I feel like I’m being dragged behind a car by the veins ripped out of my arms. My current pain is novel, cold and biting. I would never have guessed this cocktail of letdowns, short comings and shame would hit so fucking hard. I don’t have the liberty of sharing my situations, but they’re complex and confusing, magnificent and chilling.

So fuck them all. There is nothing in my way anymore. I am untethered by commitment, there are no asshole bosses holding me back, no draining relationships. I have cut back the weeds (but not the weeeeeed, aye!) and i have pulled down the ivy that climbed up my motionless body. The things I let control me, compulsively pushing me away from my own liberation, are dead.

No more unsurety, for now. I know what I want after the last few months have unraveled. I’ve learned what I need to succeed in my career after watching a complete dickhead take my passion for granted. Shit, that’s what damn near happened in my last relationship too. But what these tart bakers don’t seem to get, what professors and managers have tried to ignore and dispel, is that I am indomitable.

To the Dean of Ed at Grace College, I’m going to be an amazing teacher someday, despite the ledge she tried to put up. She was a supportive lady, as educated as anyone I’ve ever met, and she never believed in me. Made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, but those sad sacks o shit at New Haven High School were apparently better than me? Fuck that. Ok I did have some great teachers in my time, but had just as many scumfucks who made me want to be better. Thats a theme for me that I’ve noticed, when I expect greatness from someone, an ex, a boss, a teacher, and they let me down, I respond better. I can show them and inspire them and make them proud because I can be better. You couldn’t handle an 11th grade class? Watch me improve on it. You think your efforts at work are actually paying off? you haven’t seen what I can do behind a bar with this strength, like a new Super Saiyan transformation, I’m a step ahead.

After 28 years of mania, the only thing that can bring me down is me. As surprised as I find myself with new experiences, for example. my most recent breakup hurt worse in different ways than any other before it. a new level of sad. But a more mature, complete Chris. I was unaware how badly and weirdly I could hurt. But now I know. So it won’t happen again. With my career, I’ve seen instances where my damn hard work actually pays dividends that I didn’t expect, and I’ve been in jobs where I work just as hard, but you stay a cog.

There is nothing standing in my way. I struggle with disenchantment and boredom. Im too stoned, too emotionally volatile, too anxious. But I can combat that. I am actively fighting against life, my cancer, the 300 pound twat waffles who think they can intimidate me, like they’re taking something away from me?!. This isn’t a down time in my life. I am not licking my wounds. This is my moment.

I put a buddy in the ground earlier this week, he was 30 and died of cancer complications in about six months, a very similar thing that could probably happen to me. I had to kill a friendship that I wanted to carry to the end of my days, I turned her to ashes, but they will not stay ashes. They have planted their roots in me, and I will carry them into battle. Even in death, we are Diamond Dogs.

I’m not insane. This is my moment. I cast off my chains, and if they come back, I’m strong enough to keep walking tall. We’re going to run this shit like a real G. Do things wholeheartedly, skate better. The people in my corner are incredible, and the ones that are gone won’t be missed for much longer. I’m sorry, but no matter what, Chris Tulley is cool. Fuck em all.