Social media is some ill shit. It makes people money while simultaneously destroying lives.
Something I struggle with as a Writer is that as a creature – I don’t want anyone following, watching or absorbing anything outside of “their” our field.
Ever since my youtube sensation best friend killed himself, I’ve paid more attention to how people follow each other in particular realms.
I’ve seen asshole Writers, who are literal assholes in real life, get crazy global book deals that feed off of likes and shares.
I innocently walked into this webpage about ten years ago in the middle of major heartbreak looking for someone to talk to.
I never needed anyone to watch.
Part of why I’ve shut up the past couple of years is because I don’t envy anyone who gets money off of being paid attention to. I understand this is a contradiction, and trust me; I’m a prideful contradiction at best.
I just have a weird things I get pleased from. Private love. Dogs. Ink on a page.
These are things that make me sway. I hate followers. Don’t share this page, do me a favour.
It makes me happy I can make money and get by in the most ordinary way. Otherwise, I’d just be another asshole in the spotlight. Where would you rather be?
I’m married to a veteran. He was in four wars. Well, he was
He was sent to Iraq twice.
And the best thing about it is…
The best thing…
No one asks me any fucking questions.
To him. Everyone sighs and
Like they aren’t
Thankful this mother
Fucker put it all out. Just so
The rest can Pro –
Lane. I stay in mine
And he doesn’t give
I was married
Three times. Lucky.
But the number;
The Spanish One
Who never said
Anything was still
Not good enough
My wild heart.
(i hoped so
Eats souls deep
While we are a —
Round. We circle
FollowMeToNYC is a creative processing ground which expresses individual ideas that often change with the tides. Naturally, these ideas do not reflect those of any of my employers, or anyone else you might see me wandering down the street with one day.