Don't Confuse Confidence

"Dominican" T-Shirt & panty set, Gift from SHANWEAR.com

10.11.11, I thought... 

I know when a girl is prettier than me. I don't give a shit, though. My mind is fucking beautiful. 

The worst thing you can do to yourself is compare yourself to other women. It's not that I never doubt myself, it's that I correct the issue the moment it arises. 

I'm in love with myself. I've seen my strength. I've seen my endurance. I've seen myself fall and rise again. I've read my own writing and listened to my own voice. I've heard supporters applaud me in my accomplishments. I've also seen the envy in the eyes of those close to me. I love me because I know me so well.

There's nothing not to love about me. I am flawed. I'm never going to be America's Next Top Model nor Idol. While I stand tall at 5'2, my voice is pitiable. Still, that doesn't stop me from posing for the cameras or singing my heart's desires in the shower. 

I think I'm... pretty. Decent. Bearable. I spend enough on my shoes and maintain my mane (although I seriously need my ends clipped). I try to make sure my nails are filed and painted and that I'm at least 5'5. (I'm 5'7 today.)

I invented this thing & now they call it "swag".  It's nothing more than being unaffected. Indifference. Insouciance. It's not giving a fuck. It's... me. Everyday, I'm happy. No one can take that from me. On certain days, I'm happier than usual. This may be due to a text, a call or from looking myself in the mirror. I'm aware of what's going on in the world but I'm not bogged down by it. I live life. Every second of it. That is why I'm beautiful. I need no further justification from anyone else.

Today, I think...

        Never going to be America's Next Top Model? What was I thinking? No, I'll never be on those shows, but I'll have my fair share of the starlight. CJ's been getting phone calls from people who used to know him. They're afraid that he's changing. He might be getting a big head. Something might be wrong. "I'm just not afraid of myself anymore," he told me. When he spoke it, I realized I couldn't agree.  Interviewed @MillsDaComedian (CLICK HERE TO VIEW) a while ago. He'd seen me f*ck around on stage at an open mic and February and decided that I'm scared. The words "scared" and "fear" are my least favorites, so I couldn't totally agree with him. There was hesitation inside of me, yes.... but why? What the f*ck is stopping me?

         When I was 15, I was an angry poet at large. I couldn't be stopped. I'm not sure how words come together so smoothly for me, but for some reason, they love me as much as I love them. I've never forced anything I've said. Everything simply slips from tongue to paper and while it's not easy, it's not hard. When my brother passed in 06, I stopped writing. Not on purpose, I simply didn't have any words. Instead, I spent my college years participate in open mics & slams using poetry I'd written when I was 16. Quite honestly, I had died as well and it's a bit difficult to express that to a crowd of people waiting for you to be live. During college, I wrote one piece in which I told God to go f*ck himself and spoke to my brother directly as I'd never done before. 4 years. One poem.It gave me my life back though. 

          You should see me in person. I think I'm hilarious. At first glance, everyone thinks they can/should try their hand. "Innocent" they call me. But when I open my mouth, the words that make their way out are just as you read them here. I get nervous on a mic, but I never get scared. Usually, I'm more pissed off than anything else. I'm always excited for the opportunity, but I can't help but to wonder if everybody watching me understands how dope I am... Cocky? Nah... Confidence. And second place is a bitch.

      I got on stage the other night --via StreetPoetsNYC -- and f*cked up this one "verse" I have over a Madonna song. I knew I wasn't ready... well... I wasn't super ready. But this piece is giving me life right now & I need to find a way to perfect it. What you end up noting though, is that there is no way to prepare for an actual event unless it's in a similar situation. I know I'm not ready for a big stage, but I'd be an idiot to not try my hand. The more you wait to do something, the more time passes you by. The most amazing part about being "good" at something, though, is how good you are when you f*ck up. 

       People love me. I've got a good persona. "Could you do that for me?" he asked. "Do what?" I responded with a side-eye. I hate being rude, so when people (mostly guys) speak to me on the train, I speak back. The part that always sucks is when they're getting closer to their stop & have to make their final attempt. "Be my friend," he replied. 

"I'm a terrible friend," I told him. 

"How's that?"

"I'm very busy."

"That's cool. I just text sometimes to say hi," he tried. 

