i don’t like it, begging for money on the internet. I don’t like begging for money, anywhere. it’s very triggering, it reminds me of some of the worst, darkest periods of my life. back when I lived on the street and had to spare change at Penn station to get by.
you know what, now that I think about it: I don’t like asking for anyone’s help with anything. I feel defeated when I can’t handle things myself, it makes me feel weak. it’s another one of those things where I likely judge myself more harshly than anyone else does. society has become so individualistic and fragmented, it used to take a village now its like “figure it out yourself, motherfucker.” life is fucking hard, man. I wish it was OK to need each other because I need you.
at least I write, though. it’s not like I don’t do anything, I think I provide some thought provoking content, when the writing is at it’s best. i’m intellectually dancing for change.
I assure you that I have no other choice, all of my family is struggling. my sister’s seizure disorder has shaken up my mother’s professional and financial life, meanwhile my father is In the psych hospital indefinitely. i’m looking for a job while knowing that panic attacks ended the last 2 jobs I had, so i’m very unsure how it’s going to be possible.
i’m fortunate in a lot of ways, yet unlucky in a lot of other ways. i’m not here to drum up pity though. i’m in an infinitely better situation than I was when I first got off the streets in summer of 2022, I have a roof over my head and my little digital command center to make the work that scratches some kind of mental itch for me. I fucking love writing. there are very few things like this that I’ve gotten into and not given up on.
because I kept with it, people got with it and it never ceases to amaze me when someone tells me they read this stuff. its usually around 500 a month. the fact that i’m being my authentic self and someone can connect to that is so reassuring in a world where there’s so much bullshit. I have written things about my life on this platform that I wouldn’t have told my closest friend a few years ago, and it frees me from the weight of the double and triple lives.
if you make money by writing, you’re a professional writer. by that logic, if someone asked me the standard “what do you do?”, I tell them i’m a writer. I use the tools that are available to me, I don’t have the patience to wait a long time to get my thoughts out there. I know it sounds pretentious, I know I run the risk of the cardinal sin that is taking myself too seriously. fuck I have to answer that dreaded question somehow.
I hate that question, “what do you do?”, it’s always so early in the conversation with new people. like they need to size you up to make that first judgement. they need to see how much money you have. unless you rescue puppies, cure cancer or some kind of thing that ignites your passion I don’t give a fuck what you do. fuck it, punch the clock and keep the lights on. I don't care what you do, I care who you are. I will however judge you by the music you listen to, I cant help it. I have difficulty respecting people with shitty taste in music.
I had no idea where I was going I just wanted to type, and now i’m way down the page. I love that i’ve been ok with just being and just writing these past few days, listening to all of this music i’ve recently discovered.
i’ll say one more thing: if you can buy me a coffee please do, but it would be just as helpful if you’d share my work. also, if you do read my blog i’d like to hear from you and maybe start a mailing list: ev.penk7@gmail.com
the coffee link: https://ko-fi.com/evr0ck17#
