Andee the Sad Boy (Parts One and Two)

Pt. i

I love Portland, but she’s sure been a bitch lately.

Or maybe I’m the bitch.

Or maybe we both have strong personalities and just need some space right now.

All I know is I’d rather be a sad boy working on a farm in Illinois than a sad boy making you a latte somewhere that pays me shit to manage their shop. (I’m not hip enough to barista at a coffee shop that treats me well in Portland.)

Pt. ii

My thoughts, feelings, and body are a source of strength. I intend to celebrate them, not wrangle them into submission.

The other day I was reading Wildwood and eating cherries. I normally read classics or books about spirituality; big, important books. Books that make you smart or balanced or cultured.

In that moment, a bag of cherries and a YA adventure novel with whimsical illustrations filled a place in my soul that Tolstoy or Thich Nhat Hanh or Rumi or bell hooks or any passage of the bible couldn’t have.

 

(13:03 {but also pleez listen to the whole thing it’s the shit.})

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