Gangsta of loooove.

Instead of worrying about sounding pretentious or cliché, I’ve decided to simply stop. This is how I sound. So be it.


I used to write volumes about problems or crises that I would see around me. I used to rant about the state of affairs in the world that surrounded me.

But lately, not so much.

While driving home tonight after hanging out with my friends, I had an epiphany.

I don’t rant because I don’t worry.

This may sound selfish, but as far as I know, this is the only life I have and I will live it with the utmost enjoyment.

There is no time to yank my hair out or bang my head against the wall when I’m frustrated with politics or public education.

It is a waste of life, to worry to the point of immobilization. Or stagnation.

I do not mean to say that concern does not lead to productivity or progress.

I do not mean to advocate utter debauchery or all-encompassing hedonism, but there are moments when one must stop and realize her fortunes, without being bogged down by the constant pressures of society, which we all know are many.

Occasionally I experience episodes of total exaltation because of the wonderful simple things in my life, such as the guy who loves me, or the friends who have stuck by me over the years.

Happiness and love, and the appreciation of these two emotions, are meant to be simple.

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