A Lot of Rage
Hey guys… it’s been a while since I was active here. I’m not sure exactly how this piece is gonna turn out, and it’s liable to be somewhat atypical to my previous posts. One of the generational traumas that I contend with is poverty, and it’s probably the only one that ever made me consider self-deletion. That isn’t the case now, but over the past 2 months, my finances and situations/decisions based on my finances have sparked an increasing degree of rage and self-loathing.
I’ve spoken about my relocation from Chicago to Georgia and how it has been less than favorable. It was not only inspired by fear, but it led to a profuse downgrade in almost every aspect of my quality of life. If I was someone who could find a way to blame outside circumstances for the situation, I might be less enraged. But I know that this course of events was self-engineered, and dammit… it was well-crafted. Being able to see the ways I craft these problems is a gift, but it always is after the fact. And I try to be kind to myself, but in doing so, I feel like I pay for it with more conundrums.
I feel like I should be happy with things on the horizon. I got accepted into the scholarship program for Breath Masters Certification. I’m supposed to be receiving a $30K CoVID tax credit. But in the same vein, I can’t pay my damn deposit for the Breath Masters Certification, and I’m constantly borrowing money just to obtain diabetes supplies. The IRS somehow fumbled my tax return processing, and all I can think is, “Bro, how in the hell did you gum it up this BAD?!”
I gotta find a different way to do things. Maybe a completely fast from not only food, but social media and the normative world as a whole. Honestly I don’t know what to do but this… this ain’t it 🤷🏿‍♂️🤷🏿‍♂️🤷🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️
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Enoch Abraham
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A Lot of Rage
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