I Don't Care about Your Upvotes...I Care If You're Interesting and Decent

(The author, at work...obviously working hard.)

Some people were born to be a part of the cool crowd; I doubt that was ever my lot in life and, the older I get, the less I care about that.

Particularly because, as one ages, one finds their "tribe," the people they jive with on so many levels, they rarely ever need to speak to know what the other is thinking. Quiet spans of roadtrips, drunk late nights, or just sitting on a patio doing whatever it is your particular crew of weirdos does to pass the time.

My life's philosophy has changed over the years; it's morphed and become different shapes, but at its heart resides a simple ethos: I don't care how much money you make. I don't care what you do for a living. I don't care what you look like. I don't care where you come from. The only thing I care about is this: ARE YOU, AT YOUR CORE, A DECENT PERSON?

And, I gotta tell ya...those people are way easier to find the older you get. Mostly because you can smell bullshit a mile away, but also because you're simply less likely to put up with unnecessary nonsense or drama when other, more important, life issues become more prevalent in older age.

But the ones worth keeping? Oh man...if you can find the weird ones and they jive with you, if they tickle your brain and your heart in that perfect way, don't you dare fucking let those people go. Not for all the money or the popularity in the world. Those people are IRREFUCKINGPLACEABLE.

I've been fortunate to have multiple groups of weirdos to which I belong to; my West Coast/San Francisco family (above and below and in the onesies WAY above), my old school/high school family (the photobooth pictures), and my current roadtrip/DJ/festival family (in the car).

The best thing I ever did was shun the mantle of caring what other people thought of me and what I did with the people that I care about. I can look at all three of these groups of people and know without question that, should I ever find myself in a tough spot, every fucking one of those people would come running. Not because they are owed anything by me, not because I hold some kind of sway over them, but because there are bonds deeper than any of that superficial bullshit that cannot be broken.

So find the weirdos in your life. Follow them off the cliff. Revel in their bizarre behavior and find out where your limits reside.

I was no huge fan of the beat generation, but Kerouac once said something beautiful and profound that has, unfortunately, become cliche despite its loveliness:

"...and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..."

Upvote, don't upvote. Just follow the people that move you in some serious and substantial way.