The Struggle of Taking Chances

I woke up crying this morning because I felt like a worthless piece of crap. I could hear cars outside being started and driving off while I was still in bed. I didn’t get out of it until after 11.

6 weeks ago I did what some have called a “brave” thing. Or stupid.

I quit my job with no other options lined up.

I was in a well-paid dead-end rut that I resolved was only good for providing me funds to do the things I wanted. For some people, that was enough, but for me it was an excuse to stay somewhere miserable. I was told it takes strength to leave something that gives security into what would essentially be a struggle and as I sit here typing, I’m having trouble finding and maintaining that strength.

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Hello Friends, Who’s #FeelingNuts?

I think I’m making this post more as a warning. There’s an organization called Check One Two who work to raise awareness for testicular cancer who’ve been rolling out a campaign a la the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge across social media. Sooooo, you know, if this happens to catch on there’s a horrible chance you’ll become susceptible to posts on your favorite websites of people grabbing their crotches and nominating their friends to do the same.

Celebs are already doing it!

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On How Attending a Predominantly White School Helped Me Get in Touch with My “Black Side”

Strange, right? You see, in high school where most of the kids in attendance were African American, I was constantly accused of “acting white.” That term, to this day, baffles me when I think of its [loose] definition:

Acting White: Essentially a non-white person who acts like a stereotypical Caucasian person regarding culture, speech and dress

The definition continues to say that particularly, my success in education denoted a form of “selling out” by betraying my culture. So doing well in school was bad for my black cred, or nah?


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