I’ve never understood why people would want to live in a utopian society where everything is the same. I want to live a colorful existence, even if it means having an intimate awareness about the dystopic nature of what is actually going on around me.

I’ve heard plenty of people say “life is what you make of it”. I feel like the same can be said about death. I’ve been to four funerals and felt very different at each one of them. How we remember those who have passed on is often a function of how we remembered them when…

Everybody bleeds. Everybody dies. Life is a biathalon of bootlicking and one-uppery. Whoever inflicts the most pain onto others while retaining the least resistance rides high without regard to the lifeforce of the others. The human experience is a textbook example of inhumanity. I was raised by wolves and sharpened by the wisdom of generations…