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Mandyland Math (An Essay)

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Right now new math is swirling around the internet.

There’s boy math.

Girl math.

Even gay math.

So here’s some Mandyland Math:

1. The less you care, the more you love.

2. What’s in line with the being feels out of line to the human.

3. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING (especially every so-called ‘bad’ thing), makes you more, regardless of what you’ve ‘lost’.

4. You gotta go where it hurts to feel better.

5. The saner you are, the more insane you (and they) appear.

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Don't Touch Their Shit (An Essay)

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People don’t shit on my posts.

But I often see people shitting on other people’s posts.

And people responding to said shit.

Engaging with said shit.

Thereby creating even more shit.

But here’s the thing:

You don’t have to touch another person’s shit.

Ever.

You can actually just let the person sit in their shit.

You can refuse to partake in their self-created shit show.

And when their thrown-about shit has nowhere to stick,

it lands exactly where it belongs.

With the shit disturber themself.

Who is now being confronted with their shit that wouldn’t stick.

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The Other Is Not My Business (An Essay)

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There was a period of time when I found it invigorating, even fascinating, to read the ideas, and witness the evolutions, of others on social media.

Eventually, that ceased to be the case.

Not because the others had changed.

But I had.

I fell even deeper into myself and the rest just felt like noise.

So I stopped observing said noise and got quieter within.

More still, more sure, more pure, more me.

The other is not my business.

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When Your System Says NAH But You Do It Anyway (An Essay)

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When I post incessantly, it’s true.

When I barely post, it’s true.

When I go to the party, it’s true.

When I leave halfway through, it’s true.

When I talk to a friend daily, it’s true.

When we don’t talk for months, it’s true.

No matter how inconsistent it looks in the physical,

it remains consistent in the non-physical.

The moves I make or don’t make, are true.

And…

The only reason a person refrains from expressing what they want to as often as they want to (publicly or not),

or posts when they’d rather be offline,

or stays when they’d rather leave,

or calls / picks up despite not wanting to talk at all,

or anything else that makes their system go NAH (while they ignore the cue and carry on anyway),

is because something or someone matters more to them,

than being the living truth.

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It's You Choosing; Not Them (An Essay)

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If I waited for other people to want to go out when I want to go out and to want to do the kinds of things I love to do, I’d never go out and do those things and my life would be boring as fuck.

If I cared what anyone thought about what I post / think / do, I’d never share myself as freely as I do online.

If I believed that after a ‘certain age’ I should or shouldn’t (fill in the blank), I wouldn’t live as I’m meant to live.

My life can only ever be lived and experienced by me.

I’m fully in charge of every single moment and part of it.

Which has absolutely nothing to do with anyone else.

Ever.

Same is true for you.

The people in your world can’t live your life or make your decisions and they certainly aren’t the least bit responsible for whatever the fuck you choose and experience.

That’s all on you.

You might use others to justify not living as fully and freely as you’d like,

to surrender to a sedated half-life,

but it’s you choosing that; not them.

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Facebook Cocktail (An Essay)

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The difference between how you and I experience my Facebook page:

You: Scroll through one day of posts and can’t believe how much there is.

Me: Scrolls through one day of posts and can’t believe that was only yesterday because it feels like a year ago.

By the time I click post, I’ve already left the once-in-a-lifetime cocktail of energy that generated the post in the first place.

It no longer exists.

So then I’m in a new moment with a fresh, new vibe.

And so I post from that one, too.

You see back-to-back posts.

I experience a moment.

Then I move on to the next, unburdened by the last.

And here I am ‘again’ to you.

But for me, it’s all brand new.

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