Remember: to care doesn’t mean you also worry.
I give a fuck about finding myself as an artist. What kind of artist am I really? To truly know myself means I can become confident, not worry about much at all. With confidence, with purpose, there’s no need to worry. I find myself being patient. I write to better understand my purpose. To know what I’m really about. It takes time. It doesn’t happen overnight. I’m confident in this process.
To have to deal with a paranoid mind makes it tough at times to not give a shit. I speak of how I deal with my paranoid mind. I’m litigious because I find myself over-speculating, perhaps so much so that it freaks people out. Or in the most basic manner of understanding, it’s awkward. My intent is never to be awkward- but shit happens. Can’t worry about it either. At least I choose freely not to worry about things lost in translation. To confuse someone, isn’t the worst thing possible. Piss people off, and that might stir others to block me on social media. Silly, really. I block people when, I say, “I’M OUT”, yet, I’m not allowed to peace out? My bad, I’m out. But no, no, no- ego rules more of us than you might perceive. Be aware of how narcissism works, and what it means in relationship to you as, let’s say as a follower, or a friend.
This isn’t a pissing match. To see who can piss highest on the wall. The wall of what? Fuck the wall, fuck the piss. Freedom of speech allows me to transcend the drama and focus on philosophy, as they relate to ideas. I’m not worried about the shit people say about me behind my back. People who talk shit behind others backs are called COWARDS. I don’t passive aggressively talk shit. Some shit happened, and it was fucked up. No one wins. Everyone should just move on. Transcend the urge to talk shit and blast someone after the fact. That’s immature too. About as immature as I am, me- the dude missing forty percent of his right frontal lobe. You want to condemn a mentally disabled person? Go for it. You do what you gotta do. But even as disabled as I am mentally, I realize I have the opportunity to keep it classy. Keep my side of the street clean. Let others litter their side of the street. That’s not on me, that’s not my problem. Do I owe a personal apology to the individuals I’ve wronged? I personally say nah. Because I feel that I’m partially correct in that those individuals are shit birds to a certain degree. And so truly I don’t feel I need to apologize for my anger/sarcasm directed upon them. I love Deadpool because he bully’s the bullies. Isn’t that badass? I think so, for sure I think so.
Some didn’t say shit. Still follow me. Maybe unfollowed. But, didn’t block me- and didn’t speak negative about me, regarding what they heard from others. I appreciate that, you all. Thank you. I may have unfollowed as well, but it’s not that I hate you, it’s just we now go our separate ways. And that’s alright, it really is okay.
Anyway, I don’t fret, I don’t worry, about this petty bullshit based on semantics. Oof, enough! And with that, I go now to watch something, or read something, or write something else. I may even smoke some cannabis (I have some really dank shit and I am ecstatic).
Try not to worry. In fact, just stop worrying. Command yourself to not worry. From your wild man friend, Philip.