfettered access to celebrities thanks to photographers and paparazzi eager to make a not so honest buck. Pictures of celebrities without makeup quickly became celebrities without panties. Websites began posting NSFW photos offering a glimpse into crotch after celebrity crotch giving us a tour of the waxed vaginas of the stars. Everyone went down the vagina shaped rabbit hole and then there was nothing left to hide.

Perez Hilton in his infinite wisdom once told ABC News there was still hope for modesty.

“I think some people are still modest and respectful. There’s a reason we’ve never seen Jessica Simpson’s bits and pieces,” Hilton said. “Amanda Bynes, Scarlett Johansson. There are girls who keep their private lives private and their private parts private,” he said.

Hilton has gone on to make a name for himself chronicling the exploits of said females modest and not so modest for over a decade mainly focusing on their missteps and misfortunes. Taking cheap shots at women in Hollywood became chic and little by little it became commonplace to give up every bit of your privacy.

If there are no taboos then no standards can exist for what is appropriate.

There is no desire for a tease or foreplay just a demand to expose yourself. Prying minds turned into prying eyes and then the clothes started coming off, everyone went nude for magazine spreads, album covers, and music videos. Jailbait photo shoots and sex tapes of the stars blurred the lines of what was once off limits.

I imagine it is hard to say no if everyone else is saying yes.

More women being famously forced into a compromising position to further their success as an artist or actress. But I won’t portray these women as the eternal victim especially if you consider the number of times someone said yes instead of saying no, I won’t or can’t do that. Or being pressured by those who are supposed to be responsible for them, managers, assistants, and friends who should have said it was okay to say no.

The point I’m trying to make is that I agree with Lilly Allen, it’s hard out here for a bitch.

Allen has definitely had her fair share of successes and skewering from the press and fans alike and on Tuesday she released her first original single in four years, Hard Out Here. A comeback is no easy feat but Allen has come out guns blazing with a hot button single that already has the internet enraged.

Apparently there isn’t anything worse than being a feminist except for being outspoken and clever. So the appropriate response for a female trying to stand up and speak out against discrimination should definitely be to accuse her of racism and the exploitation of women, right?

I can’t remember the last time I heard a pop star sing a song about the glass ceiling and sexism in the industry. This is not a conversation anyone is willing to have. Rolling Stone and E! News would much rather ask you about your sex life or your sexuality in attempt to incite controversy with a scandal.

Guess what, that’s none of their fucking business.

An artist is responsible for promoting music not their sex or some unrealistic image of perfection.

All these “artists” begging for attention and Lily Allen steps out on a limb to make a statement and the genderists (1. genderist: a person that discriminates or is prejudice based on gender.) start lining up to tear her down. Her art only becomes more relevant when everything she is singing about rings true.

The video for her try and not dance to this single is just as brilliant as the song itself featuring a trip to the plastic surgeon, twerking, and a baggy pussy. Sounds just like a day in the life of a pop star to me.

You can swing words like cultural appropriation around all you want at Allen but the only person she’s really making fun of is herself. Oh and also the hypocrisy of video vixens and materialism in music videos which by the way isn’t exclusive to hip hop videos or any specific genre of music.

I hope when all the dust settles Hard Out Here will bring solidarity among her contemporaries instead of being another opportunity for trash talking and one upping. I can’t be the only one who sees there are already plenty of people bringing you down, why not make a conscious decision to lift each other up?

This is Definitely Not the High Road.

I understand that you are busy.

I am busy too.

In addition to reading a lot of comic books, I’m also busy masturbating, not working out, eating food that’s very bad for me, watching too much porn, and going to the movies by myself.

So I don’t have time for you either and you can kindly go fuck yourself.

I look forward to you not reading this.


I have these intense cravings all the time.

Lately my body will beg for a cigarette. And I remind myself if I smoke one that it won’t make me feel better but it will make me want another. I have successfully for the past month or so had one cigarette a week. Not on any specific night but usually after a night of heavy drinking. Just one cheat smoke though as opposed to the steady chain smoking my body is accustomed to but nicotine nonetheless.

Hold up, I already wrote this essay. Let me stop myself.

This is exactly what I’m talking about. I’ve already written the essay where I tell you I’m going to quit smoking but I really haven’t quit.

I need to write the essay about how I’m the person who says he’s going to do something and then doesn’t follow through. Always trying to toot my own horn and never really doing anything worth tooting about.

Writing a solid essay once a week, that is something I could be proud of if I did that.

I can’t seem to find a focus and my creativity is always stalled by trivial bullshit that clouds up my thoughts and distracts me from my writing endeavors. More excuses for my shortcomings which unfortunately come much easier to me than I’d like.

