There are some things that
have been running through my head for a long while now, and most
folks seem entertained by what runs through my head. This may be
informative, then again, it might not be. Some people don't seem to
get it. So, let me get started on what I feel like saying. Chances
are some of this is going to get me in trouble...but I'm okay with
that. Otherwise, I wouldn't write it and make it public knowledge.
First, no one picks up the
phone any more...they text. I've even caught myself doing it. I
really don't like that. If I call you, it's because I want to hear
your voice and/or I want you to hear mine. I don't want to have to
figure out how to place inflection on what I'm typing. Honestly, in
the grand scheme of things, this is probably completely unimportant.
But, it needs to be said, and it's my blog, and I can say whatever I
damn well please.
Second, I do not conduct
business on Facebook. Yeah, the whole world uses social media for
blah blah blah, and I might ruin chances of making money because
blahblahblah.
I don't give a rat's ass.
Facebook is my personal
life. If I post something about where I'm DJing, it's not business.
It may seem like it, but the truth is, I'm giving you another
option of something to do, and telling you where I'm going to be. You
know, in case you haven't seen me in a while and want to. Or just so
you don't have to go to a place with another crappy DJ. You could
come see THIS crappy DJ! I have a business page, and I use it for –
you guessed it – BUSINESS!!!!! What I say or do on Facebook,
Twitter, or any other social media platform is my personal life, and
will be treated as such. I have an email address. That's what it's
for. Therefore, if you send me a message on Facebook about a price
quote, a charity event, or anything having to do with business, it
will go unanswered, or I will send you a little nastygram back.
Facebook = personal life. Get it? This goes DOUBLY for people
constantly asking me to like their business, or strings of
businesses, or whatever. (It's actually reason number one why I wrote
this section.) This is a last warning before removing your ass
altogether. I don't care who you are, or what you think. PERIOD.
(That means it's not up for discussion, so don't bring it up.)
Next, in case you hadn't
noticed, my name is spelled V-I-N-N-Y. If you can't get that right,
then find something else to call me. A nickname, shorten it up, full
name, last name, whatever. I'll even answer to “asshole” if you
want, just stop misspelling my name. And while we're on the subject
of names...
My last name is “Gonzalez” - not Smith, Jones, or some
other Caucasian-based variety. Prepare to be shocked: I am not white.
I may “look white,” I may even “sound white” to some of you,
but rest assured, I am not. And this isn't a race thing, because I
love white people. So when you make your little racist jokes and I
hear them and chuckle a little, it's a nervous laugh. Because I DON'T
LIKE THAT SHIT. When you say things about my heritage, it rattles me
to the very core. Puerto Ricans are very proud of our heritage –
like all Hispanics WE don't think it's funny when you call us
something else facetiously. You might think it's funny to make jokes
and push the issue of whatever-the-hell you feel like saying about my
ethnic origin – I'm telling you it's not funny, and I'm not going to
stand for it any more. So shut your mouth before you even think of
opening it.
Next, and please prepare
yourself...chances are, you are not my friend. You might even be
reading this and thinking, “Well, this part isn't for me.”
Ha ha.
That's what you think.
Have I called you and told you about a serious
problem I'm having, and ask you if we can just hang out because I
need a friend? Have you asked this of me? I probably dropped
everything and came running, right? Now, ask yourself this – would
you have done the same for me? Did you do the same for me? Yeah,
that's right. That shit just hit you, didn't it? That time I called
you, didn't leave a voicemail, and you didn't pick up the phone and
didn't call back at your earliest convenience? That was the point
when you let me
know that you weren't really my
friend – but were damn sure willing to say I was yours. Jesus said
turn the other cheek, he didn't say that I had to be in the room for
you to strike me in the first place. And believe me, there are quite
a few people that I allowed to strike me more than once.
Everything
that was written up to this point needs no opinion – it's simply a
statement of fact or feeling – neither of which requires your
thought pattern. If it pisses you off, you probably should have
thought about that in the first place. I really thought I was done
with childish bullshit at one point before, but I realize that as
long as I allow childish people to act childish in my presence, I am
bringing it upon myself. I acknowledge that I have, in fact, allowed
people to lie to me, manipulate me, and make me do things that I
really don't want to do. I drop everything to bend over backwards and
walk through fire to be lied to, or misled. I don't want to allow
this to happen to me anymore. Therefore, I am resolving myself to no
longer allow it. It has come time for me to allow my type-A
personality to show through in all aspects of my life. I'm not happy
with MYSELF as a result of all the bullshit I have put up with. It
dawned on me today that I have hated myself since I was about 10
years old – and that
little ditty came up without me even thinking about it. I just said
it out loud while I was talking to my mother. I spent the next few
hours really mulling over that
little brain ninja, and that was some serious reflection time. I hate
myself. I have for about 25 years now. Is there a support group for
that?
Hi,
my name is Vinny, and I hate myself.
So,
if you're not happy with yourself, change it, right?
I
sincerely wish you the best in discovering which part of this applies
to you, if at all. Because if that's all you're thinking about, then
you just missed the fact that I – *publicly*
– admitted that the entire time you have known me, I have hated
myself. And you're worried about you, right? GTFOH. Seriously.
