I don’t live for your applause.
Rotten Currency: The Bankruptcy of Approval
You want to know what I think about other people’s opinions of me? I rank them somewhere between clickbait astrology and lukewarm gas station coffee—tolerable in a pinch, but never worth swallowing.
Let’s get one thing straight: I’m not here to be liked. I’m not building a brand, I’m lighting brushfires. This isn’t a TED Talk with a side of smug applause. This is a fuck-you manifesto wrapped in barbwire and gasoline. And if that makes you uncomfortable? Good. That means your bubble just popped.
Other people’s opinions? They’re the currency of cowards. A social credit score built by people too terrified to live without external validation. They trade authenticity for clout, like rats bartering cheese in a burning ship. If you’re living your life by committee, congratulations—you’ve become a marionette with Wi-Fi.
The Cult of Niceness and Other Lies
Too many folks confuse silence with civility and offense with injustice. They think their disapproval is some divine indictment, as if I’ll fold under the glare of their judgment like wet origami. But I’m not in this for claps, likes, or LinkedIn endorsements. I’m in this to say what needs saying, even if it burns bridges, temples, or your grandma’s prayer circle.
If your opinion of me is shaped by my refusal to conform, then you’re not forming an opinion—you’re revealing your programming. Because most people aren’t thinking. They’re echoing. They’re parrots in panic, squawking whatever the algorithm tells them will get them a pat on the back.
I don’t do small talk. I don’t do safe spaces for egos. I do truth—with teeth.
This Life Is Mine. Get Your Hands Off It.
You don’t get to tell me who I am. That job’s already taken—by me. You can love me, hate me, misquote me, or block me. I still wake up the same snarling bastard with a spine full of iron and a compass pointed dead south of polite society.
I’m not molding myself to fit your comfort zone. Comfort is where dreams go to choke. I want friction. I want reality. And reality doesn’t give a damn about your curated feed of curated feelings.
So if you think I’m too harsh? Too loud? Too proud? Then maybe I’m exactly what this world needs—an unapologetic bootprint on the face of complacency.
Your Approval Is Not Liberation
Here’s the truth most can’t stomach: If you spend your life shaping yourself into someone else’s version of “acceptable,” you’ll die as nothing more than a cautionary tale with good manners.
Stop asking who approves of you. Ask instead—do I approve of me?
That’s the only voice that should echo in your skull at 3AM when the lies stop working.
Don’t Want Your Applause—Just the Space to Roar
I don’t need your applause, your permission, or your pearls of wisdom. I’ve got my own damn voice. And it doesn’t whisper—it roars.
Embrace who you are. Live your best possible life. Conquer your perceived world.
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