When You’re Angry and Depressed Just Get Naked
Your Body is Just a Body Moving Your Body Around
(Enjoy the video rant. An angry cry may occur in it)
I have, for many years, gone through phases where I fall into these dark holes. They’re dirtier and darker than anal holes let me tell you. Hippie-dippie people like to call it “the shadow self.” Whatever. It’s usually more menacing than a shadow, more like an empty cave that has a terrible heating and cooling system.
I care not about getting out of bed. I contemplate how I do not want to be here. And when I say here I mean Denver. I mean the United States. I mean Planet Earth. I mean here in this body.
I question my worth. I question every choice I’ve ever made. I question the people in my life and what might possibly be wrong with them to choose to spend time with me.
It starts as a simmer. Turns to a boil. Evaporates into nothingness.
The care not.
The heavy gray blanket that suffocates and keeps me from moving forward.
I return to my body.
It’s funny because I imagine that many people think I’m putting up pics of my tits and ass on Instagram as some sort of desperate plea for attention. Of course, I enjoy attention but that’s not my motivation.
I do it because it’s what I have to give.
We’re all put into these vessels of flesh to learn and grow and connect. I happen to be blessed with a body that other people seem to enjoy looking at. What do I care if they look at it? Sure, I’m in charge with taking care of this thing and I could do a better job about that, but I believe we all should experience more pleasure. So here I am, mostly naked, giving strangers pleasure.
Perhaps deep down I’m just a giver with not much to give.
One day this body will be rotting in the ground and no one will want to look at it then so I might as well take some pics of it now so there’s digital proof of its existence.
I found a sentence in an old journal of mine that read,
“We’re all afraid of going after our dreams because if we fail, we will have nothing left.”
Well, I quit my job nearly a year ago to write a book. I wrote the first draft of that book.
And here I am left.
The opportunity to edit and write Draft 2.
The opportunity to keep showing off my boobs.
The opportunity to connect to you and you and you.
So sure, I like the attention, but it’s merely a side note to a much bigger picture. The concept that we get to move around in this package of bones and muscle and blood and skin and shit; that it’s all we really have right here where we are until we are not here anymore.
So fuck it. I embrace the dark. The light. The unknown. The complete and total hot mess that I am. And of course, I embrace the boobs.
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