It’s almost as if I used to be something.

Not saying that I am nothing now; it just feels that way. I have never been the most positive of people. My glass is always half empty. Pessimistic. Introverted. It’s a dangerous combination I’ve come up with for myself.

I’m still searching for a job. I feel so useless. Day, after day, sitting here. I fill out application, after application, my only callbacks from the one place I do not want to return to: the restaurant.

I’m not all that sure what is worse, the feeling that I have nothing after Friday’s, or the strange realization that Friday’s had become my everything.

Kind of pathetic. I revolved my life entirely around a job that I fucking hated because of all the money I was making ..

I can’t even remember what my dreams were. Like .. what do I want to be when I grow up?

A fucking server?

What the fuck am I doing? I can’t even answer that question for myself.

I’ve just been having a little trouble holding it together. I don’t know where to start to get it back. 

Who knew things could get so discouraging? Not me. I had absolutely no idea how emotionally draining this all could be.





Get up out my trap house!!!

this is so beautiful

AfroPunk is life


I actually am in love with this.




Singing a song of angry men. It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again. When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes. (These images are not mine. Praying for the people of Ferguson, and praying for justice for the crime against Mike Brown and all the other victims of blatant racism.)


I’ve thought about this so much today. Like so many parallels. Vive la Révolution!

Reblogged from dontbeabrat

Money team bars.