Kadin's Mind

My best attempt at presenting what goes on in the mind of a crazy person who believes he's completely normal

hello. i just met with a girl named Mary……..her other name is Jane…………

in any case, i’m feelin’ some type of way such that i figure writing is about to be hella fun right now.

i just got off work. i’m doin’ an internship in Los Angeles for the summer. it’s a pretty cool job. i like it. i call random landlords over the country all day. they’re an interesting bunch…some of them have the most southernest accents you ever heard: it’s hilarious. i think if i say any more than that, i risk getting fired. so i’m gonna shut up on that.

anyway, the real issue is that i need to stop being such a bitch and do a damn open mic already. i’m going to write some shit down about topics that i care about….vent my honest thoughts, no holds barred. type it as if no one will ever read it….

okay, i need to get on that. brb

judgment

man, fuck others for being so judgmental.

i shoudn’t say that, because i myself am extremely judgmental.

what does it even mean to be judgmental?

sometimes when i see someone doing something that i wouldn’t normally do, i give them this look that says, “what the fuck are you doing?”

then, if they’re vocal enough to say something, they might aggressively say, “the fuck are you looking at?” or, flat-out, “stop looking at me so judgmentally!”

i’ve definitely heard the latter before in my life…specifically addressed to me. i think it’s weird that people care about being judged.

but again, i won’t act like i don’t care about being judged. take haters, for example. the ideal attitude regarding them goes something like, “MAN, FUCK DA HATERS! I DON’T PAY ‘EM NO MIND! SHIT GOES IN ONE EAR AND OUT THE OTHER! I AIN’T NEVER LET A HATER FAZE ME!! I’M JUST GONNA KEEP DOIN’ ME, GIVE A FUCK ABOUT Y’ALL!”

now, i’m not going to try to challenge that by saying it’s wrong, but i WILL challenge it by saying that it’s hard to do! when haters hate, sometimes the shit they say seems like it’s hitting RIGHT on your deepest insecurities, your most vulnerable openings of self-doubt.

from a rational standpoint, i am a perfectionist. i believe in constant self-improvement.

haters: recognize that they’re out there, but don’t ever let them bring you down. yes, everything can stand to be improved—but would i rather improve it in someone else’s way, or in my own way? the latter!

so what, other people’s opinions aren’t valid? i mean, of course they are. but other people’s opinions are only valid to them. what opinions should i listen to? the ones that i believe are true. which opinions should i even CONSIDER listening to? the ones that aim to be CONstructive, not DEstructive. constructive criticism is the criticism that comes from a good place. it’s easiest to see what i’m talking about by looking at an example of the opposite: constructive criticism coming from a bad place is like Lindsday Lohan’s character in Mean Girls, when Cady (Kady? i don’t fucking remember these bullshit minor details) offers to help Regina George lose three pounds by giving her the weight-GAINING food bars…

*acting like you’re trying to help someone when in reality you are actually trying to hurt them.

who the hell actually does this?! manipulative, dishonest, deceitful, power-hungry, conniving cunts. “yeah, but what if a dude does it?” he’s still a cunt. anyone who does that kind of shit is a cunt.

i’ll be back later to explain the difference between a cunt, asshole, douchebag, and dick.

daddy issues

i got ‘em. no, they’re not only for girls/women. except mine aren’t from being sexually abused or raped or molested or anything like that. i definitely feel like a bitch-ass crybaby for even bringing it up, but it IS how i feel, whether or not it’s actually true.

i kinda feel like i got the “Oldest Son” treatment because…well, i’m the oldest son. that is, i was expected to be a man even from my childhood. okay, maybe not that extreme. but i do feel like nothing i ever did or do is good enough for my dad. like, he definitely SAYS he’s proud, but to me, it doesn’t really feel like he shows it. i mean, yeah, he’d reward me for doing well in school. he’d buy me things that i wanted and give me money for getting good grades. but that’s not really what i wanted. i probably wanted those things in the short-term, at the time, but looking back, i really just wish he would have let me have my freedom. in that same vein, i wish he would have given me his unconditional support. at this point, i realize i am crying over spilled milk. there is no point in doing that. the milk is spilled—that’s a reality, an inescapable fact of existence. so what can we do moving forward? we can grab some paper towels, soak up as much milk as we can, throw them away, grab a wet sponge with maybe a little soap in it, wipe down the surface where the milk spilled so that the table (or floor, wherever) doesn’t get sticky, dry it up to give it a nice squeaky-clean feeling, and laminate it—you know, iron on a thin layer of plastic film so that next time the milk spills, it won’t be a big deal.

