[Sober Living] Everyone’s a Hustler

I’m drowning in this feeling of hopelessness. To fully consider an event and the circumstances around it is to live with this dread and panic that not everyone in life is acting with your best intentions. As much as I’ve wanted to think about how my childhood with a difficult compulsory education, where I have no friends from elementary through high school, made me ready to protect myself against betrayal, it really hasn’t. Oh well…?

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[Sober Living] Path of Redemption

“Don’t go to the dark side.” “I’ve been there. It’s not really fun. I’ve been trying my best ever since to not go back[1,2].” Since becoming sober nearly 5 years ago, most of my actions have been about making the world a better place. I’ll act selfishly sometimes to avoid going back to the dark side, otherwise, my actions mostly center around helping others: acting without judgement, lending a hand, or even just not being shitty.

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[Sober Living] Thrifting As Therapy

“What did that [overhead announcement] mean? It sounded cool!” “It meant [basically] in 30 minutes, all hands on deck[1,2].” Coming up on 5 years ago, I was just bumming around in life, and ended up working at a thrift store for the hell of it. While looking for new junk is my primary reason for going, I also like going to remind myself of the times I hopped into gnarly trailers full of donations to salvage rarities.

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[Fiction Practice] Returning Back Home

“What was that, Float?”
“Let’s race there!”
The two childhood friends already drove through hours of forest to arrive at that rest stop. They could see hints of their destination, still over two hours away, through the mountains. The suited man driving a white sports car revved his engine before the stylish man revved his red muscle car louder.
“How about to the next rest stop, Quest?”
“Yeah, no harm in pushing it… a little.”

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[Fiction Practice] Returning Lost Wallet

“What’s that, Float?”
“Let’s go see.”
The two friends skated through the college parking lot to a small rectangular object they saw while lounging around between classes. The obscured teacher’s parking area was empty except for trees, the two part-time students, and the worn leather object. The fitter of the two arrived first, grabbed the object, and started investigation before the lankier one arrived.
“That’s someone’s wallet, Quest.”
“Yeah, I’m just lookin’ inside for… ID.”

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