"I don't even do that," I responded. "And that's the truth," I added on with a laugh. Everybody thinks that I'm playing around and... sometimes, I am. But always seriously. Not to downplay that open mic --It was fantastic & a group of phenomenal people --but had I not gone there, I'd have gone home to recite my newest, dopest lines to Duchess, who doesn't know how to stand and ovate. I have to go out and practice in real life. You've got to move before you're ready so that when you're ready, you know how to move. "You guys can wave back and forth with me if you'd like," I'd started out as I waited for Madonna's intro to smooth out. "One day, I'll be on a stage and you'll all do it with me anyway, watch," I told them. It wasn't premeditated, but shit like that slips through my lips often. But it's true. People don't know who to like... but I know who they should. Granted, I'm not where I aim to be... but this is a tough move I'm making. I make a spectacle of myself and hope the crowd will enjoy it.  The other night, I got up there --pretty face, heels and mascara -- and surprised them with a little "gangsta". They enjoyed it. I suppose that's all that matters. I suppose I am, indeed, the greatest.

They scream, Ella!

Don't do it!

You might fall!

The last few did. 

But if you do it, 

do it legendary:

Take them to the morgue. 

We'll help you bury. 

     

Missing the "Mr."

8.8.11

Exactly one year ago, I thought....


Only thing missing is the "Mr."

I'm not too good. I do the dishes even though I have a dishwasher. 

Have you ever dated a confident man? It's exhilarating... if you're a confident woman. 

My cards are up. All trust.





8.8.12

Today I think...

        Fuck that. Get money. Seems like all everybody wants is a little bit of company. Understandable? Yes. Affordable? No. I don't need OR want anyone in my life who just wants to take up time. I don't know who I was dating this time last year --which says a lot. This time last year, I was going out on dates with whoever wanted to pay for the meal. I was abusive. 

               I think that people are putting far too much emphasis on "relationships" and not enough on love. If you're in love, be in love. But a relationship is a relationship. It's anything between too people. It whatever that relation is. Love is love. You tell me which you prefer, but be ready to get the f*ck out my face. Because even when you have that "love" conversation, they can't stop thinking about what's between your thighs or what's in your wallet --I'm addressing everyone, friends and phony fellas. Everyone wants to benefit from you. A man wants a woman who cooks, cleans, does laundry, and s*cks him off... and they do what? 

              Please. It's all bullshit out here. Too many men are far too afraid of what is or is not in their bank account. I spend my last penny on myself, because I'm worth it. I want someone who feels the same. I want to mean more than the cash. I lost my last boyfriend because he wanted to pretended to be able to spoil me. If you talk money to me, I'm gonna talk it right the fuck back. He'd have conversations about other girls' broke boyfriends and then get mad at me over his bank statements. I'm sorry, boo... but that's what happens when you impersonate a baller. Shit gets foul & you look like  a b*tch.

            It's not all about money (even though it is). Money shouldn't mean shit. You should get it to blow it. To live. You gotta give your 10% back to the world. You can't be so greedy. I believe both people in the relationship should be working towards the same goal --yours may not be money, cash or doe, but mine are all three. You don't have to like what I like, it's a free world & the theory still stands. If you want someone who'll lay in bed with you all day, you need to keep in mind that that person is laying in bed all day. Either you find a way you & him can make enough $$$$ to do that, or you're okay with your partner being a bum. 

No disrespect, it's really - factually - one or the other.

I don't have the time till I have the credit.
Until everything has stones in the setting. 

ELLA

Crazy Talk

Cuz I don't understand how your love can do what no one else can.  Beyonce - "Crazy in love"      

          When you grow up, you realize how immature you were. And how your initial thoughts are the most base ones you have. And how overtime, they'll continue to form until the actually make sense. I grow up all the time. Today, for example. Whenever I'm upset, my initial feelings are always about myself. How I feel in the moment. How fucked up the current situation is for me. Everyone else is the enemy, I promise you. I don't think there's anything wrong with it. I believe that I have the right to feel something. And however it comes out first is how I was feeling at the moment. But have you ever stepped back from a situation and reevaluated everything you stood for  a couple of days, hours, minutes ago? Then it all sounds so stupid. It was all so pointless. So many emotions reacting with one another producing unpredictable, uncontrollable results. This is what it's like to be a woman. We are insane. 

