When I was in the midst of one of my low points of my latest funk, I was sitting there in my room feeling crappy and alone and helpless and that my life was shit and going nowhere, and there was a part of me the felt like perhaps some tears were necessary. I was by myself and there would be no shame in shedding tears in front of nobody, and frankly I thought that it might be therapeutic or something like that. So I’m sitting there, and trying to manipulate my emotions to where I’d be sad enough for the faucets to start dripping.
They didn’t. They never came.
A long time ago, when I was like 14 or 15, I was pretty involved with my church. Obviously it all changed when I got my driver’s license, became disenchanted with the bullshit hypocrisy of the people I went to church with, and grew tired of how superficial and petty people were in a place where acceptance was quite literally preached.