The older I get, the more I struggle to add substance to the friendships I’ve procured over the years. I’m not sure why, but finding people willing to commit, make plans or simply show genuine interest in what I’m proposing at any given moment has been very challenging lately. It’s like I gradually became uncool and my usual suspects discretely decided I was distant acquaintance material.
Keeping a calendar outside of work is becoming redundant.
So basically our amazing Supreme Court just said that a fucking corporation can legally impose religious beliefs on its employees. Corporations also have free speech, can contribute as much money as they wants to political causes, don’t have to take responsibility to things like poisoning water supplies or knowingly manufacture goods that kill people…
Because this country is the best, of course.
United Corporations of America.
Ultimately, Facebook is a narcissistic playground where the best, the funniest, the most charming aspects of our lives are publicized and the shitty stuff, the boring stuff, the beige that is most of our daily grind almost never gets posted. All those walls are edited at some level and that makes them, at best, a deformed mirror image of real life or, at worst, nothing more than a fictional movie of how we want people to see us.
— Roberto Sorokanich, This is why you shouldn’t take people’s Facebook lives seriously.
I try not to let my inner vortex of darkness surface during ordinary episodes of fuckery, but this morning I saw a woman applying a full face of makeup IN HER CAR DURING TRAFFIC and I felt my blood turn black and it took everything in me to not roll my window down and yell “YOU’RE STILL GOING TO DIE.”
So I tailgated her ass looking really, really angry.
I feel better now.
We are the girls with anxiety disorders, filled appointment books, five-year plans. We take ourselves very, very seriously. We are the peacemakers, the do-gooders, the givers, the savers. We are on time, overly prepared, well read, and witty, intellectually curious, always moving. We pride ourselves on getting as little sleep as possible and thrive on self-deprivation. We drink coffee, a lot of it. We are on birth control, Prozac, and multivitamins. We are relentless, judgmental with ourselves, and forgiving to others. We never want to be as passive-aggressive are our mothers, never want to marry men as uninspired as our fathers… We are the daughters of the feminists who said, ‘You can be anything,’ and we heard, ‘You have to be everything.
All good samaritan and shit…
The Alumni Association at UT reached out asking former students to become mentors for current students. I said fuck it, and joined.
A week later I got this:
“I’m a young writer and I want to use my abilities to change the world for the better. I’m no left wing activist nutjob, but I do believe in sustainable energy and reversing climate change. I know I can create compelling work, but how can I help my audience actually DO SOMETHING?”
Oh boy. (I left some stuff out to keep your veins from bursting)
I have nothing new to say about the insufferable “trendy” beliefs you wear like identity flags, but first things first: don’t confuse social media follower count for an actual audience, buddy.
To keep this short, your pet causes and vague sense of self-importance doesn’t make your work special or compelling. Having good intentions is not a “style” and hash tagging shit on twitter doesn’t make you an #activist.
Save face and stop saying you want to change the world. Aim for personal growth and a stable source of income, first.
I may or may not still be part of the UT Alumni Association Mentoring Program.
Either way, somebody needed to tell him.