     No one did anything to me. Someone told me that once. I was probably yelling about something or other and I don't even remember who it was (I was once a big yeller) but I remember someone telling me that no one is doing anything to me. No one was hurting me. No one was out to get me --especially not him. I try not to think about men so much. I try to not concern myself with where he is and what he's doing and who he's with --because eventually, you've started envisioning him in places he shouldn't be doing thing he shouldn't do and... you drive yourself insane. You've quietly put together a scenario to play through your head as if desired and if you're not strong enough, those thoughts will  begin to control you. You get nervous. You get anxious. You being to think about reasons why he might be somewhere else. You give him license. And as you slowly lose your sanity you show him your ugliest face: the needy, controlling version of you. But you promise that's not you, that's not the person you are. I mean you were. But you're not anymore. I mean you are... but what's so wrong with that? What so wrong with wanting more? When you get to that last thought... and agree with it, you've officially lost your mind. 

         I'm learning to relax. I'm doing well so far. I'm trying to empty my head of the thoughts in it. Somehow I've written about a topic I aimed to avoid. I began this piece trying to semi-apologize about my last post, but I don't care enough about it anymore now that my insanity has taken a hold of me. 

Fuck. I dont like boys. 

I love 'em, though. That's the problem.

          Men have such a great importance in a woman's life. So much so that I was hating on a girl I don't even know (and I'm a fantastic hater when I want to be, thank you) because I'm all alone and she's not. Sheesh. What a loser. What's my issue? lol.. but I mean, really. I needed to know. Part of me just wanted to prove that I'm a good woman, too. That the fact that my ring finger is bare means nothing. That I'm perfect for someone, too. Exactly as I am. Flaws and all.  As a grown woman... I'm ready and willing to admit that I was a little bit jealous. And I'm trying to understand why. I think... we all want to be chosen. And that is kind of what marriage means. Actually... I think I'm on to marriage because boyfriend sounds so... stupid to me. Like... I don't want a boyfriend. I want a man. It's a tough place to be in because you don't want to feel like you're giving yourself to someone who isn't committed to you, yet... calling someone your "boyfriend" doesn't make him faithful. You want to know. You want to be sure. But... if you're not sure from the beginning, you never will be. (And you should probably quit while you still can.) I don't want to fight for someone's trust, I want them to just trust me. I don't want to have to wait for him to prove himself I want him to already be who he needs to be. I don't want the stupid beginings. I don't feel like playing hard to get and figuring out if I like you, I want to like you. Immediately. I want to be excited by the thought of you. I want to feel something. 

     Do men have these problems? I don't think they do. Men don't care who thinks what about them.  Maybe there's one or two guys out there who get jealous of their married friends but probably only because the wife is hot.  They don't go home and reminisce about the day and who wronged them. The only people who can do this to them is women. We drive them insane so they're just like us. The things a man will do for a woman if he loves her... I wonder. My diluted-jealousy only lasted but so long. I  can only hate on a girl for a short period of time for two reasons: 1. Her's ain't for me. She doesn't have the one I want. Of that, I'm sure. So it doesn't phase me. (This is where crazy calms down.) You can only envy what another has to a certain extent. It's one thing to want something like that for yourself evetually, and another to want that exact thing at that very moment. The correct way to approach the feeling is to know that, one day, you'll have something better than that. And it will be better because it will be yours. Your time will come. & mine, too. 2. I'm not a lesbian. It makes me uncomfortable to think about another woman for too long. I have no reason to. 

      I'm around too many older women and wedding dresses & its detrimental to my mental health. My mom works in a bridal shop. My office (full of women 30+) is bling central. I work in the garment district so it flooded with nothing but lace and dress shops. It comes to a point where you have to accept that your time will be your time. When you do, everything slows down. Your heart stops betting so fast. You can taste the air you inhale. Your fingers loosen. Your shoulders drop. When you accept it, you can relax. I get crazy spells every once in a while but I'm learning to talk myself out of them. It's just the the world puts so much pressure on a girl. I need to be perfect. Perfect height, perfect skin tone, perfect track record, perfect taste, perfect wardrobe, perfect toes, perfect abs, perfect ass, perfect shade of lipstick, perfect morals, perfect hair, perfect... everything. And if your man doesn't admit  that he wants perfect... he still does. Wouldn't it be perfect to be perfect? At least perfect for him? To be everything he wants? So that he'll never have to or want to look elsewhere? 

      But you know what would be perfect? If I can be perfect just being me. That 5'2 (and a half) is exactly what he dreamed of. That he likes his ladies to look like coffee with a splash of cream. #BrownSugar. #InTheRaw. And that he can accept my toes and my wearing heels 6 days a week. That would be perfect.  If I could just be me and to know that at any given moment he'd think I'm beautiful. The freedom not give a damn where he is and what he's doing because he knows where home is because he'd be insane to leave me and crazy about me. 

And it will be perfect. 

I just exhaled for the first time in weeks. 