I have plenty to write about. I could write about how much I love Cults the retro garage rock duo with the throwback girl group harmonies that just slay. Or maybe about how Katy Perry just confuses me, but not in a cool she’s so mysterious and clever way. I thought she was talented and charming but I can’t figure out why she is always dressed for the main stage at Perfect 10.

I can’t sleep at night. I’m always busy chewing on the inside of my cheeks or dreaming of unicorns and Justin Timberlake. My head is spinning and I’m discombobulated.

What is GaGa doing in space and why is Kanye talking to Jesus at the Staples Center?

Christmas decorations hang over my head at Mozart’s and people are stopping in the middle of the street at green lights and running red lights. Modern life is chaos but I no longer believe there is apocalypse looming over the horizon. This isn’t the end of days, it’s just Thursday.

And I don’t think I should have to be medicated for everyday living. I don’t want to end up as dazed and confused as the general population would lead you to believe they are. I can’t afford those prescriptions or bad habits.

I get so emotional and it’s embarrassing. So I avoid dealing with my emotions occasionally. The intense dark and stormy bits hide deep down inside of me until they get spun around so hard they erupt without warning. At that point I usually focus my wrath on a singular person and God help me I say things I can’t take back.

And I’m sorry.

Most days I’m doing all the yelling in my head. Beating myself into submission and those are the days I can’t even drag myself out of bed.

My frustrations wrestle around looking for someone to blame for my shortcomings when honestly there isn’t anything to be upset about. You cannot live your life within your limits and expect to achieve anything amazing. Everyday should be filled with the unfamiliar and unexplored territory. Wishful thinking will not lead you to glory.

I can’t keep propping myself up as the ultimate writer’s block. This blog stands as proof I am a writer no matter how I may try to disprove the fact to spite myself. I haven’t failed if I don’t stop trying and after a two month hiatus I have succeeded again. I just have to give myself the fighting chance I deserve. So I suppose you’ll be hearing from me a little more often now.

Same time next week?

The Self Helper

Never in the history of Juice have I found the innate desire to put myself first. I do selfish things but mostly for attention, not for my betterment. I pursue conflict to create some spectacle to entertain myself or others. Even now when I think I should stay home to avoid a knowingly stressful situation, I fight the urge to listen to my better judgement.

This is the same nonsense responsible for my total inability to understand the urgency to save money or participate in a lifestyle that doesn’t involve me waking up hungover and showing up late to everything. Lazy, immaturity, or whatever stigma I clutch on to for absolutely no reason, I’m living a half life.

I feel like everything I do has been pushing me closer and closer to mediocrity. I am my own unwritten coming of age novel or never written screenplay, which by the way is going to basically reinvent the apocalypse. I’ve spent a lifetime making my life into a junk drawer. I can’t find the mail key and I save all my movie stubs. I’ve managed to make a mess of myself over time.

My life just needs a jump start to flush out the bad and maintain the good, like a colonic. I want my life to get a colonic not because I think colonics are chic but because I think it needs one.

I’ve compiled a list and I just need to narrow down the people, places, and things that weigh me down and takeover my impulse control. A life that is not my own has no potential. I’m aiming for perspective here while being quite aware that all my theoretical spitballing doesn’t have to necessarily result in results.

I’m working on self helping. I don’t think they make a brochure like that for anyone. Unlocking your common sense and discovering your new and improved practical life full of success and things that make sense and stuff. Something like that, right?

So I guess I’ve narrowed down my main goals as to actually trying to maintain my physical health I.E. working out or something that resembles physical activity and quitting smoking.

I haven’t worked out long enough to see results. I have irrational fears of working out in front of other people that I’m slowly overcoming because I’m toying with the idea that I could become vain if I work hard enough. I’m not up for a juice cleanse or boot camp but I know those are outlets available to someone interested in making huge sweeping changes in their lives.

Right now, I just wanna continue to shake up my routine with a trip down to town lake or faux yoga with Jillian Michaels in the comfort of my own home.

I’m not gonna make the cover of US Weekly for any weight loss achievement I may gain but that’s not the point. I don’t want before and after photos. There has always been a part of me that’s always thought I could never look “attractive” or achieve any kind of physical strength.

I’ve always thought myself a weak or fragile person.

Most of the time I’m either scrappy, scared shitless, or clueless. I just need to invest more in my potential instead of my shortcomings. Juicy could be other things too like tough, ambitious, and toned. I want to be a better version of me and I think that’s definitely good, not selfish.

