Quit Complaining.

Please stop barkin’ up a storm about how terrible your life is. Seriously.

As our society has become more complacent and crookedly reliable on the government, knee-jerk reaction to point the phony finger with overflowing blame for one’s own trials and tribulations is as socially accepted as corrupt politicians stuffing fluoride in your filthy toothpaste and genetically modifying your chemically enriched dinner.

Humans are socially conditioned to activate their people-pleasing tendencies in fear of being perceived as the bearer of ‘bad news’. You are terrified of the world and the so-called repercussions of your choices. You wake up and coat your glycerin-induced pills with sugar because you cannot swallow the raw truth. You invest time into giving a rat’s ass when a television show you enjoyed was delayed while another ballsy keyboard warrior complains about their muffin top and how much their life generally sucks. You bitch and moan about men kicking around a ball composed of polyester and safeguard your existence by hiding in a star-crossed, dispassionate pit of your own self-absorbed making and perpetually distract yourself from the meat and potatoes demanding your time, thoughts and energy.

This blows my fucking mind. I am not your psychologist, but I do perceive that if you continue to choose the sprinkled donuts at the social gathering you did not want to attend after you announced your bubbling muffin-top and insecurities all over social media, you will indeed contrarily blossom for spring. Do not complain about the results that ensue. You created them. It is not the donut’s fault. It is your fault.

All of the rubbish that people-pleasers love to fluff individuals up with is unnecessary and the most amount of gripe in this catchpenny soft soap is only generated for yourself. Humans avoid conflict and constructive criticism by appearing compliant and congenial while ultimately eroding their sense of self at the service of inflating another. The more candy-coated interactions you create, the more of a spineless spectator who waits for another individual to take action you become. You stroke a bellyachers hair and whisper softly that they’ll feel better in the morning when in all reality, if they continue to lay their overweight ass on the dented sofa and stuff their garbage disposal with Doritos, they will not feel better. Period.

I am utterly done being a people-pleaser. I do not sugarcoat a damn thing. Spare me. I have zero sympathy for you and your hot water. I have spent years desperately twisting myself into a pretzel aiming to meet others expectations. I was a paralyzed pushover who would walk over hot coals for peace at any price. I was weak, powerless and increasingly unable to express myself while subconsciously playing the role of the “Good Cop” and masking my true intentions. I created a cowardly pit of self-induced wretchedness in which I blamed the moon for not being able to reach my phone charger after comfortably situating myself in bed. I allowed humans to stomp all over my yard with their dirty feet. I diluted the importance of digesting the meat and potatoes and creating a renewed commitment to my life. It was exhausting. It was pathetic. It had to stop.


Do not glorify your self-inflicted headaches as an excuse for your desolation and idleness. Get your hands dirty and hop off of the pity train. Quit grumbling about how life is not presented to you on a silver platter. Are you so important that the world is required to bow at your delicate feet? Take any necessary action toward ending the whimsical wishing, dreary disappointment and pining distress and lay the foundation for self-respect.

Every single individual in this world is challenged by difficulties. Your perceived alienation, disharmony, injustice, and melodrama cannot be reversed without sacrifice and action. Nobody gives a fuck about your whiny hogwash. The can of worms is that you are under the fallible belief that the rest of the world ought to care and change its impression to accommodate your inner self. I am living my own life that is not affected by you. You are responsible for yourself.

Stand the fuck up for your life. Embrace your inner bitch. Stop framing your character and amour-propre around your social media “news” feed and pixellated pity cabin. Stop seeking justification from feeble-minded pigeons and make a choice to create the space to develop your own voice. Wear whatever the fuck you want. Learn to state a firm “no” to another joyless drunken night at the local dive bar with the same people sharing the same jabber over shots of sorrow. Face the uncut truth of your life, rub reality in your face, challenge yourself and quit complaining. You are not a victim and the universe does not owe you a damn thing, suga.

Tick, tock….there goes your biological clock. Quit your bitchin’ and change your life.