LOL i’m just kidding about that last part. laminating the surface is a dumb idea. the BETTER idea is to make a conscious effort not to let the milk spill again. do your best to be extra cautious while in the vicinity of a glass of milk. *don’t let one bad portion of an overall experience let you take a permanently negative attitude toward everything related to that experience.

more like…accept the fact that milk spills sometimes. that’s just a fact of life. the best we can do is clean it up, move on, and be smarter about our cups of milk.

would you let one spilled milk ruin your drinking of milk? no.

would you let one spilled milk prevent you from pouring milk into open containers anymore? no.

would you let one spilled milk prevent you from putting your milk down where it MIGHT get knocked over? no.

BUT AT THE SAME TIME, realize that if spilled milk makes you cry, do your best to not let it spill! what, if spilled milk makes you cry, there’s something wrong with you, and you need to change? fuck that! that’s some Society bullshit.

i’ll end this post with a piece of advice that i need to heed myself: *you can’t control how things make you feel, but you can choose how you respond to things.

goodnight!

sup y’all

hey how’s it going. typing with a watch on my wrist is more difficult than typing with free wrists. the “watch tan” is real. tans are like hat hair and bedhead and hickeys and sweat in that you can tell what the person was doing before you saw them just by looking at them. right now, i’m forcing myself to write for a double digit amount of minutes, because i need to practice flowing. not rapping, not peeing, not doing some Buddhist shit like “being water.” i mean i need to practice spewing words ON-THE-SPOT. i think thinking on your toes is an incredibly important skill to have, and the only way to get better at anything is through practice.

in that vein, i need to do some stand-up. i’m in Los Angeles; i chose to do a summer internship down here to get my foot in the door of the entertainment industry. do you ever think you want to do something, but then RIGHT as you’re about to do it, you start to have second thoughts? that’s kinda how i feel right now. but i think that’s just the fear in my mind talking…that fucking bitch-ass cunt. i’m normally an extremely calculated individual, and tend to double-check WAYYYY too many times on everything. one example is leaving the house: did i get my wallet items, cards and money and gift cards and shit? (i don’t say “wallet,” because i don’t have one. i haven’t had one for years now….i dunno, i guess it’s because i believe in that old saying “don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”) now that i think about it, “don’t put all your eggs in one basket” also captures why i’m still in school—in case this comedy/entertainment shit fails, i’ll have something to fall back on.

it kinda makes me feel like a pussy-ass bitch though. like, midway through college, i was like “fuck this. i’m going to drop out and see if i can do what i think i want to do.” and real talk, if i had bigger balls, i would have done it. but i’m too much of a people-pleaser—actually, not really…i’m kind of a rude and obnoxious, loud, uncouth asshole. the truth is that i feel like i owe it to my dad. i’m not sure if it happened in college (like literally, in my dorm room/frat house room) or at an ayahuasca ceremony, but i feel like i owe it to my dad to pay him back for raising me so good. i’ve talked to him a lot about this stuff, actually. but basically the deal—the contract, if you will—is that after i finish college and get my degree, i’m done listening to him. not like i won’t talk to him anymore, or interact with him, or have good, deep, real conversations with him…but i won’t let him influence my major life decisions anymore. i mean, OF COURSE he can put his opinion in, and of course i will value it as if he’s my father (because he is), but at the end of the day, i will be free!

that’s all i got for now, because i’m tired and want to go get ready for bed…i’ve only gotten 12 hours of sleep the past few nights (FUCK OFF, I’M TIRED), and i want to get 8 tonight. that’ll put my average at slightly less than 7 hours a night for the week, which is still less than i’d get in an ideal world…

BUT the sad truth is that we don’t live in an ideal world! we only live in the real world! sorry Disney, and all you other fucking delusional perfection-demanding cunts! the world is cold—you can either cry about it, or you can do your best to stay warm—help others stay warm if you can.

goodnight, my little lovelies :)

seductively third-wheeling sexual art #camping #art #vandalism #norespect #sex #sexual #creepy #family #sculpture #leg #calf #muscle #longlegs

seductively third-wheeling sexual art #camping #art #vandalism #norespect #sex #sexual #creepy #family #sculpture #leg #calf #muscle #longlegs

#NationalSiblingsDay #tbt #throwbackthursday #Trace #trolls  #malavey #brothers #trollavey #trollaveybros #yes #theanswerisYES #theanswerisYAYUS #wink #bigmouths

