Even if you’re an emotional bougie little hoodrat like me. You never need the validation of others to respect yourself. Self-respect is called self-respect for a reason. And never see yourself as someone lesser than anyone else, because you’re not, in any way. Look, I’ll keep it simple: try loving yourself, loving the fact that you are alive, hell – loving life period. It’s a profound statement, one that deserves serious thought and introspection. Someone told me something that I hold dear to my heart: he who knows, but does not do, does not know. So instead of just hearing them and nodding sagely like you understand what they really mean, try truly understanding them. People throw around the words life is precious like it’s some sort of trendy mantra, but those are serious, heavy words. It’s also fleeting, something so many people take for granted until it’s at risk – or until someone they love loses theirs. Not caring about yourself to the point where you not only see yourself as someone that should live like that but are comfortable living like that as well.Ī life is a precious thing, people. Instead of figuring out how to take care of your most basic of needs, you made an active decision not to, and This means to get (and stay) in that state means two things are happening: No one has to live like that, especially not in Dallas.

Which is how I know that there are so many ways a person can help themselves. I’m still friends with several homeless today, and the lessons I learned on the streets I carry with me / apply in nearly everything I do. I understand it, and I know what kind of programs exist out there for both men and women (especially in Dallas, where we were) to prevent people from degenerating like that.

At one point in my life (and for several years), I’ve been homeless. He got off abruptly at his stop, and the second he did, everyone started talking smack. A homeless man slumped in his seat, looking to be completely unconscious, wearing raggedy soiled clothes and a nearly visible disgusting odor surrounding him. I was trying to ignore it, focusing on instead flushing out a quick, err, Quickies story while simultaneously drafting out my next Patreon post (see what I did?! I snuck in two plugs there!) until I finally had enough and decided to look around for the source of the stench.Įveryone was already staring at him.

She was completely oblivious of everything, as usual, while I was damn near dying over an intense smell of putridness that seemed to hang in the air. So Anne and I were out the other day running errands, risking our lives by riding public transit as bougie bitches like us are wont to do.

Erotic Pulp Volume 1 by Callie Press