Fuck. 

Run The World

   You know you love it how we;re smart enough to make these millions, strong enough to bear our children  --then get back to business. Beyonce - "Girls"

     I've been thinking a lot about me lately.  A certain Miss Brittany ( you know I love Brittany's, no matter how you spell it) asked me a while ago to give you advice on how to get a job,  I've been troubled about it since I read the FB message it came in. All I can think is that there's a gorgeous girl, with a ready mind,  a wide smile,  eager eyes and reckless determinations sitting in my inbox and I don't want to steer her wrong. I don't want to disappoint her.  I wish I had secrets to tell you. I wish it were that easy... but then again, I don't. You see, the world of employment is a beast. Either you have a job or you don't. When you don't, all you can focus on is your need for a job. Any job (if you're thinking clearly). One place many people make the mistake is in thinking you're more qualified than you are. There are people who have been doing what you want to do, what makes you so special? That's what you have to prove to your employers. Chances are though, they might not see it. Especially if the one who happens to apply is Black. I'm just saying. There are jobs, but people have prejudices that are sometimes beyond their own control as they are engrained in the corporate culture. You're task is to make it passed the bullshit bureaucracy that guards the front line to your future. 

    I can't guide you here. I can't tell you how to find a job except to look for one you want and apply. If you believe in a god, I suggest you pray to him/her/it. If you don't, cross your fingers, tie your laces. It's a big world out there. You need to implement some problem solving and creativity. You'll need to watch more PBS. Curious George was on this morning and realized what I was supposed to (since I'm an adult watching kids shows and all). I saw two short segments in which little George implements these two skills. He's got to make a pinata for a surprise B-Day party but the paper-mache will take far too long to dry. He ends up taping together two raisins containers to make a pretty bad-ass (and healthy) alternative. In the second part of the show, George and his friends want to take gymnastics class but the class is only once a week. In order to excel and practice, they create their own gym in the yard out of ordinary items and show great improvement when they return to class the next week. 

      The only advice I can give is... don't give up. Once you give up, you're out of the race. The pack has already sped by you. Now I know this may sound like bullshit, but there's a reason we used to watch cartoons. They tell us what to do. You need to take initiative. If you want o succeed, you need to chart out exactly what it is you aim to accomplish and find the best way to get there. If you want that job, you need to find an open position, find someone who can hire you and find the reasons why you are the best, most qualified candidate. If you haven't yet figured out what you want to do, try out whatever opportunity presents itself to you. You might like it. You might be able to turn it into something you do  like. And in the worst case scenario, you'll have gained some experience. 

      For those of us who are already on the job, the questions are a bit different. The questions vary: How long do I do this?  What do I want  to do? How do I get there? I don't have an answer for these either. I met a guy in the post office once who used to do my job. "How do I know when to move on?" I asked him (I take part in some very serious conversations with strangers) to which he told me that at the point when I feel like I've mastered my position and everything that comes with it, it's time for a new position. It's time for a challenge. You don't want to get stuck somewhere -at least I don't. And I want to move fast. I'm uncomfortable with comfort. And my ends aren't satisfying my needs. I need more. More responsibility. More purpose. More importance. More money. 

      I just ordered business cards but I've decided to omit my title. Not because I don't like my title, or that I won't like the next one, I just don't plan on keeping a title for too long. The only "title" that satisfies me is my name. This is something I'm debating bringing to my employer's attention. I've practiced my stance for so long it's morphed into a soliloquy outlining my dreams and aspirations and I'm not sure anyone wants to hear that... but I'm not sure I give a fuck. I once had a conversation with my boss about how this "new generation" thinks they can take over the world. He insinuated that assert ourselves too much. We think we are owed something. We think that we can come into any and every company and completely take over. The thing is, you can't let Rome know you're invading before you begin your march. You've got infiltrate and take the muthafucka over. Perhaps that's what I'll do. I'll give them warning. I'll let them know I'm ready for battle. But one way or another, this shit is mine.  It's a takeover. 

The breaks over. 

