Since this is still a blog--Happy 7th Birthday, bloggy!--I’m reposting some of my recent, more cathartic status updates from elsewhere. Pretty self-explanatory and pressure-inspired release of pent-up feelings, mostly:
Tired of being exposed to stuff by inexplicably successful, overrated people.
In many ways, my life now is like school—some people ignore me; I find the suck-ups, bullies and know-it-alls infuriating; too few people know my worth. But I’m much smarter now and I can make money. I know my place. I know myself. I know what I can do, and I know damn well what I still want to do.
Stressing over deadlines. But I can do this. I can do this. I’m Oliver f*cking Pulumbarit.
Was looking at my old blog entries and found something I wrote about my former editor Louie Camino, whose 7th death anniversary is tomorrow, Feb. 16. I’m forever grateful to the guy; he gave me the opportunity to write for the paper almost ten years ago. He gave valuable advice. He reminded me early on that I should be more observant, more precise, and not be a shill for anyone. He told me that he was proud of me, eventually.
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