Family
The Most Important Meal of the Day
"The girls have, what I like to call, 'dick envy.'" I hear this time and time again, but how would you explain the first twelve years of my life. Raised by women, the man I was expected to become was different from the man men in my family attempted to mold me into. As a child, I was very sensitive and emotional, never feminine, but more in touch with my inner feelings. Amongst women, that was ok, but when surrounded by the men in my family, crying was a sign of weakness. Thinking that they were what I had to become, it felt like an obligation to learn to hide my feelings, and show no weakness, but at home, with the girls no one fought their feelings. If we wanted to cry because it hurt when we slammed our finger, or just because we were offended by what someone said, then we'd fucking cry. Plus at home, there was no competition, so the feelings were mostly positive anyway. As I grew older, and girls lost their cooties, and my eyes finally dried up, and finally my uncles could relate to me, I began to see that becoming a man does not have a clear definition. 'The girls' would want me to work hard in school, keep my eyes on the prize, and stay driven. Society wanted me to collapse, succumb to the drugs, the violence. Society made itself the most appealing, but the influence from 'the girls' kept me on a somewhat steady path. When I finally had experience under my belt, pun intended, my uncles and I would talk more, swap stories, and it was clear what being a man was to them. "Fuck as many girls as you can while you're still young, and never get married." Well, obviously. "Everybody does a little dirt, its part of life. As long as you don’t get carried away." Sound advice and probably the most realistic. Everyone fucks up, lord knows I already have, but it's what you take from the experience that makes the man.
By Mike Ortega4 years ago in Confessions
Did You Hear That?
No one has ever accused me of being one hundred percent normal. Even as a child, I was a little on the strange side. My parents noticed as did my maternal grandmother. While I’m not totally positive when it started, I was aware of being “different” when I was six years old. The year was 1953.
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Confessions
Torch the Poet
Allow me to introduce to you Mr. Torch the Poet of THE C.R.O.W. SHOW™️! Very interesting gentleman to say the least. Bumped into him on Twitter and have been intrigued ever since. I decided to breakdown a few of his Podcast’s episodes and share why I think this dude is so cool.
By The Vibe Podcast 4 years ago in Confessions
Leaving from PARO
Everyone used to describe her as a lotus in a swarm. Lotuses die soon; they die in that swarm. She did not associate herself with that lotus. She did not connect her life with that of a multitude. She never has and never will accept that kind of death. You cannot tame a physical body when the conscious is the rebel.
By Eksaahir4 years ago in Confessions
Romance is a lie.
It starts hot and heavy every relationship once hitting the intimate stage but after awhile the sex slows and life takes over. At least that's what I have experienced over my 15 years of marriage. We use to find every excuse in the book. Like sneaking off into the bathroom or smashing it up in the kitchen. Those where the hottest of times. However after having five kids the want and desire let alone the time to make the intimate moments happen. Now do not get me wrong we attempted to make time for the quick moments but it is never the same.
By Heather Rose Pfeiffer4 years ago in Confessions
The Unfavorite
I don’t think that I was ever my parents’ favorite child. It’s not like they didn’t love me, but they just never loved me quite as much as my brother. It’s something that I’ve noticed all my life. I also feel like other family members noticed it, too, they just never said anything directly to my parents about it. Whether it would be a comment on how my mom “babied” my younger brother, or other relatives going the extra mile for me, specifically. I’ve especially noticed it now as an adult, since my relatives could cut out the middleman, i.e., my parents.
By Elizabeth Vaughn4 years ago in Confessions