I was a bonafide smoker for so long out of ritual and habit but I couldn’t seem to quit. I used smoking as an emotional crutch to deter dealing with other emotions. Passive aggressive behavior is my past time. At first, smoking was simply a social activity and then my participation in the service industry quickly escalated my social activity to a habit.

Then I began to think smoking a pack a day was normal because the people around me were doing the same.

Funny to think how your perspective of the world is so easily skewed. I can adjust my definition of normal to resemble what my life actually has become. Taking control of your life requires you to take on some responsibility. All the pressures of being the idea man are somehow so daunting you let things slip past you.

You resist the changes you don’t want to make in hopes of avoiding having to admit mistakes you have made.

When I fiend for a cigarette now I really get a feel for how I was trying to save face from my emotions with the physical act of smoking. By the time I’m done smoking this cigarette I’ll have forgotten why I was upset or instead of feeling upset and resolving the problem I could just smoke a pack to somehow express my anger and frustration.

Poison should not be your quick fix when you need medicine.

So I am currently not smoking. I’ve only technically cheated once or twice, in two weeks. I admitted that because I respect you and I don’t want to base our relationship on lies. Honest to a fault, why not?

I don’t want any of my relationships to be based on lies or to become superficial. That requires a lot of interpersonal skills slash willing partners. I don’t think I’m always a willing partner to the cause sometimes but that won’t stop me from trying my hand.

I’ve started considering the idea that if I have to avoid someone or not invite someone around, why am I associating with this person? When there are stipulations to tolerating someone I’ve included in my circle of friends there must be something else to address among friends.

I’m having an identity crisis because for most of my life I thought I had my Juicy self figured out. This is who I am, this is what I stand for, and this is what I cannot allow. Exceptions began to occur and I became so malleable or flexible and such a damn pushover.

I became an obstacle to myself. I can quit smoking when I want to. I’ve never worked out before so I’m not going to start now. The things I wanted for myself and the things I should be doing for myself got mixed up. I’ve decided to grab for the things I need now and find out what could really sustain me in a time of need.

My life will not be a bowl of cherries and I might not be able to enjoy every minute of it because of circumstances. I understand that but I will relish the opportunity to be the one who calls the shots and takes charge. Preparing for the really hard days and savoring the days that are too good to be true.

Just In Case

History, personal experience, and romantic comedies have left me with a minuscule amount of knowledge of which I feel necessary to share with you. I don’t know shit about shit but there are a few things I wish someone had explained to me sooner than when I had found out for myself.

Also, if I get too preachy I apologize. I’ve had three glasses of wine and you’ll have to excuse me.

Unfortunately people will disappoint you. The human race is unique and imperfect. I am dishonest, manipulative, and selfish.  And on a good day I can be anything but my faults. Don’t pretend to be anyone but yourself and you’ll be better for it.

Make mistakes, own up to them and don’t make excuses for fucking up. Also if you make a habit of it, figure out why before you become the disappointment.

Only a very short list of people will hold your hair while you vomit or stop you from falling over into a puddle of your own piss when you are too drunk to do it for yourself. I suspect there are also a few people who would run into a burning building to find me if I was stuck inside, I hope.

Those are the people you don’t take for granted even when they take you for granted. They are the ones who will tell you to pull your head out of your ass when you lose sight of things. Sometimes they will let you fall on your face and let you figure it out for yourself. They are invaluable and you should treat them as such.

There is never a good reason or excuse not to wear a condom. If you are allergic, there are alternatives and if you are given an excuse I assure you it will never be a good one. Your body is a temple and if you don’t think it as much consider reevaluating your priorities.

Knowledge is power, some STDs are forever, and a modern woman has options but those exist for particular reasons. Don’t be careless, be cautious. Emergency exits are for an emergency.

Prince Charming isn’t real and neither is Mr. Big. Fall in love with whoever you want but consider the reasons. You shouldn’t be with someone because they make you weak. You should be with the person who makes you stronger, the person you choose to be with and wants to be with you. And when or if they make you reconsider that decision be smart enough to walk away.

I’m gonna wrap this up with a juicy tidbit you’re gonna wanna remember.

Never ever give up on yourself, especially on the shit bad days when everything has fallen to pieces. Every now and then you’ll embarrass yourself and make the bad decision and say yes when you should say no. That doesn’t matter, what matters is being able to get yourself out of whatever hole you’ve dug and buried yourself in.

We don’t have nine lives but somedays you have to live like you do. That’s a long time to wander around and rely on other people because you don’t trust the only person you can really rely on. Don’t give up on yourself.

For @sophieraelevy and @dingbat94 XXXO