Things with my business haven’t been going well. I’ve blown through all my savings trying to keep it afloat, and sales are simply non-existent, despite having the best prices and only selection in the entire country. If that’s not a sign there’s no market to be had, then I don’t know what is. Hell, I was never in it to make money, but I had at least hoped to break even and have the means to help more people in need. On top of that misery, I get disrespected by almost everyone in the industry, as if I’m some feckless vulture. If it weren’t for the encouragement and support I receive from Decomposed Skateboards, I’d have likely quit by now and burned every bridge in a pyroclastic explosion of spite and bitter vengeance.
Tag Archives: Struggle
Things have been pretty tough lately. I’m slipping further into debt, my business is struggling, and my writing has suffered for it. Sure, I haven’t missed an update in over 240 days, but I find myself less and less motivated to keep it up, and the quality reflects that at times.
For some reason, I thought being the only place in the entire country with a selection of freestyle skateboards would be profitable. Jokes on me, I guess. I have some of the best prices in the world, and I haven’t had a single sale so far.
Despite breaking my heel, I’ve managed to stay productive. Unfortunately, staying productive isn’t always profitable. I suppose I’m really in no different a position than I have been for the last several years, except I’m now physically broken as well. This would normally be the part where I attempt to direct folk to my patreon page, but I don’t really see the point. If people won’t support the charitable organization I run, I highly doubt anyone would want to help me personally. Hope everyone is having a substantially better week than I am. Bye for now.
– J.C. “Mongo” Lloyd
Pain at the forefront
Doubled over, then doubling again
Something in the flesh
Never fully mends
Scream in the stairwell
‘Til I can’t feel my legs
Shaking, sweating, gut wrenched ’til I cry
Darkness creeps at the edge of my eye
Am I being punished for bad decisions?
Broken thoughts and tunnel vision
I surface for a while
Try to keep myself abreast of the waves
Take in air, take on water
Slip beneath them once again
No sense of which way’s up
Chaos below, just as it is above
I’m lost, just flotsam in a raging sea
I’m a wreck
Vessel crushed upon the reefs
I stand before the mirror wall, always getting in the way
I’m an ever driving force, and an unmovable blockade
Trading blows with my reflection
Holding myself back
I am the shield, I am the weapon
I’m the knife in my back