White People are Ruining America

On White Privilege and Abortion

Years of forcing people of color to do basic tasks and manual labor for us has molded white communities into senseless lazy assholes without an original thought, who have become so accustomed to taking what they want they aren’t able to do anything for themselves. That is a fact. Whether you would like to accept or ignore that fact is up to you. However, the time is quickly approaching where anyone unwilling or able to own up to and fight against the institutionalized racism our country was built on will be left behind. The ability to ignore racial injustices is a privilege very few can afford. To live in denial about the atrocities taking place is to willingly stand against those harmed for things they have no control over. It’s hard to believe any God would let that slide. Continue reading “White People are Ruining America”

A Coming Out Letter

Greetings loved one! 

I had something I wanted to talk to you about and I hope I’m giving you enough time to respond to this. It has to do with how you responded to those pictures of Presley and David playing dress up with the neighbor girls. I guess my question isn’t so much of why you feel so appalled by those images, but if you’d ever be willing to grow out of those feelings.  Continue reading “A Coming Out Letter”

“God”

On the absurdity of modern-day religion

I have this theory that the god you worship doesn’t exist. It began as the idea that this life could not possibly exist under the parameters it’s been explained to me, and some other truth must exist. Last summer I was in Marysville California, some odd amount of miles north of Sacramento and east of San Francisco. It was hot, as summers in that particular valley are, and I spent my time sitting on a patio and getting high while talking shit and staring out at the plum orchards behind our swimming pool. The book of that summer was Joan Didion’s The White Album which is a collection of words she’d written and previously published during the 1970s. Inside which, my favorite article was one called Holy Water. If you look through any book I own you’re sure to find an abundance of notes scribbled in the margins, this one being no different. Continue reading ““God””

How to Write About Your Sexual Assault From Your Attackers Perspective

And Why The Hell You Would Ever Want To Do Such A Thing

I hate talking about the things that happened to me. I hate sleepless nights, memories constricting my airflow, and flashbacks so vivid it’s nearly impossible to bring myself back down to earth. It’s been a year since I started speaking out about what happened and these are still the things my brain subjects me to sporadically throughout the day. Just. Like. Him. Continue reading “How to Write About Your Sexual Assault From Your Attackers Perspective”

The Damaging Ideology of Perfection

The first time I realized my mother wasn’t perfect, that she wasn’t worth pleasing, was in December of 2017. There was a part of me that had always known the kind of soul-selling acts it would take for me to get a simple “I’m proud of you,” but I don’t think it had ever manifested itself so clearly as it had on that murky day preluding the week of Christmas. Continue reading “The Damaging Ideology of Perfection”

I’m in Love With a Man Who Doesn’t Know I Exist – And It’s Creating Some Mixed Feelings

Six years ago, on a sunny spring afternoon, I was watching MTV in my basement. I had a window cracked and the fresh air sauntered in a bit before settling over every stagnant thing. As I lay there, in my shorts and Queen band tee — I thought I was a badass because I listened to music that was older than me — on that brown leather couch, is when I first heard one of their songs. This was back when MTV would still play music for an hour block on Monday around 1 pm and I would always make my siblings go outside so I could listen in peace. The beginning chords to Kiss The Ring by My Chemical Romance hovered over me, overpowering the stench of life and successfully triggering my emo stoner phase. Ironically enough, I didn’t start doing drugs until after I got out of rehab. Continue reading “I’m in Love With a Man Who Doesn’t Know I Exist – And It’s Creating Some Mixed Feelings”