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    2017-01-18 07:00
    &ldquo;My first tattoo said: &ldquo;I Hate.&rdquo; I tattooed over it a long time ago. I was twenty-one when I got it. It was a very self-destructive period of my life. I&rsquo;d dropped out of college. My girlfriend had just left me for an older guy. I&rsquo;d gotten a Mohawk and was doing a lot of slam dancing. I felt like everyone in the family was disappointed with me. My dad was a very successful attorney. My brother was a diplomat. So I rebelled against everything and decided that I was going to live the whole &lsquo;poetry lifestyle.&rsquo; I lived in the desert for a couple years. Then I came to New York and tried to survive as a poet. I ended up working as a freak in the Coney Island Side Show. But after fifteen years, even that became like any other job. It was the exact same thing every day. Only the audience changed. I still haven&rsquo;t figured out what I was trying to escape. There&rsquo;s no such thing as a true outsider. We all have to breathe. We all have to eat. We all have to work. I wanted to run away from everything but I ran into myself. I&rsquo;m still a middle class, intellectual kid from the suburbs.&rdquo; <br>
    2017-01-17 07:00
    &ldquo;God doesn&rsquo;t answer my prayers like he once did. But he still talks to me. He talks to me through my mind and through my own mouth. He&rsquo;s upset with me because he wanted me to wave at someone on the street and I didn&rsquo;t. So he took away my money and told me to leave my jobs. My family put me in the hospital and they said I was bipolar. But I&rsquo;m not mentally ill. I take the medicine because it&rsquo;s part of the deal for me having my own apartment, but I&rsquo;m not mentally ill. When I&rsquo;ve paid my debt, God is going to transform my voice. He&rsquo;s going to make me a great singer. One night I had a dream that I was singing and something golden fell from the sky. And I caught it so everyone gathered around me. I hope you pray about me and then you&rsquo;ll see the truth. Pray to God and ask him: &lsquo;Is this man honest, or is he mentally ill?&rsquo;&rdquo;<br><br>
    2017-01-14 06:00
    &ldquo;I always thought of kids as being simple in a way. I knew that having a child would be challenging, but I underestimated how complicated their emotions can be. I thought I&rsquo;d have greater influence over my child&rsquo;s mood. I imagined that I&rsquo;d be able to make him happy when he&rsquo;s unhappy. I hoped that I would always have a solution. But you learn quickly that some unhappiness doesn&rsquo;t have a quick fix. And often it&rsquo;s just part of who he is. And that can be painful to accept. Sometimes I just have to provide as much guidance as possible, and trust that he&rsquo;ll find comfort within himself.&rdquo;<a href="https://www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork/photos/a.102107073196735.4429.102099916530784/1550838591656902/?type=3&theater#" target="_blank"><i></i></a><br><br>
    2017-01-11 02:00
    &ldquo;My mom and I have always been close. But we had to learn how to communicate again after my dad died. It took therapy. We&rsquo;d stopped being honest with each other. My dad&rsquo;s illness had been so stressful that we didn&rsquo;t want to create any additional worries. So we tried to protect each other. Neither of us would admit if we were having a bad day. Or if we were feeling depressed. The answer to everything was always: &lsquo;I&rsquo;m fine.&rsquo; But we weren&rsquo;t fine. And it was obvious. So we worried about each other all the time. It caused a lot of stress and arguments. We had to relearn how to admit when we were having a bad day. Because you can never truly know if someone&rsquo;s &lsquo;fine&rsquo; unless you trust them to tell you when something&rsquo;s wrong.&ldquo;<a href="https://www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork/photos/a.102107073196735.4429.102099916530784/1546736828733745/?type=3&theater#" target="_blank"><i></i></a><br><br>
    2017-01-10 06:00
    &ldquo;All the bosses care about is getting the job done. So if you have a good work ethic, the work falls on you more. The bosses know that it&rsquo;s easier to push a good worker than it is to get a bad worker to do their job. It&rsquo;s the path of least resistance. Especially when the boss happens to be friends with the bad workers. It used to really bother me. I couldn&rsquo;t stand the injustice of it. But I&rsquo;ve had to learn to let it go. I was bringing the stress home with me. I&rsquo;d get mad at little things and slam drawers. I was even having rage dreams. I abhor violence, but I was having dreams where the boss would criticize my work and my hands would go around his neck. So I had to learn to let it go. I used to really care about the job. But I&rsquo;ve had to just start viewing it as a paycheck.&rdquo; <br>
    2017-01-10 06:00
    &ldquo;I grew up in the suburbs. I used to think that I could write a prescription for a poor man: &lsquo;Get a job, save your money, pull yourself up by the bootstraps.&rsquo; I don&rsquo;t believe that anymore. I was ignorant to the experiences of poor people. I&rsquo;d invite anyone to come and meet the people who live in this neighborhood. Right now we are surrounded by working poor people. These are the people who sell your tools at Sears, and fix your roofs, and take care of your parents, and mow your lawns, and serve your meals. They&rsquo;re not getting a living wage. There&rsquo;s no money left to save. There&rsquo;s nothing left if they get sick. Nothing left if their car breaks down. And God forbid they make a mistake, because there&rsquo;s nothing left to pay fines or fees. When you&rsquo;re down here, the system will continue to kick dirt in your face. You can&rsquo;t pull yourself up when there&rsquo;s nothing to grab onto. We aren&rsquo;t paying our brothers and sisters enough to live. We want them to serve us, but we aren&rsquo;t serving them.&rdquo; <br>
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