DâLo Brown and The Godfather make their way to the ring for DâLoâs match against X-Pac. Fully Loaded: In Your House July 26, 1998
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@thelonius
DâLo Brown and The Godfather make their way to the ring for DâLoâs match against X-Pac. Fully Loaded: In Your House July 26, 1998

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It's a fucking nightmare out there.
I was telling Andrew this Tuesday: It's really cute that I still have a Tumblr. A perfect time capsule of a particular part of my life. And a damn good one at that. By the tender age of 17, I was committed to the romanticized kayfabe of being a writer: I was sad, had the perfect reason to be sad without it being tragic and weird to be around, and had a close-knit group of friends who all felt destined for greatness. Which in turn meant I had a neat, fun place to really get off some pretty raw (and in hindsight mostly unserious) feelings and online interactions on the new hotness that was Tumblr. I'm confident that the years that followed high school saw a certain level-headed maturity that I think has aged pretty okay. Again, having access to these memories meant I could always check-in. Measure myself against the grand expectations I'd set for myself as time went by. From my first time being swamped with assignments in my intro-level journalism classes, to my first paid gig as a reporter in my hometown. It's all there, through the lens of young optimism that's long been weathered away by lived experience. I didn't grow into being an asshole or anything like that. If anything, it's just become a weird anomaly of a digital footprint that actually managed to be worthwhile. Even in an age where I've mostly fallen out of love with the internet. I lament whatever dumb teenager impulse told me to break with my MySpace. Unfortunately, this is the first time I'm coming back and scrolling through Tumblr (which has had its own ups and downs in its own right) feeling like I'm at a total loss. Somewhere on this page, I remember writing, "if this journalism shit don't work, then we runnin' up in niggas houses." Welp. The gun is cocked. Because the industry is cooked. Not only was I laid off for the second time in 9 months. What followed was me sitting on the sidelines, scrambling for work and plan B's as I watched the rest of the industry crumble before my eyes. Sports Illustrated. Los Angeles Times. Time. Washington Post. Pitchfork. Business Insider. Vox. Vice. Yesterday, the entirety of The Messenger (without giving any of the writers a decent severance or basic heads up). Just today it was the Wall Street Journal.
Morale is low. Industry-wide. I've admittedly spent the last three weeks staring into the abyss, paralyzed by the absolute state of things. The industry I wanted to be part of growing up straight up doesn't exist anymore. And every day that goes by I realize that unless I can write exactly what I want to do, I don't know if I exactly love the direction of not only my industry but what it means to be a journalist. This is a hard reality to come to terms with. After all, it's been part of my identity since the very early era I documented on Tumblr (17!). I also made the Curb Your Enthusiasm-like decision to double down on not only a dying industry but arguably the most maligned subsection of this industry. (I do not regret the masters. But holy shit would I do another track lmao) I've been looking at opportunities and putting off others laying right in front of me in hopes of knowing exactly what I want to do this year. It's terrifying. Not the uncertainty of paying bills or supporting myself. Just not knowing what my specific life goals are, for the very first time in my life. This isn't some manifesto or eulogy to my career. I would happily pick up where I left off earlier this month for the right price. But it's looking bleak and I have very real responsibilities now. The grind of making $25,000 a year, fresh out of college is cute when you can crash at mom's after a long night at the local community board. It's something entirely different to be going on 31, hoping to get the next stage of my life rolling within the next five years. I'm not mad at myself for not seeing this coming until it was happening to me. I don't think anyone's truly ready for such a significant change in their life. Well at least I still have Tumblr.
Well, well, well...
Look who came crawling back.
Wait until you see why God had you wait.
i think about this post dailyÂ

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WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE I AM
When my story gets more than five clicks.
I love my city and I rep it until I fucking die.
Gotham, Vincent Laforet
Beautiful sunset over Manhattan đˇ Noel YC @nyclovesnyc
I miss you my dear.
this is what itâs like having siblings
Accurate
the screech lmfaooo

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âŚ.
So I earned my master's today. And Iâm so glad that I got to share this milestone with not one, but both of my parents. To my mom: I appreciate you more than Iâve probably expressed in the past. You have facilitated every dream Iâve ever had by providing and using your supernatural mom instincts to nudge me in the right direction (and still managed to find the time to party a whole lot in between đ). You are the person I aim to impress and the reason I strive for greatness every time I tell someoneâs story. You are one of the funniest people I know without even trying and have the kind of chaotic honesty that I can only dream of inheriting some day. Though I didnât realize it in my youth, I see now that youâve always been behind the scenes making sure that I not only pushed myself beyond what I thought was possible, but that the stage was set for me to do so when the time was right. You have sacrificed every single day since you left Trinidad to ensure that Dalicia, Cassidy, Chad and I have the ability to make something of ourselves. And for that, I am forever in your debt. To my dad: you are every bit as responsible for my accomplishments and the person Iâve become as I am. You have managed to be the greatest dad a guy could ask for regardless of the circumstances. Some of my earliest memories are of you encouraging me to reach for the stars. You promised to be by my side through it all, and itâs a promise youâve kept for 26 years and counting. You told me that my future was only limited by my imagination, words that have kept me going at my highest of highs and lowest of lows. Youâve been one of my biggest cheerleaders every step of the way. Youâve kept me positive, focused, optimistic and sane for more than two decades without even knowing it. Youâve been a shoulder to lean on, a mentor when I needed guidance, a proud geek before it was cool and one of my best friends from the very start. I love you both so much and I am truly, truly blessed to have you. (at Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism at CUNY) https://www.instagram.com/p/B6CpUx4FLvYA2yFf52ar3AylKavOWsdLwZEsLk0/?igshid=10n6tgfsx50yy
HULK HOGAN We Cominâ for YOUâŚNIGGGA!!! đ¤Ł
22 Years Later
when the serotonin rush from making an impulse purchase wears off and the buyerâs remorse hits

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