      The key to this shit is knowing whom you should know. Speaking to whom you should speak. This is the part of the journey where you stop giving a fuck about everyone else. Where everyone else works. How much everyone else makes. Where your friends live. Where your mom is. What' comfortable. If you really want to make moves, you've got to make them in your own best interest. You've got to put you first. You need that job. So you have to put in the effort. Introduce yourself to people. Lose your shame. Let them know you're on the market, but make them feel like they need you on their team. Exchange cards and emails. Follow up. Send thanks you notes. Kiss ass when it's worth it. You've go to humble yourself.m You've got to realize that you need that job, but they don't need to hire you --unless you can make them feel like they should. Approach every interview with confidence. Assure them that you'd be able to get the job done even if you have no idea what the fuck is going on. Prove yourself worthy. Present yourself as valuable. Luckily, I met the right person and left him with the right impression. I sit here now, writing to you as I fill in for him. It was a stroke of luck. An opportunity had presented itself--I sure as hell wasn't letting it slip by me. I followed up. I kept in contact. I worked my ass off.  And I'm here. Still working my ass off

      &, of course, I have to insert a "Dear Black People" segment: Sometimes, you've got to let everything go if you want to do the best for you. Which means, you'll have to do it alone. If you don't want to, if you feel like you can't, thats perfectly fine, but you'll be perfectly mediocre at the end of the day and, I garuntee, not living up to your full potential. Sometimes, you've got to leave what you know to find better 00if you knew better, you'd already have everything wouldn't you? You need to avoid basing your decisions on how much free time you'll have (or won't have) or where your friends will be. Because there's plenty of free time after you retire and your friends should always be there, no matter where they are. 

    And you don't always have to take the hood with you. Sometimes, I feel like people are helped back by everything and everyone they have to carry with them. I used to dream about buying a mansion that all my friends and family can live in (rent-free, nonetheless) until I realized that they're people, too. They can pull their weight, too. There's no reason why I should carry the burden of supporting my whole family, never mind an entire community. And unless I can, one day, give Oprah a run for her money, I don't plan on sponsoring an entire race. I have enough time supporting myself. I considered getting a dog and have to double check to see if dog food and a dog-walker could fit my budget. I once dreamed of bringing "my niggas to the building. Give a feeling that I don't give a fuck. [We'd be] chilling watching chandelier ceilings high as fuck," and I still do. But I've realized that I may have to get a small chandelier before I can hang the big one.  

So... good luck. I'm sure there is much ahead. Just remember that every day has 24 hours for you to take advantage of --if you want to.  Take advantage of every moment with no regard. If you want to, you can run the world. 

To the Underdogs.

I get out. I get out of all your boxes. -Lauryn Hill "I Get Out."

        My homegirl Mo asked me to write on this topic a while ago. & While it might seem to her that I only half-heard the suggestion, she has no idea how the suggestion plagued me. I say plagued because it wore  on me. Whenever I get a suggestion I feel like I have to come through on it. I have to come around and answer the question. Perhaps I won't be on time. Perhaps it's not when they need it... but it's written when I feel most comfortable. And that's the most beautiful thing about my having this blog --I've never been more comfortable. 

      Truth is, whatever you read on here is always delayed. IF you think I'm in love, I'm probably not. If I was upset Im probably over it. It's just... written. Freely and openly and sometimes that's hard. Ashley texted me the other day and congratulated me on finding "Mr. Right".  By the time I responded to her, he was "Mr. Right Now" and as of now, he's Mr. Thursdays. My life moves fast, man. Sometimes I can barely keep up with myself.  Worse though is trying to keep up with people keeping up with me.  

      My blog is a lot of things. But one thing it'll never be is my everything. I do this for fun. & I think I do it well, because... I allow myself to. &  the readers have allowed me to. I try to be open. I try to be honest. But that's one of the toughest things to do when everyone is a critic. Everyone has advice for you and everyone thinks you should listen. & the reason I understand that it because I'm one of those people. I always think I'm right. Even when I'm wrong. I rarely admit defeat, but I can if I need to. But in order to do that graciously (and rarely) is to take part in few of those situations. The comments part of blogging can be a bit hurtful, and I mean the blogs can be hurtful to some as well. But really I think I have the right to express myself in a venue that I've created. And people are welcome to have their opinions on my thoughts but they must not forget that key ingredient to those thoughts is me. 

      People expect you to hide yourself. To be ashamed of yourself. They see things about you that they deem as qualities they'd rather not have and assume you'd feel the same way. For example, I'm materialistic. And many of my posts are clear evidence of that. I like nice things. I am motivated by money (hence, why I go to work everyday.) Some people might see that as a poor quality, but it's what drives me. & It's my truth. There was a time when my friends would call me a gold digger. Until the day they got caught up with a broke man and they finally saw my side of the story. The first thing you have to do with your "poor" qualities is accept them. Some people think you should change, but I argue you are you who are... and some of those things, those things that make you doubt yourself and make you feel like less than the people around you, you can't change anyway. 

