I like pep talks.
I like giving pep talks. If I wasn’t so stupid when it came to sports, I might make a wonderful career as a high school football coach, just to be the guy giving the inspiring-pre-half-time-comeback-speech to the tune of a Beethoven symphony rip-off. (I wonder if I could do that freelance...)
I like giving pep talks. If I wasn’t so stupid when it came to sports, I might make a wonderful career as a high school football coach, just to be the guy giving the inspiring-pre-half-time-comeback-speech to the tune of a Beethoven symphony rip-off. (I wonder if I could do that freelance...)
However, I do give my regular pep talks here, online.
Before
I sit down and write anything for OurBeautifulSelves, I give myself
audience. I imagine that every single insecure individual I’ve ever
known has been magically merged together into one broken, ambiguously
raced/gendered loved one, and I end up spending the next half hour
tweaking together the best literary hug I can.