#NationalSiblingsDay #tbt #throwbackthursday #Trace #trolls #malavey #brothers #trollavey #trollaveybros #yes #theanswerisYES #theanswerisYAYUS #wink #bigmouths

Me (Kadin Malavey) rapping “Rap God” by Eminem

runaway thoughts 2-5-2014

fuck dude, i’m in one of those “what matters in life?” moods.
*this is why people have priorities.

sometimes, i wish i was a “bad boy.” i wish i was a badass. i wish i had crazy, interesting life experiences. i wish i was cool and popular.
*as i’m typing these out, i can’t help but think of that old saying, “the grass is always greener on the other side.” i’m going to read about that quote extensively on the Internet now. first and foremost: I AM NOT THE ONLY PERSON TO WHOM THIS QUOTE APPLIES AND AFFECTS. *it is fundamentally human to believe that someone else’s circumstances are more desirable than one’s own.
kadin revision to the quote: “the grass always SEEMS greener on the other side of the fence, but in reality, the best thing anyone can do is worry about and work on cultivating his own grass the best that he can.” **this is related to the wisdom that happiness is not getting what you want; happiness is learning to love and appreciate what you have.

that being said, why do i act like i have the worst dad in the world? let’s be real: do i have the best father in the world? no. he could have expressed his love and support more effectively. but do i have a damn good dad? yes. he has sacrificed an incredible amount of personal satisfaction and has tirelessly worked his hands to the bone just to support an ungrateful family. NO MORE! I HAVE SHED ENOUGH TEARS IN THE NAME OF MY FATHER’S PAIN.
the deepest emotional pain a person can experience is when he selflessly provides for and shares with and gives to his children, only to have them not care and complain and demand more. that’s a concrete example of the abstract idea “the more a person invests his time, energy, and effort (i.e. himself) into something or someone else, the more he stands to lose, the harsher his disappointment, and the deeper his emotional pain when that something or someone does not respond as
expected or yearned for.”

so how can i give back to my dad? i can focus on school, devote a solid chunk of time to my studies on a consistent basis, and get good grades. i can be respectful and grateful when i talk to him. am i mad that he threatened not to pay for my education if i majored in theater? yes. do i understand it? yes. he doesn’t believe that i’ll be able to get a job with that degree. plus, since he’s paying for my education, i figure he’s allowed to have a say in my major. am i annoyed that he thinks i’ll completely fail as a professional entertainer? extremely, but as he said, i can use that fiery emotion as motivational fuel—he can be the first hater i ever prove wrong. does it piss me off that he can be incompetent and generally lacks attention to detail? yes, but those are his own personal problems: who am *i* to tell him that he needs to change?
**in that vein, i must ask myself: who am i to tell ANYONE that he or she needs to change? i believe that each person can be whoever he or she wants to be. and i do believe that if a person is content with whom he or she is, i have no right whatsoever to say that he or she needs to improve, nor in what ways.
***it goes back to the “the grass always seems greener on the other side” message, sort of: i really just need to worry about cultivating my own grass as best i can.

that being said, i love you Dad, and you’re an awesome father, despite anything i may say in the heat of the moment.

feminism

i’m definitely about that feminist life. you know, the one that says some shit like, “men and women should be treated equally, bruh.” i’m not blind or delusional; i know that men and women are fundamentally different from each other. but it’s been a constant inner battle trying to understand exactly in what balance we’re simultaneously similar and unique.

this is a brief reflection on where my current state of mind exists relating to this particular gender dichotomy which will continue to develop and progress as i go through life:

moral of the story: *both men and women have gender biases. **gender biases are more cultural than they are biological or physiological. that’s not to say men and women don’t have genetic, hormonal, sexual differences (because they obviously do), but the impact and influence of this particular set of differences is not as far-reaching or extensive or powerful as the cultural, societal biases. ***to gain insight into the foundations and roots of these cultural biases and mainstream/popular perceptions/conceptions, i need only to meditate on the ways in which i’ve seen men and women portrayed in the media and pay attention to the gender differences which seem to be promoted between the lines, under the surface.
waiting for community service orientation! boutta get our volunteering on! #Christmas #holidayspirit #volunteer #community #service #communityservice #badhairday #family

waiting for community service orientation! boutta get our volunteering on! #Christmas #holidayspirit #volunteer #community #service #communityservice #badhairday #family