      I hated me. I hated my hair. I hated my skin. I hated my clothes, my weight, my family, my school. I hated a lot about me. But many people would have never guessed. A lot of these feelings came from outside of me. I focused on what other girls looked like. On what the boys seemed to like. On what other's people's families were like. On what, from the outside, appeared to be signs of happiness. I wanted these things. Eventually,  I realized that I wasn't the only one putting up a front. We all do. We all pretend to be happier than we are. To be more content and satisfied than we are so that no one can think we're going through it. But in reality we're each as insecure as the next person. There are  a lot  of things about you that you cannot change. For example, your hair, your skin, your family, your mind -- and these are things you shouldn't want to change. 

        I think the reason so many people (girls in particular) have such low confidence is because we take every struggle so personally. We pile them up one on top of the other and decide we're terrible people. Maybe I'm just speaking for myself... but finally, I'm not afraid to say how I used  to feel regarless of if it was due to my peers., due to my socio-ecominic issues at home, due to my cultural upbringing, due to the poor school system, due to societal pressures and "norms", due to racism, due to poverty, due to sexism or elitism....It doesn't matter what the root of the issue is. The problem is that I felt I couldn't break out of it --even though I very well could have. Because in the moment, I could have never admitted to how I felt. How dark the world was. How uncomfortable I was with myself no matter how many shoe boxes I piled into the back of my closet --and I piled a lot. The white patent on pink canvas were my favvv. But I got them in a 5 because that was the only size left knowing damned well I was a 5-and-a-half but I didn't want to have "big feet" as my friends used to say... But check this: Now I have the hottest heels they can't fit into cuz my feet are too big :) Suck, eh? How could I have told my friends --light-skinned with long curly hair --that I wanted to look like them because boys liked them more? How could I tell boys that in preferring girls like that they were tearing me down from the inside out? Or even admit that the little white girls outfitted in UGGs, North Face jackets & juicy bags in the fifth grade ate away at me because I knew exactly how much that stuff cost and knew I could never even beg for that kind of stuff for Christmas. How could I explain all that to people? Even more difficult; how could I explain that to myself?

         You've got to accept yourself and realize that you are an individual.  And this is who you are. In one of Lauryn's Unplugged intros, she says something along the lines it makes no sense for us to be alike. How is it that God (if you believe) created each of us as unique individuals, yet we're expected to fit into a mold? She's right. That makes no sense. Better yet, that's stupid. You are you and perhaps you simply haven't been able to see yourself clearly is all. But you should embrace that which is you. And if the rest of the world doesn't like it then fuck them. Trust me, there will come  time when your true friends will come to light and you'll see with clarity that they were sheep in wolves' clothing. And those who loved you in the beginning will still love you in the end --through the turbulence. 

        And you know who else will be there when you finally start to love yourself? You. Because you know you the best. And as much as you might have done to yourself. All the pain. All the self loathing, you'll still be here. And it'll be a beautiful day once you finally see yourself for who you are. There is someone who loves each of us. All you have to do is see what they see.  & If you think no one loves you, well fuck it. Ella loves you.  No bullshit, I promise. I know this sounds corny, but forreal, fuck the world. There was once atime when I felt alone and abandonded but I'm living better now. YSL lipstick now. So I'm not sure how much validity the world actually holds. You've got to stop listening to the world and listen to you. That way you are responsible for everything that occurs, whether good or bad. No "Thank Mom" or "Thank God", no... Thank Me. Life is tough. Tougher than some people know. Tough enough to make me the most religious atheist on the block. I'm religiously on my side. I don't let anyone put me down or tell me what to do because I have faith in myself. Sometimes, when I asks friends questions I hear their responses and I know why I rarely ask. Sometimes when I'm going through it, I plan to call someone and let all my emotions out but then I realize that I'm here for myself. 

     You can't rely on people. Not for the good and not for the bad. You don't need anyone to help you to the top and you can't help them guide you to your demise. Start loving yourself. Trusting yourself. Believing that you will make the right decision. And if it fucks up in the end, oh well. Try again. Tomorrow is another day. I hope... nowI know, that one day, you'll get where I am. In a place where you can appreciate and love yourself enough to accept you for you. That day, you'll realize that everyone else should love you for you, too. And that's why I'm selfish. That's why I'm self-absorbed and needy. Because I've realized my worth. And if the rest of the world doesn't see it, then they have some straightening out to do. 

I encourage you to feel the same way. 

Hate it or love it, the underdog's on top.