Well, it is Facebook official. My brother has officially decided he no longer wishes to be Facebook friendly with me; he wants complete separation. According to my mother, he doesn't want to see me in the future. He sees me as a threat.
Trying to explain this situation as the best she can through her Christian-based lens, applying as much fundamentalism as possible.
Keeps going to the first time I watched Porn in NC as the pivotal moment where I became corrupted. That's a pity. She still dives into her opium, fundamentalism, in order to cope with the stress of this situation. That's fine, I will dive into this, writing as my coping mechanism.
Is worried about me, thinks suicidal thoughts will slowly return especially if the risks ahead of me turn unfavorable.
This is a shame because he isn't seeing everything as opportunities for me to grow. Time alone has helped me thus far Getting away from DC has helped me thus far. Finding myself has helped me thus far. Fighting the AI restriction bots has helped me thus far. The song, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger comes to mind.
Say the least ideal situation occurs, say I can no longer continue my formal education. This simply gives me more time at home to learn how to code and write more and slowly accrue wealth. Yeah, I know I have heaps of financial irresponsibility I need to work off, but so does almost every person my age this day and age. Welcome to the 21st century. This is where education is over priced and student debt forces people to make irresponsible decisions.
From day 1 of 2017, I said this would be my #ComeUpSeason I thought it would be my financial come up, but that came crashing. I thought it would be my independent come up, but that came crashing. I thought it would be my come up in regards to my relationship, but that also came crashing.
What didn't crash? My strength and dedication to search for newer experiences, roam the world, improve society, and most importantly my dedication to the #MarchForTruth. I know, hashtag it and it suddenly becomes meaningless, right? It becomes a meme and we are living in an era where everything is a meme and thus nothing holds meaning. This is why I hashtag it so that it holds the meaning within the irony of the absence of meaning.
What is #MarchForTruth for me? Is it my shot to take down the White House? Is it my big break into journalism? Is it my path towards self-discovery? Is it all of the above? Is it none? It is Opportunity knocking. It is the opportunity to say to hell with a life of trying to cover up hidden skeletons and demand open transparency through example. If I can be open about the sick disgusting violent forms of filth I use to entertain myself to, then not be stigmatized because of it, then I can demand that those holding power do the same action with their privileges.
I finally got my Bitshares account fixed, I'm meeting new people, and I am learning the tools to be able to advance my opportunities within our community here. If I have the privilege to go back to school, I will have to slow down this life in exchange for shifting priorities to education; I will likely Facebook Live Stream my work unless SteemIt has a video streaming up and running.
You know who didn't unfriend me? Someone I respect highly. Someone I hope to come back swinging with a new face, new goal, and next time I see him, fully loaded with professionalism to give him a stern thank you for giving me the opportunity to work. I am 21 years old. I have 79 more years to work hard, meet new people, experience new things and write my heart away.
If we accept the notion that all things happen for a grander purpose from G-D, as my mother will try to find within her fundamentalist scripture, this summer has given me the purpose to look into a sober mirror and evaluate myself. Evaluate my life. Evaluate my goals. Evaluate my purpose in the universe.
I can honestly say that this summer has been surprisingly developmental for me. I was able to reconnect with an old friend, lover, and harsh enemy. Since when would I ever conceive the notion of that? I never wanted to think of her again. Locked in my memory as a long lost hated moment of my life, I knew I never wanted to revisit the experiences. Time passed, I healed, I grew, and I learned to move on.
Returning to my brother, does it make me sad that he doesn't want to be involved in my life? Sort of. It is the best for him, though. The further he is distanced from me, the fewer risks he earns from being my brother. This will help him in his career path. He doesn't need a brother like me disgracing his name. Disgracing his opportunities. I will certainly miss his wedding but that is life.
