404 file not found

my brain every time I go to write

To the masses of you who take the time to read my award winning blog, you are well aware that my subject matter revolves around a central theme: STRUGGLE.

I don’t have a doctorate (or a masters degree for that mater), I have not written the next great novel, and I am not in conversation for the next Nobel Peace Prize. When I fill out a resume, I still find myself being pretty proud of that “proficient in Microsoft Word, Excell, AND PowerPoint” caption. My accomplishments leave much to be desired so you could say I’m kind of a big deal.

In actuality, I have no credentials that are going to land me a corner office at a major corporation, let alone garner a cult following through my blog by spewing rhetorical psychobabble vomit all over the WordPress page. I have 68 followers on IG and 69 Facebook friends (giggity! giggity!). I get nervous when talking on the phone to customers at my job. I love the smell of new sneakers, and I find cat videos are a great form of therapy. I say this all to illustrate the point that I am just a regular dude in an irregular world, trying to trying to make sense of life. So why on earth would anyone want to listen to me?! If anything I am just hoping that in a world polluted with click bait and instafamous “celebrities” that it’s an element of authenticity that is appealing.
I think it is a reasonable assumption that everyone has been through some shit. For some, the shit could be rabbit like, for others maybe a bit more Citgo gas station that requires a key attached to a 12″ piece of pvc pipe; ultimately it is still stinky shit. In no way is mine any more or less important than the next persons, but it serves a purpose (or so I hope).


“Authenticity is your most precious commodity as a leader.”

Marcus Buckingham

If you’re a human being capable of reading this, you have probably encountered the error “404 – file not found”. It’s a computers way of saying “I know what you mean, but I have no clue how to help you.” This is pretty much the message my brain sends to me every time I sit down to write. For some reason I have this notion that every time I write, I am going to have something amazing to say only to encounter a gargantuan mental DeRp! I have yet to figure out why this is…but it be like that sometimes. So here I go again on my own, going down the only road I’ve ever known (DUN! DUN! DUN!) I wouldn’t consider myself a drifter whom was born with the sole purpose of walking alone. However, I have made up my mind that I ain’t wasting no more time.

If you have never jammed out to “Here I go again” by Whitesnake, you need to come out from underneath the rock you are living under and go do it now…DO IT LOUDLY!

At this point there is an irony bestowed upon me: I am struggling to write something coherent about the topic of struggle. I am beyond annoyed, but this is the purification process I suppose. I had a goal in mind…and it had nothing to do with Whitesnake, yet here we are. I am at work, spitting sunflower seeds into a tall plastic cup, wondering why I even bothered writing this today.

404 – file not found…once again.