What We Were All About

I have been fortunate enough in my young Jonny life to never have been shattered beyond repair, to a point where I need to be discarded. There have been times when I have been brushed, broken, bleeding...but never shattered. Like most people, I been cursed out, punched in the face, lost loved ones, broke bones, disappointed people. Wait let's go back,

Disappointed, people. Not loved ones or friends or family or the Jons.

People who don't give two cents about Jody and may never speak to Jonny Boy in their entire lives. Someone could accidentally bump into me and be slightly inconvenienced, and I will think about it for at least a few hours. This mayo person, who may glance up and think I'm Kobe Bryant, will more than likely never think about my meat vessel again. Meanwhile Jonathan is talking to Ramona on the phone at 7 pm, discussing this whole scenario.

My old Dean at the school I last worked at told me about how consistent I am with self-analyzing. I'm sure it would be considered "micro" self-analyzing in my case. Imagine working with young prepubescents with their hormones and emotions and Snap-chat stories flooding everywhere and having that mindset? How could a mind work in that environment in 3 years; repeatedly connecting and reconnecting on so many radical and expressive and ever-changing individuals and then being worried when one just slips from your grasp?

People say the phrase to themselves "I don't give a f*uck" but I will side with "I give all the f*cks" about everybody. Always, all the time. I am here to serve, it's my duty to make this world as heaven-like as possible.

But in remembrance that Jon-Jon is a 20-something that is 100% confident in Jonny Boy's incompetence.

Why wouldn't I? Jon and Jody will be okay, they know how much they mean to me. I believe they are the greatest thing since cocoa butter to walk to this Earth. Perpetually adapting and being the best version of me. I will say "I am awesome and amazing and important and vital and beautiful and strong and handsome and happy and blah-blah" because I mean that sh*t, every single day I wake up. I love myself. And my family. And my friends. And the 15 people who read my blog every time I post. And that landlord I threatened.

But if my brain keeps resetting every time someone isn't comfortable or when I mess up, how will I ever grow evenly? How can my planes and bundles of Jon align if I can't stop overthinking every two seconds of everything that has ever happened?

Tune in next week kids!

"Gang Over Luv" by Brent Faiyaz keeps a soulful yet spooky backdrop