Yeah, the feeling you got when you first read that was probably a fraction as intense as the feeling I got when I first saw a post with that headline.

Mortified. Confused. Curious in every direction imaginable and damned if I didn't click to see what could possibly be up.

That was the old me, anyway. The naive me. The one who thought good deeds went unpunished. The one who didn't really think of what I was doing as much of a good deed, just a chance to voice my thoughts on things that affected people in situations like the ones I encountered. My daily to-do felt as normal and harmless as waking up, stretching, and brushing my teeth. The thought that I could be somehow "exposed" for doing that was the most vulnerable I'd felt since I lost my virginity to a self-proclaimed "hoe" without a condom. (Insert shaking head and face palm on my behalf)

If you're wondering, no. This is not some juicy gossip blog about something I've been doing behind the scenes that could ruin me despite so many growing to love me for what will soon turn out to be one big fat lie. This is about people's die-hard infatuation with that possibility that seems to sell more than some with a genuine passion for what they do who has to nerve to stand for something that could possibly make some people feel upset. 

Why? Like, no seriously. Why? Why is it we'd rather talk about Jay Z's alleged illuminatti affiliations, or Beyonce's fake baby she carried, or Drake's stolen lyrics as opposed to simply supporting people being great at what they do until we have concrete proof to hold them accountable for? Why is it that one rumor can help tarnish a decade of body of work? I don't know the answers to those questions, but I do know one thing. If you're on a mission to be more than average and impact more than a few, get ready because your time is coming.

One goal at a time, you'll find yourself achieving your dreams that you set out for long before anyone had a clue(gave a sh*t) about what you were doing, when you had no support but the pillow you cried into at nights you felt like a complete failure. You'll be inundated with people you're inspiring and the increasing potential that exceeds everything you ever imagined. Then you'll look through the crowd and see a few crouched down at the very end of your ship drilling holes, trying to recruit help, hoping that just one of them can sink your ship. And you'll be tasked with either stopping them at all costs, or continuing to steer your ship so that it reaches its destination.

I made the decision to continue on steering my ship, but I noticed the holes as well, just like any human would. Whether I'm just one lucky ass intellectual thief that made it off a t-shirt I didn't originate, a man who claims to love women but secretly loves men, or a guy who says things just to get p*ssy(Hey, I never said hole drillers were consistent with their lies), I've noticed them. But more importantly, I notice the drillers and question why they'd ever want to sink a ship like mine when every one on board is headed somewhere so beautiful that even they are invited to come as well.

I guess we'll never know. But as a wise man once said, "These days, if they don't have a story, they'll make one."


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