I've written and re-written this first-blog-post-after-months-of-not-posting almost a dozen times now. How tragically optimistic my last post was, excited about my new venture yet completely blind of the shit-storm that was yet to come. Every time I thought about how I was going to write this, I schemed about crafting some cunning and witty, yet subtle slander about my twat ex-boss whom I chose to sacrifice way too much for, and top it off with a heavy dose of lamenting about all other unfortunate events that took place simultaneously. If only I could publicly whine about my life to induce some invited clemency, THEN I would feel better. But I haven't been able to shake the idea that my desire for worthless pity was not going to fix fucking anything. The choices I made were mine as well as the difficulties that went with them. And here is what happened.
Since last September, I:
- Did not get married when I was supposed to
- Moved to LA without a solid place to live
- Ignored my first impressions and took a job
- Acquired eight parking tickets
- Drove while I was distracted and got in two car accidents
- Didn't eat when I was hungry
- Didn't sleep when I was tired
- Let myself be treated like dog shit and all I did was cry + work harder
And all of it was self-induced; only worthy of inner mercy. I quit that piece-of-shit-ass job, forgave and moved on, but I haven't completely been able to let go of my fantasy of how I will perfectly deliver a flawless greeting when I run into them someday. If you asked me whether or not I would do things differently given a second chance, fuck yeah I would. But I somehow still don't regret it. Masochism isn't my typical avenue of choice and I guess I needed to give it a go to reconfirm the fact that oh yeah, this actually does smell like farts and yup I really don't like it.
It can't go without saying that without the help of many of those close to me (you know who you are), I might not have had a place to sleep many nights or a sane set of ears to help me through the worst of it. When shit gets rough, you'll quickly find out who your real dawgs are.
It's been some time now since that all happened but it didn't feel natural to be left untold. I've got just as much shit-talking about 2013 as the next person, but now all I can say is that those dawgs of mine and I are about to launch something way more awesome than anything I've ever done. Check out @backbite_ on Instagram and hold your breath...